Everything is stupid. First of all trivia night at Bar Great Harry did me in. Now I'm going to be hyper-active-attention-deficit all day. It's a Food Network day. I feel like I accomplish so much when I watch other people cook. They all have such lovely kitchen supplies. Living in a Brooklyn apartment I don't have much room for lovely kitchen equipment. That's another thing I love about the FN: I can dream about all the stuff I would have in a kitchen if I had a real kitchen and not a converted closet. And the chef's are always saying, "See how easy this is to make?" It's not. Believe me I've tried. Most of the time it's because I don't have all the wonderful toys to play with but more than likely its because I don't have 12 sous chefs standing just off camera waiting to do the real work. If I had a sous chef AND a secretary my life would be a dream. And a lap pool in my apartment, and the aforementioned perfect kitchen, and buckets of money lying around waiting for me to spend it. That's all. So now we're reducing something on the stove, these foodies are always reducing something. They love reducing. OOOOOhhhh, beets. I love beets but they're not pretty. He just called beets a Celebration of Spring. Whatever. I celebrate Spring when my skin stops cracking open from the sub-zero temperature of Winter. Ace of Cakes. I love that show. I've been planning a cake for them to build since I first saw the show. I'm thinking of reproducing a gruesome crime scene. Now that's what I call a cake. And the look on every one's face when I unveil it, not to mention the episode they build my cake would be the best ever. What's next? Barefoot Contessa, her recipes are HARD...I don't care what she says. Now my computer is doing something stupid. I hate my computer and I want a new one but not for Christmas. I want pretty things for Christmas and not kitchen pretty things but pretty things to wear. What was I talking about? Barefoot Contessa and then Semi-Homemade. Love that show! She makes a cocktail for every occasion. Children's first birthday...cocktail! Home from open-heart surgery...cocktail! Yes, cocktails. And the couch. The couch looks like a good place to watch people cook. Ow, I think I just broke my finger. Oh no, it's alright.

Poles and Splints

Jesus H Christ! I haven't blogged in days because you can't type with your fingers in splints. No kidding, people are barbarians. I think the human race is getting crazier. We are definitely more angry animals than ever before.

My husband and I decided to check out a new bar not far from our place. I got there first, chose prime seats and made my self comfortable. Nice place, plenty of taps, friendly staff.

Now: the ceiling is low and in two places along the bar there are poles that extend from floor to ceiling...obviously holding the place up. My prime seat was right next to one of the poles and it was very cozy. The bar in front of me, the pole behind me. Soon I am joined by my darling husband and we settle in for an afternoon of drinking.

All of a sudden some drunk bastard staggers out of the back room, loses his footing and grabs for the pole. He's so drunk he must see two poles and not being sure which to grab he goes wide...smacking Scott in the back of the head. I mean he SMACKED him! I fell off my perch laughing and mid-fall I accidentally knocked some lady's (and I use that word loosely) beer out of her grasp. She's on top of me before I hit the floor. Now I'm fighting for my life, time stops. I have no idea what's happening with Scott, I can only worry about me. I attempt to poke her eyes out. I saw it on Oparh once, very effective.

Two guys who have nothing to do with anything decide they need to get involved. At first I thought, "Great how many people do I have to fight today?" Luckily their idea of getting involved was to peel the she-man off me.

Cops came, arrests were made. I broke two fingers on my left hand, three on my right. Scott has whiplash. We've been banned for life from that bar.

That's it! If it ain't broke don't fix it. No more new bars for us. Bar Great Harry: great beer, great people, no nut jobs, no poles.

Drinking in the Afternoon

I hate it when people say noon is too early for a drink. This country is so uptight and I blame the death of the three martini lunch. I'm not a martini person but I am a drinking person and I prefer to do it in the afternoon.

There is nothing better then a half empty, dark bar. Watching as the suckers slouch home from work. They look so beaten, so dead. Afternoon drinking gives you a chance to feel superior to these suited up lugheads who feel like life isn't worth it unless your boss loves you. Lets see who can climb the corporate ladder the fastest. Yea, lets but I'll need a drink to get started.

Drinking in the afternoon gives you a chance to get to know the bartender better. My two new favorite bartenders are Mike and Ben at Bar Great Harry. Don't start spending every afternoon there because you may accidentally sit in my seat and I'll be forced to accidentally dump you on the floor. Anyway, chatting up the bartender assures you will always get a fresh drink even it the place gets crowded. Like it did yesterday when a bunch of people who should have been at their desks came to drink. Lucky for them my seat was already occupied.

Drinking in the afternoon is the only way this country is going to get back on track to it's former glory. The rest of the world will love us more because we won't have time to invade other countries. Can't shoot a gun with a drink in your hand.

Hitler most definitely did not drink in the afternoon.