The Fonz and I
oh HOLY HELL.
OH WOW. this got a head-tilt and an “oooooh… that could work” look.
We are going to Iowa this weekend. We shall drive 2 hours out of our way to eat this.
Crab Rangoon From Fong’s Pizza: Des Moines, Iowa
This place opened two years ago in what was once Des Moines’ oldest Chinese restaurant. The owners wanted to pay respect to their predecessors, so they came up with this pie, based on a classic Chinese-American appetizer. They riffed on the cream cheese-and-crab fried dumplings by spreading cream cheese on crust and topping it with imitation crabmeat, green onions, crunchy egg-roll strips, cheese and sweet chili sauce. $12 to $19; 223 Fourth St.; fongspizza.com
Yes, I would eat it. - A.P.
Someone caught a case of the freckles from L-Lo.
If you have gone to the beach with me, you are pretty much guaranteed to end up drinking ‘bag in a box’ wine. Sometimes with a little spritzer, ice, and a lemon garnish. Sometimes on it’s own.
While I never particularly cared what others thought of this, it is rather nice to be vindicated by the NYT’s.
“Despite the almost reflexive elevation of noses at the mention of boxed wines, one significant detail undermines these smug dismissals: the idea of putting wine in a box, or more accurately, in a bag within a box, is brilliant.”
A longer-than-expected article updating readers about what Heidi and Spencer Pratt are up to. I’m rather cynical by nature, so I expected to read this and roll my eyes to the point of a headache. However, it seems that they have actually started to “get it.” Their fame has - predictably - faded and now they are left relatively homeless and broke. Granted, their life of squalor equals a free stay at a Malibu beach home (owned by Spencer’s parents) and dinners comprised of tacos and burritos. Throw a margarita and bathing suit in there and you’ve just described my dream vacation.
To hear them admit many of their mistakes, though, as they float back to true reality is somewhat reassuring to me. Read Kate Aurthur’s piece and let me know what you think….
NOT a shock actually. And rather fitting considering he has a string of failed marriages and is a closeted gay man. He should automatically get the Republican nomination. — I’m Just Gonna Say It….
Kelsey, 56, who is described as a “longtime conservative Republican” made the shocking revelation during an interview…
Since I’m committed to only discussing ‘telly’ related topics on Tuesdays, I reluctantly post this NY Mag synopsis of last night’s RHONY Reunion (Part 2). These women are so irritating, I decided to move on to the Daily Show at 11pm (thus not seeing much of the last 30-minutes).
While this article goes into greater “depth,” I decided to include a few “highlights:”
- Countess LuAnn finds it hilarious that she’s bringing her new boyfriend Jaques (a Jew) to have dinner with her in Paris… along with her children and her ex-husband (an anti-semite). “Devinez qui vient diner??”
- Jill Zarin is “an effing bitch”… there, I said it (if you watched Part One, you get this). I’m so over the “Look, I’m not perfect / To Know Me Is To Love Me” spiel. Perhaps it is possible to know her and love her only because you actually don’t know her (she’ll never tell you the truth to your face). That made sense in my head.
- I discovered that one is a functioning alcoholic if they drink during the day and don’t do so while eating. Well, $hiiiiiiiit.
- I think Kelly should forever be forced to use a black kettle as a purse for how often she calls other people “wierd” and “unraveled.”
This quick synopsis is actually exhausting me. I need to save my energy for more important things… like the soup I’m having for lunch or what is playing on my Whitney Houston Pandora station.
To end the decade, a clip of Madonna at her brattiest (with the “Oh Father” hair that I love to this day).
Oh, 1984 - you were good. Sheena Easton was certainly a family-favorite (well, I exclude my Dad from this… he is happiest with Roy Orbison and The Moody Blues).
Again, I’m not honoring ground-breaking videos on MTV’s 30th. Instead, it’s about that music of my youth that I never tire of.
Wurk it, Sheena… in your linen and lame. Strut.