Saturday, May 31, 2008

Limousine Ride to See Sex and The City Today?

Don't mind if I do! With gas and movie tickets at rock bottom prices, it's crazy not to take advantage, right? It is probably worth mentioning that I look really cute today. Limousine review and movie review to follow. Do we really need a spoiler alert with these? Doubtful.

Friday, May 30, 2008

Green Monster University by Andy Wasif

Andy Wasif, author of How to Talk to a Yankee Fan has come up with another wicked delightful book on the Boston Red Sox and those who love 'em called Green Monster University--Creating Die-Hard Red Sox Fans Since 1901. The University's motto? Feridus Rabidus Fanaticus.

I'm in private practice as a Die Hahd Red Sox Fan without a degree from Green Monster University because I was "home schooled" by Mom and Dad as in: basically brought up in Fenway Park. For those who were not, and want to understand the beast which is essentially a Masshole, Wasif provides a comprehensive course load in Bosox Fandom at Green Monster U which includes Biology (Massholes+booze), Philsophy(Plato asked, "What is pain?" a Red Sox fan knows), Religion (Soxism), Literature (includes Stephen King--die hahd Sox fan), and Government (Red Sox Nation). There's also a section called Ask the Valedictorian (where students can learn from the best and brightest), a Glossary of Terms, and of course, a Practice Exam. This is school, afterall.

This book makes a great gift idea for the following:

  1. Red Sox fans.
  2. Red Sox fans with short attention spans who shy away from long book type products.
  3. Red Sox fans who spend a lot of time in the john.
  4. Friends of Red Sox Fans who wish to understand.

Green Monster University is a great school-in-a-book: informative, irreverent and funny, and Andy Wasif clearly isn't afraid to explore what makes a Red Sox fan a Red Sox Fan, wahts (warts) and all. Go Sox!!!

Scenes From a NYC Street Fair

May 24, 2008

Farewell, Harvey Korman

Harvey Korman dies at 81.

You SO Have a Crush on Me!

And you so know you want to see me mortify myself in Mortified on Monday.

If you're not so into me (as if) you can enjoy this fresh lineup of brave souls willing to vocalize their pathetic teen crap with you too!

Monday, June 2

8 pm

* * * Use discount code MORT to save $10! * * *

Act now--code expires Sunday!!!

(day of show tickets $20 + two item minimum in showroom)

Thursday, May 29, 2008

Saturday, May 24, 2008

St. Louis in 1940

St. Louis, May 1940. "Downtown street on Sunday morning."
35mm nitrate negative by John Vachon for the Farm Security Administration

Wednesday, May 28, 2008

775 Park Avenue: Where Rich People Live

Upper East Side at Park Avenue, NYC, May 2008

Rich people live in buildings where the doormen wear white gloves and hail taxis for them.

Rich kids on their way to school.

Did You Know?

It's not sherbert. It's sherbet. Not that I really care. Fuck sherbet, it's gross. But I'm a stickler for spelling. Some would call me annoying. That's fine. What have those who call me annoying done for me lately other than call me annoying? I'm sure I've done more for them. I'm sure of it. Give, give, give. All I do is give.

The Great Bobby Clarke.

Doodle Doesn't Apologize for Being Strange and Neither Do I

May 27, 2008

Tuesday, May 27, 2008

Sure, I'm Watching Iron Maiden "Live After Death" in Long Beach Arena 1985

But I'm also watching Cooking with Wade! My dear fellow New Englander Adam Wade is from New Hampshire, and you can hear it. Nobody adds "r"s where there aren't "r"s (and drops 'em when they are there) like Wade. In this episode, Adam teaches us how to make his Aunt Arety's iced coffee--featuring original vintage footage of his Aunt Arety and his Yaya--and doesn't skimp on the secrets to making it great. Enjoy! Make yourself an iced coffee and run to the hills!

Today is Tuesday Which is Monday Really

NYC ~ May, 2008
on the Uptown 4, 5, 6

Monday, May 26, 2008

A Fleeting Memorial Day Weekend

Today is Memorial Day. Time to honor the dearly departed. And barbeque stuff and get your white shoes and shit out for the season. I'd post for you the really terrible, super crappy poem I wrote about Memorial Day in sixth grade (which won some sort of something so I had to read it aloud to the class for some reason), but I can't find it right now. Today is also the last day of Fleet Week here in NYC. Below are some pictures I took from the conference room in my office of their ship crusing up the Hudson on Thursday afternoon. In the foreground is the hole formerly known as the WTC. Thankfully its out of the way now, or I wouldn't have gotten these great shots. Kidding. Too soon? You're terrible, Muriel. If you click on the middle image you can see the sailors standing along the perimeter of the carrier. I waved.

Thursday, May 22, 2008 ~Fleet Week ship arriving in NYC

World Financial Center and the Hudson River lookin' West towoids 'Joisey

Sunday, May 25, 2008

For Dink

pearl jam
"better man"

A Saturday in Manhattan

Memorial Day Weekend, NYC

Saturday, May 24, 2008

Friday, May 23, 2008

Isn't It the Thought That Counts?

Dearest Dad,

I was going to buy you this book by Edward Ruscha called Twentysix Gasoline Stations for Father's Day because I know you'd love it. But then I saw that it costs $1262.00 USD . Not that I don't think you're worth $1262.00 USD, but I'd have to borrow the $1262.00 USD from you in which to buy the book, and then you're sort of buying your own Father's Day present, and well, then you might be disappointed in what you bought yourself because of how expensive it was. Then you might think to yourself, couldn't she just give me a paper plate with spray painted gold macaroni glued onto it or Old Spice like last year? So...please know that my heart was in the right place.

Love always,


PS Macaroni plate or Old Spice? Your choice.

RIP, Girlfriend

I'm long overdue for posting about my recent cruise to the Caribbean. I will. First, I need to catch you up on some news since I arrived back on dry land. The day I came home and approached my apartment building with luggage in hand, I ran into my building's porter walking one of the tenant's dogs. When I waved hello, he said, "Anne, your cat is outside. It's been outside for five days."


I ran downstairs to the basement and out the backdoor to the courtyard which is encircled by adjacent apartment buildings, and there was a huge fat grey cat with one ear sitting near the garbage shed. I sighed with relief: not my cat. "King" has one ear and is SO friendly, he would have let me take him anywhere. Obviously an abandoned house cat to be so sociable. Then I noticed another kitty inside the garbage shed itself---a Doodle look-a-like--and that one, King's "girlfriend" (it turned out later that Girlfriend had balls), was what you'd call a loner, a classic stray cat who was not interested in being friends with me. But he was friends with King, and these two have been bopping around together like feline hobos for a few weeks, so I've been feeding them with the hopes of getting one or both of them off of the street and into a shelter.

I haven't seen King in over a week, but when I'd go to refill the food and water bowls late at night, I'd see Girlfriend sitting on a high wall, checking me out in the dark. I saw him the night before last. This morning, the doorman broke the news to me that a cat was found dead on the sidewalk in front of my building. He was hit by a car sometime before dawn. "What cat? Striped or grey?"

"I don't know," said Khalid. "He's in a double garbage bag in the courtyard right now."

I ran downstairs and opened the first bag. Then the second. I peered inside.

It was Girlfriend.

RIP, Girlfriend.

PS Please click here to feed an animal in need (it's free) in Girlfriend's memory.

Thursday, May 22, 2008

It's Simply the Truth

Drinking a margarita in a flashing blinky light-up glass makes the whole experience blinkier. Clearly. How do I know? Well, obviously it's true, or would go out of business. Duh.

David Cook Wins American Idol 2008: Two Can Anne's Finale Wrap Up

I missed the first hour of the American Idol finale last night, but I did manage to see the majority of the second. Below are my acute, insightful observations which I carefully penned on Post-It notes and have transcribed for you here.

  • Jordan Sparks was underwhelming at best. And, well, the gold paper flared-skirt dress was probably not the best choice for the husky daughter of a former NFL cornerback.
  • Carrie Underwood sang a song about being a drunken slut who cheats on her husband called "Last Name" as in, "I was dancing at a club drunk with a drunk dude whose last name I don't know who drunk-drove us back to his place, and luckily I lived to sing about it with the only deleterious effect being a massive hangover and possibly life-ending VD and / or pregnancy and wait, I don't even know my last name." Great message for the kids. Her frock was a form of white tuxedo mini-dress which she wore with a sort of sheer chiffon wrappy white thing which was attached at the wrists and hung behind her like an errant piece of chewed up toilet paper. (update: the Go Fug Yourself Girls also think her dress looked like t.p. which means, I have my finger on the pulse, yo. The toilet paper pulse.)
  • Then there was an ad for a new FOX series starring a hot blonde and non-descript dude running around encountering terrible bio disasters happening in the world created by mischievous terrorists including some sort of burned up and destroyed airplane, its passengers exploded inside, rendering the windows splattered with blood product. Tune in!
  • Next, the Idol Top 10 strutted their Brady Bunch song and dance shiz to some classic George Michael, trying to prove one last time in front of the Idol audience that perhaps that they shouldn't have been voted off in the first place. Bonk!
  • Surprise guest George Michael "graced" the stage with a horrendous, never-ending song which never got off the ground, made me squirm in my seat, and made me embarrassed, ashamed, for him, me, my generation, his generation, his mother, my mother, her generation, the people of the world, and baby animals. Old! Scary! Hard living? Too much getting trashed? Too much picking trash? Something worse? Man. The kids in the front row were no doubt thinking to themselves, this fragile, creepy geezer in sunglasses and Botox is the same dude who sang the zippy songs we just heard (Faith, Father Figure)? OMG! TMTH! Ewww! Afterwards, Ryan Seacrest came out onstage with, "George Michael everybody! First tour in 17 years!" No shit! Are we sure it's not 70 years? Of course, Paula was standing, clapping like a seal, and sobbing her face off during the "moving" lyrics of his non-descript shitshow song. Clearly she was hammered. Trashed. Then George Michael made it even more awkward for himself by apologizing for his cold. Ouch. Ouch! OUCHERS!
  • Finally, the finale---the judges gave a few final remarks about the exciting ride that was Season 7. Randy said something about dawgs, Paula said something stupid, and Simon apologized for being hard on David Cook the night prior and possibly swinging the vote out (or in?) his favor. And there the two Davids stood, with the giant egg-headed David Cook with his arm around the tiny David Archuleta, as Ryan Seacrest read the results. I was rooting for David Cook (though I didn't vote. Unpatriotic? Perhaps but in a free country you don't have to pay to vote via 866 numbers), and I thought David Archuleta had it sewn up. So did David Cook apparently, because when he won, he started bawling with his giant egg head in his hands, all "I need a minute to compose myself" style which annoyed me to no end, of course, as it would. Boys wearing eyeliner aren't allowed to cry. All I could do was shout, STOP CRYING! STOP CRYING! STOP CRYING!
  • The emotional rollercoaster peaked with the crowd on its feet for the rainbow and unicorn rousing "Time of My Life," --David Cook's first recorded single as American Idol 2008 Winner-- which he sang effortlessly once he stopped crying.
  • The crowd remained on their feet and sobbing with joy as David Cook worked the stage with great eyeliner-eye contact to his mother and family and an ear-t0-ear smile, beaming with victory and pride, sitting on top of the world as the confetti was released from the heavens. At that moment, a large part of me wanted a huge rock to drop on him.
  • David Cook's brother, who is unfortunately, tragically terminally ill with cancer, cried and clapped and looked into the camera with a heartfelt and teary "That's my brother!" as David finished his song right before the credits rolled, and I thought to myself, wouldn't it be a serious emotion topper if at this very moment, a huge rock dropped on him too?
  • Then FOX 5 News immediately announced that they were giving me an All Access Pass to Everything Idol, and had some broad on the red carpet promising the first interview with David Cook as he came outside. But then there was real news to report, such as a crazy looking drug addict purse snatcher who is grabbing ladies' purses on the subway, so the All Access Pass, featuring live footage of dumpy civilian twats with American Idol tickets (but no life) who crowded behind the velvet ropes went to Idol Cam--a small square in the bottom left hand side of the television. But it and the American Idol Crawl (on the bottom of the screen) really did block the details about what was happening with the wild-eyed purse snatcher, so...I expect my shit to be ripped off any day now in a violent struggle which may end with my face cut from ear to ear.
  • And this, folks, was your Two Can Anne American Idol Wrap Up. Now you may watch your tiVo to check my accuracy.

PS Don't feel sorry for David Cook for being born with an enormous egghead. It's not his fault. And, he's going to be a mazllionaire which will afford him the zillion brooms he'll need to buy in which to beat off all of the vageeny which will be thrown at him now that he's the next President of the United States. All Hail the Chief.

Wednesday, May 21, 2008

Raise Your Hand if You're a Liar

AP Photo

"Big Oil execs testified before the Senate Tuesday, saying high oil prices were largely out of their control and more drilling in the U.S. is needed..."

By Steve Hargreaves,

A 2008 Doodle Cat Calendar Will Solve All Your Problems

Buy your 2008 Doodle Cat Calendar here! No, it's not too late--consider it animal welfare--you're contributing to this furry freak's breakfast and dinner. Not to mention my carpet cleaning products which I use every time she pukes. Which is every day. Yay!

Empire State was Blue and Orange for the Yanks/Mets Subway Series

West 23rd Street, NYC,
May 17, 2008
And the Mets spanked the Yanks. Hard. Or as they say here in NYC, hawd.


Mortified NYC: June 2 at Comix

Come celebrate teen angst from a safe and comfortable distance! Buy tickets now to ensure yourself a seat--and more importantly, a discount. I know moths fly out of your wallet too.
Monday, June 2
8 pm

Tuesday, May 20, 2008

Tom and Jerry Bar

288 Elizabeth Street, Monday, May 19, 8:10 pm

288 Elizabeth Street, Monday, May 19, 8:40 pm

Jerry Thomas--celebrity mixologist and bartender from the late 1800's--is credited for creating the Tom and Jerry cocktail. The Tom and Jerry is a rum-based milk and egg white beverage often associated with wintry nights, punch bowls, and cat and mouse teams. The Tom and Jerry Bar (288 Elizabeth) has a large collection of Tom and Jerry bowls and cups on the shelves of their large space, a collection which is complimented by original artwork on the walls and hard spirits behind the bar. Sure, the smell of stale beer abounds! Just get over it.

Tom and Jerry Bar, 288 Elizabeth Street, NYC

Thursday, May 15, 2008

The Mets Lost But I Won

The New York Mets lost to the Washington Nationals last night at Shea, 5-3. Here is some hard-hitting sports reporting by yours truly to help you feel like you were there for the boys of summer action:

Unbelievably not crappy $23 dollar seats at Shea with the emerging Citi Field in the horizon.

We didn't give the cotton candy man much business.

Beer man? Lots of business. Nice Shea Stadium RIP aluminum bottle for Bud Light.

This chick to my left (yes, she was a chick) smelled like an ashtray. Not a new ashtray filled to the brim with 65 cigarette butts, but more like an older ashtray, one the size and smell of a car or hotel room --with no windows -- that was smoked in for 65 years. Or a sofa. A smoky old plaid sofa in a someone's--perhaps a distant relative's-- living room with wood paneling I must have had the misfortune of visiting somewhere, sometime in my youth. Everytime Smoky Old Plaid Sofa moved in her seat, a whiff of stale smoke came off of her in a thick cloud, something like Pigpen.

Here's Smoky Old Plaid Sofa's Girlfriend with the denim hoodie. They were sitting on the end, super into the game and so ornery when anyone wanted to get out of the row that we resorted to climbing either down or up over the seats. I had a skirt, boots, and a buzz on, and yet, climbing over the seats was just easier all around.

Here's the reaction of the dude behind me as Aaron Heilman gave up the Vargas lead in the 7th. Multiply this reaction times all of Shea and that's what it sounded like. This dude told me that he loves to yell at the top of his lungs when he's at the games because when he's watching at home his wife doesn't care for it too much. Needless to say, not long after this, the Mets lost. But I won. How is that? Well, I had a dollar bet with this very dude that Carlos Beltran had his enormous chocolate chip-sized mole removed sometime in 2007. His buddy was able to prove me right by a call home to his own wife and a little thing called Tivo where she was able to rewind to Beltran's last at bat. Mole? Missing. Anne? Victorious.

Here's a shot of my friend Julia cheering my victory.

On our way to the subway and another shot of the Jackie Robinson Rotunda in the future home of the '09 Mets. Sure, the Mets lost, but as a Red Sox fan, I couldn't care less--just a fan of baseball. And if I don't get back to Shea before it's razed for a parking lot, at least I'll have fond memories---of my enjoyable evening and $1 win from a razed chocolate chip-sized mole.

Wednesday, May 14, 2008


Jessie McNamee ~ Utica April 1890
Taken at the Lunatic Asylum in Utica
April, 1890.

Read about the New York State Lunatic Asylum in Utica and see pictures here.


greensboro, vermont
august 2007