My Dunkin Donuts Problem

Listen, I hate to admit my love for Dunkies just as much as every other pretentious Masshole.

But here is the truth: not only do I love my medium iced coffee with a little cream, tweekle*, and a strawberry frosted donut**, I only LOVE it when it comes from this one Dunkies in Southie. This is not a phenomena I can explain, it's just that no where else does that combination taste as good.

Yep.

There are more than TEN (10) Dunkies within striking distance from my house*** and yet I will travel in my car to go to this one Dunkies in South Boston just for that particular chemical fix.

I AM a Masshole. Harbor water in my veins, a pot of beans for a brain.

Long live the Dunkin.



* Tweekle: means "two Equal" in my language
** Strawberry frosted donuts are alleged to be "seasonal"
*** Striking distance = a mile or less

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Let me explain something here.

This week everyone kept asking: "So any fun plans this weekend?"

And my response was: "No"

And what people mostly presumed was that while I did have plans, they weren't fun.

I should have explained that I have no plans of any kind. I was invited to go "down Cape", to go camping, sailing, zombie marching, picnicking, canoing, and while I will admit that I would have probably have said yes to oakie-noodling, I just did not want to have to do anything this whole weekend.

Period.

The luxury of my life is that I am only answerable to myself. I don't have to check in with anyone if I want to do something or go somewhere, I don't have to feed a kid or a pet, I don't feel bad if I drink the last beer or eat the last piece of toast - all things I don't mind having to do if I were in a situation that required it. But since I am not, I like to enjoy not having to.

Like right now, I am catching up on my blog and my emails and listening to Alice Cooper Nights on WZLX (the last few tunes included Dokken, Van Halen, Yardbirds...)

I got up when I woke up this morning, went to the gym, cleaned the house a little, had lunch with my sister, went shoe shopping, popped over to see the folksters, half cleaned the bathroom, purged out a desk drawer, talked to a friend for a little while, had a nap....

And you know what? I might do more of the same tomorrow. But then again I might not! Depends on how I feel.

Ah sweet nothing, I love it.

Audrey and Gretel at the Alchemist

Thursday night I went to see Audrey Ryan at the Alchemist in Jamaica Plain. She was playing a double-header with Gretel.

As some of you may know I went to see Ms. Ryan at the Dolphin Striker in Portsmouth back in February. The bar was packed, the crowd was nettlesome, and still she was enchanting.

After the show I bought her CD, exchanged a few pleasantries, and that was that. However since then her album Dishes & Pills has been an integral part of my playlist.

So I was excited to see her again at the Alchemist. The best thing about her music is that she sounds so utterly like no one else I've ever heard. Granted I don't know diddley-doo-doo about the technical nuances of music, I do know that music (to me) is either sounds I like, or sounds I do not.

What I heard Thursday were sounds that thrummed joyfully across my cerebral cortex.

Ms. Ryan's set was short and unfortunately played against the backdrop of the Celtics game - which meant there were bursts of applause at odd moments. Short though it may have been, sweet it definitely was.

After her set was Gretel, who I'd never heard before. Gretel seems to be a four person band, but for some reason they had five people this time. They were great too. And even better was that even though there was less than 50 people in the place, they rocked like they were playing to 500. In a good, full, way - not in the ear piercing annoying way.

I got home I checked Gretel out online and I have to say I think preferred them live. But I am not sure about that yet.

If you get a chance to see either, I highly recommend you do so. The best part was that the show was free. We ate there and the food was excellent, but there was no cover or anything which is great.

Quite possibly one of the best things in life is good live music for free!

PS: The food and the staff were really really nice at the Alchemist. Although that place will always be Triple D's to me, where the brother of a friend got so drunk he crapped in a planter outside thinking he was in the bathroom. Now THAT is drunk.

L.o.n.g.e.s.t. W.e.e.k. E.v.a.r

For some reason the week before a long weekend seems to drag its butt around the carpet like a constipated dog.

How is it possible that today is Thursday?

I feel like Thursday was two days ago (Tuesday, for those of you not stumbling along the space-time continuum) and really I should not have had to have been at work today. Or wait, and not yesterday either, I think....

Gargh! You see how this happens!

This also means that it is quite possible that I will wake up tomorrow and it will really be Monday afternoon and I will be wondering where the weekend went.

Because you know, that happens to me A LOT.
But usually on Sundays.

I predict

That Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull is going to rake in a milliongazillionbillion dollars this Memorial Day weekend.

\

I further predict that I will be one of those lemmings.

Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, but, you know.

I, for one, cannot wait until the BPD tries out "The Rumblah" on my car.

"The targeted drivers will hear, in addition to the conventional siren, a deep, guttural sound, then feel a vibration beneath their feet."

Yep, I am ready.

Although I am not so sure that the Shampagne Supernova would survive being "rumbled". She would probably fly apart into a hundred pieces.

Sometimes it's so pretty out.

It was a lovely late afternoon today.
In case you missed it.

:)

Holy Crap! What the #&^%@ IS That?

The other night there was a kerfuffle in the street.

The kind that starts with the words "B*tch!", goes on to include the words "Muthaf*cka", "Ho", "No you di-int!", and typically ends with "I'm gonna f*ck you up!" or "Oh yeah? Why don't you come here and say that sh*t to my face b*tch!"

Nothing too thrilling - no bats or knives, but there is something grotesquely intriguing about two women fighting.

It's just that two men fisticuffing is guttural and unimaginative. Two women screaming at each other is far more engaging - the verbal sewerage that comes spilling out is highly entertaining. If I knew I wouldn't die doing it, I would totally go out there with a tape recorder. When I am mad, I sputter and every great comeback line comes to me about 3 days after the fact. A handier, pre-recorded, back-pocket retort would be awesome.

So wait, where was I going with this post....

Oh yeah. So there was this kerfuffle the other night. I listened out the window for a bit and then it sounded like they were exchanging a few slaps, there was a ripping noise, then some other women stepped in and the whole thing was over.

However when I was walking down the street this afternoon I saw this:

Of course I was like, what the f*ck IS that? A dead bird?

And of course I had to take a closer look:

Ha hahhhahaha! It was the hair! From the b*tchslap fest the other night.

THAT explains the ripping sounds! Good lord, another thing to remember about high-falutin' city living: never, ever, wear fake hair when you plan on tackling your ex-man's new b*tch!

Great Gift Idea for a Grandparent

I am 100% Grandpa is NOT going to love me more for sharing this information with you, but he recently had a case of shingles.

Which is why he is growing a beard that makes him look much younger than 92.

I mention this because he was first diagnosed with having impetigo.

Which I thought was hilarious because it was right at the same time that Amy Winehouse was running around old London town with a dose of the impetigo herself. Never would I have ever put Gramps and Amy together in the same sentence.

But what really goes to show you that doctors aren't really expecting to see shingles in 92 year olds.

However the CDC expects that anyone over 85 who has had the chicken pox has a 50% chance of getting shingles. There is now a vaccine for it and while it doesn't work 100% for everyone, it is better than not taking it. Read more about it here.

Grandpa is lucky because he was treated pretty fast once it was diagnosed as shingles. Hopefully the painful effects won't last.

And if I had known that back in December, I could have gotten him the vaccine for Christmas!