Concupiscent Curds

Movie gravy

Why is it that seemingly everyone waits until Valentine's Day--that most wretched faux-holiday of the year--to write articles about a sex and food duo?  Don't you like to eat and do-the-unstuck at times other than Valentine's? 

Commiserate no longer, dear reader(s), here is a great list of the top ten movie scenes (including YouTube clips) that involve food and sex by HoustonPress.com!

It's more fun if you don't look until you've scrolled down the page to number ten first.  No, it's probably not suitable for work.  Unless you work in a strip club.  But if you do, why the hell are you reading this?  Dance, baby, dance!

No soup for you

If you use the word foodie in comments or by emailing me, you are banned. 
NO CURDS FOR YOU!  Come back one year!

"Mexican Summer on a Stick"

From The Minimalist on The New York Times online:  "You can freeze fruit juice and call it sorbet. You can add a bit of milk or cream to make it richer and smoother, and call it sherbet.

Or you can freeze either form on a stick and call it a paleta. The term, Spanish for “little stick,” describes any sweet ice pop."

[A lactose-free one-time registration is required for the New York Times online.]

Photo Credit:  Evan Sung for The New York Times

Food porn

Some are complaining, "I thought this blog was about sex and food."  Well, dear reader(s), you are right.  Thus, here's a nice article on the erotic power of food. 

No, I didn't write it.  Hey, if you must steal, steal from the rich!

Also check out foodporn.com.  (Scrumptuous food pics and no real porn.  Damned parental controls!)

And when I get a shoeshine...

"I want to tell you how proud I am to be the President of a nation that --
in which there's a lot of Philippine-Americans...And I reminded the [Filipino] President that I am reminded of the great talent of the -- of our Philippine-Americans when I eat dinner at the White House."
--George W. Bush, referring to White House chef Cristeta Comerford while meeting with Filipino President Gloria Macapagal Arroyo, Washington, D.C., June 24, 2008

Don't sugar-coat it

Nearly 24 million Americans had diabetes in 2007 — an increase of more than 3 million in 2 years — according to the CDC.

The data, released in the CDC's National Diabetes Fact Sheet, show that:

• Diabetes is diagnosed in 18 million people and undiagnosed in 6 million!

• Diabetes now occurs in about 11% of people aged 20 or older and 23% aged 60 or older!

• The direct medical costs of diabetes in 2007 were $116 billion!

I can hear my patients now: “Doc, does this mean I should stop my two-dozen Krispy Kreme coffee-breaks?”

Cooks & crooks

More to prove that Louisiana life—both in and out of New Orleans—is chock-full of cooks and crooks. (Remember former Congressman Billy Tauzin's quote, “Half of Louisiana is under water and the other half is under indictment”?) The car below? That's Ann Duplessis's car.

Ann Duplessis is the fat-ass-selfish-witch-Starr-Jones-look-alike-when-she-was-bigger-than-Shamu-the-
killer-whale Lousiana State Senator from the so-called impoverished Lower Ninth Ward. She's also the author of the bill—which Governor Jindal has said he'll not veto and will allow to become law but promises he'll get 'em next time, by golly—which will more than double her pay and all of the other members of the Legislature's pay.  Oh, and by the way, they gave themselves a per-diem as well as a $6,000 annual fund for “unvouchered expenses.” Which means they get a daily stipend for meals and gasoline in excess of $100 and an additional $6K annually to spend in any way they want, in effect, tripling their salary!

Do you get a per diem at your job?  Didn't think so.  This somewhat reminds me of those FEMA rims you see all around since Katrina (link NSFW).  Too bad the photographer didn't get a shot of Duplessis's dubs!

Oh, but don't fret Fair Citizen of Metropolis!  The Legislature also took time out of their busy part-time schedules to push creationist nonsense on your kids as if it's science.  Again.  (Didn't Louisiana taxpayers already shell out a few million for their state to take this matter to the U.S. Supreme Court years ago?  And lose?  Answers?  Yes and yes!)  And the legislature made it a law, in certain cases, to castrate sex offenders.  This brilliant new law may give many Louisianans a false sense of safety from many dookie-slug sex offenders because castration doesn't work.

The legislators also worked super-hard for you guys in debating and ultimately passing a bill to make the Sazerac the Official Drink of New Orleans.  Yaah!  Nothing like your government promoting an alcoholic beverage!  Now, I'm no teetotaller, but maybe our state can now move up from the top eight in percentage of auto accidents with a fatality that involved alcohol to be Number 1!  [Source: MADD]

We're number 1!!!  We're number 1!!!  You're number 2!  You smell like poo!

Sheesh.  What a bunch of freaking Einsteins we have running our government.

Besides, have you had a Sazerac?  It is just plain awful.

(photo from the Louisiana Action Council)

The McDiet

A Virginia man claims he lost 80 pounds by eating only meals from McDonald's. 

Jared, move over; there's a new sheriff in town and his name is The Hamburgler!

(That's Jared in the photo.  Pre-Subway.  Just in case you just came out from your cave or something.)

You see, C-, my Guinness-n-Fritos Diet is a good idea! 

Duh!  Told you!

More doctors smoke Camels...

I have never been a trend-setter.  Instead, I like to ride things out and see how they hold the test of time.  Therefore, it's not surprising that I just watched Al Gore's 2006 documentary "An Inconvenient Truth."

Brighter people than me have commented on this film from the left and the right.  However, this movie isn't about politics.  It is about science.  And the science tells us that global warming is real and humans are making it immensely worse.  Those who pooh-pooh the science today are like the physicians who mugged for cigarette ads after the Surgeon General's 1964 report on the dangers of smoking:  either sell-outs or idiots.

In the words of critic Rober Ebert:  "...This is not a boring film. The director, Davis Guggenheim, uses words, images and Gore's concise litany of facts to build a film that is fascinating and relentless. In 39 years, I have never written these words in a movie review, but here they are: You owe it to yourself to see this film. If you do not, and you have grandchildren, you should explain to them why you decided not to."

Generations to come will surely call us barbarians just as we considered cannibals or slave-owners barbarians because of the damage that we are causing to our home; but worse, because we know what we are doing.

Obama, race, and affirmative action

An excerpt from Saturday's Wall Street Journal: 

"Does America still need affirmative action, given that an African-American has made it to the top of American  politics?...Such changes make some whites here wonder why affirmative action is needed at all. 'If blacks are living in the same houses that I am living in, and they can afford the same things I can afford, why shouldn't I  have the same breaks as they do?' says Tony Licata, a  professional photographer in Macomb County who is  white and says he is leaning toward voting for Sen. McCain."

Yet Barack Hussein Obama promises to adhere to the outdated tenets of affirmative action.  For example, according to affirmative action, The University of Mississippi (where I obtained my medical degree) should continue to admit a certain percentage of African-Americans into medical school simply because they are black and, therefore, disregard many applicants--who may be more qualified--simply because they are not black. 

But don't trust me.  Follow the news and see for yourself.

Tim Russert, R.I.P.

As I'm sure you've heard by now, Tim Russert died Friday of an apparent M.I. at the age of 58.

From his second book, Wisdom of Our Fathers, which was born out of some 60,000 letters and emails Russert received on his first book about his hard-working, blue-collar, and great dad, Big Russ and Me, the following excerpt involves Tim dropping his son off for his first semester at college: 

"Before I drove off, I gave him some simple advice:  'Study hard.  Laugh often.  Keep your honor.'  I hope I've taught him to make good decisions and that I've given him a strong moral foundation to do the right thing.  When my life is over, I know that the most important thing I'll be judged on is what kind of father I was."

From all indications of what's been said of you far and wide, you were a great father, Tim Russert.  And you've motivated me even more than I was already motivated--and that's saying a lot--to be a better father.

Tim Russert, rest in peace. 

You done good, my man.  You done good.

Some of the funniest shit I've read in a long time

"Crap Craft" from Dad Gone Mad.

The redneck treatment

Just as it was okay for Ronald Reagan to make Irish jokes (because he was Irish) and for the Sklar Brothers to make Jewish jokes (because they are Jewish), I can make hick jokes because I grew up in Hickstown, U.S.A. and, well, I'm still a hick at heart.

True, what follows is more like a hick bashing than a joke.  But again, I'm bashing my own kind.

Will someone please tell me why the hell no other group finds it necessary to tell me what their "doc back home" gives them?  But hicks?  They always do!

Drug seekers?  In my practice, most are Caucasian.  It's clear what they want.  Of course, they'll usually pretend to not know what they want.  Sorry.  Go somewhere else, stoner.

A patient wanting extended time off for a fucking sniffle?  Highly likely to be an African-American female.  Sorry, Queen Latifah.  No dice.

Disability seekers?  I'd have to say it's split fifty-fifty.  Male-female.  Black and white.  But don't expect me to fill out your form, you lazy-ass.

But telling me specifically how they want to be treated?  100% are rednecks. 

It usually goes something like this:

Hick:  Ya see, mah doc back home, he always gimmes a shaa-it and dat der shaa-it, it cleers 'em sinuses raht up, it does.

Curds Writer:   Okay, sir.  Sure, an injection is an option.  That is, if you have a bacterial infection to begin with.  Now, let me examine you and if you need antibiotics, I'll tell you about a less expensive, oral medication that will work better than just one injection.

Hick:  Huh?  A pee-eel?  Well, ya know, Ah ain't no doctor [they all say this one] [you can say that again, Bubba] but Ah def'nately need some ahn-TIE-biotics!  An' Ah know dat dat der shaa-it does it fer me e-vee-ry time.  'Sides, Ahm not too good wif keepin' up wif my med'cines. So dat shaa-it?  It's easy fer me.

CW:  Uhm, I see.  Okay, sir, what sort of hog-piss injection did your idiot-fucking-doctor in Dumbfucksville give you then, you fucking Neanderthal?*

Hick:  Ah don't know.  It was in one of dem der looooonng needles.  His nurse stuck it in mah backside and it stunngggg so bad--shooiiiiee!--stung so bad dat it made mah buttho' pucker up, it did.

CW: [thinking]  I fucking hate you.  I fucking hate you.  I fucking hate you. [speaking again]  I'll be right back, sir. *leaves room*   Nurse Boob-a-rific?  Give the gentleman in Room 2 ceftriaxone, two-grams I.M.  And use water, not lidocaine.  Dig out a dirty needle if you can.  Oh, and run the needle over the toilet after you sharpen it on the sidewalk outside.  Here's a prescription for him for the most expensive fucking antibiotic in the universe.  Tell him to get this filled when he realizes the shot didn't do jack for him, 'kay? 

You sexy thing, you.

*Stunt doctor.  Do not attempt.  Do not pass go.  Do not collect $200.  No rednecks were harmed and no nurses were harassed in the making of this story.

The Cure

No, not this one.  (Yes, I have been a big fan.  Yes, I know.  So was every 14 year-old girl in the 80's and early 90's.)

This one.  From Seth's Blog:

That's what everyone wants.

Not a process or an approach. Not a treatment or an attempt. Not a best effort or a thoughtful response.

They want their problems cured.

Doctors, of course, can rarely provide a cure. Neither can accountants or marketing consultants. But that's what gets sold, cause that's what people want to buy.

We fool ourselves constantly. We know, deep down (or not even so deep) that there's no real cure out there, but that's what we pay for anyway.

They want their problems cured.

Doctors, of course, can rarely provide a cure. Neither can accountants or marketing consultants. But that's what gets sold, cause that's what people want to buy.

We fool ourselves constantly. We know, deep down (or not even so deep) that there's no real cure out there, but that's what we pay for anyway.

Trivial hirsute

Here's more trivia from my professional life.  It's a list of keywords and phrases that somehow--I certainly didn't come up with these myself whaddaya think I'm nuts?--linked patients to my clinic's website:

• women's hair removal
• shingles pain near brain stem
• pain in my buttox down too my calf
• air embolism
• images of a discharge from a std
• methadone clinics in new orleans area
• involuntary residential mental health facilities
• conditions treated by narcotics
• std bank

Nevermind that a half-wit spider monkey could shell out Z-packs all day like I do, we physicians like to think of ourselves as scientists.  After all, science is what pushed me into studying medicine in the first place [Memo to self:  Kick Science's ass next time he comes by]. 

So, fear not, dear reader(s)!  WHA-POW!!!  Watch as I will scientize you with my scien-terrificness!  I'll take them in order:

Women's hair removal?  Hmmm.  Could it be that the lady suffers from a bit of hirsuteness?...Please allow me to use the online bastion of educated good taste the world over, the Urban Dictionary.  Says here, hirsute = hairy mofo!

Shazam! I'm guessing the lady needs a Brazilian wax.  I've got two words for you, honey:  Come on down!  Uh, that is, if you're hot.  Not if you're the lady in that pic above.  In that case, you should see your gynecologist.

Next comes the dreaded "shingles pain near the brain stem."  This condition is always sure to get you to the doctor quickly.  Well, unless you can just look up a cure online.  I'm not sure a non-doc would know that what one really has is shingles and especially I'm not sure how'd one know that the shingles are encroaching upon one's brain stem and I'm not sure one'd necessarily even feel it near one's brain stem if it were there; and even if the shingles were causing pain near one's brainstem, I'm not sure one would live to ponder why it's there nor what to do about it.

But mine is not to reason why. 

I surmise that the knucklehead with the shingles pain near the brain stem probably has a fucking sunburn on his neck.  Diagnosis?  You're an idiot.  Now, get some Noxzema.  And a Heiny keg.  Rub on Noxzema.  NO, on your neck, retard.  Drink glass of beer.  Repeat until consciousness slips from you like a Mama-cat's teat slips from the runt of the litter.

"Pain in my buttox down too my calf" is just too fucking moronic for even me to blind you with science.  Next!

Okay, here's a good one.  "Air embolism."  Unfortunately, the poor soul with the air embolism--I'm fairly certain--didn't live long enough to even get to the link.  Except that I'm as sure that it wasn't an air embolism as sure as I know my name is Mud, er, Slim Shady, er, uh, Curds Writer!  *shouting into megaphone*  Hey, Einstein, we have you surrounded.  That air embolism?!  That's really called You need to fart!  Now put down the freakin' red beans, put your hands over your butt cheeks and back away slowly.  Yes, with that bottle of Beano!  No, no!  For chrissakes, don't point your ass this way!

"Images of a discharge from a STD."  Never mind that this patient suffers from another case of poor grammar.  It is a very nice name for a skacore band.  Or an Al Gore documentary.

Next up: "methadone clinics in new orleans area." How the heroin addict spelled everything correctly here is amazing to me.  Now, just how my website popped up when he typed in this gem is anybody's guess.  Except I know why and I'm not saying why because I know what's good for me.  And you'll keep quiet too if you know what's good for you.  Capeesh?

"Involuntary residential mental health facilities?"  Isn't that really called jail? (See paragraph above.)

What's a condition treated by narcotics?  Jonesing from narcotic abuse! (See paragraph above the paragraph above.)

Finally, I'm really not sure what an std bank is but I'm certain I wouldn't want to make any deposits there. 

Dear reader(s), if you or anyone you love suffers from any of these conditions, please don't hesitate.  Get to the phone now and make sure you call some doctor other than me. 

Thank you and good night.

This is your brain. This is your brain on serotonin shutdown.

From the "Anxiety and Stress Management" blog by Dr. Patricia Farrell from WebMD.com.

...The latest finding on social phobia is brought to us through SPECT (single-photon emission computed tomography) scans which have now verified the biological basis of this problem. We know that two specific neurotransmitters (serotonin and dopamine) seem to be related to the disorder and a small study in Europe has now confirmed an imbalance in the functioning of these chemicals in the brain. The study was published in the May issue of the Journal of Nuclear Medicine.  Some 15 million adults in the US suffer from social anxiety disorder.

The researchers point out that this is an important first step to making a connection between the disorder and a biological basis for it. They do, however, caution that they can't say whether the people in the sample had the imbalance prior to the appearance of the disorder. So it would seem that this is yet another example supporting a biologic, genetic, environmental basis for some anxiety disorders and to treat them as medical disorders.

Super!  Now all I need is some sorta biologic, genetic, and environmental basis for why I save my toenail clippings.  But I don't know why I worry because they make super-pretty candles. 

Really.  I saw how to do it on Discovery.

Trivia

The most effective key word that triggers a click on my Google ads for my clinic is STD.

The least effective?  Health.

You can only look at 'em so long. *Sigh* You can only look at 'em so long.

Yesirree, son.  Let this be yer first lesson on bee-u-tiful women.  Sooner or later, you're gonna hafta talk to 'em.  And too, too many times, take it from experience me boy, it's goddess opens mouth, unleashes dumb.

Don't say yer Daddy didn't warn ya.

New study suggests that tight glucose...oh, Anne Hathaway? Humina, humina...

Unfortunately, I coulda never had the chance with the likes of her because, just like my wife, Ms. Hathaway only likes studly Italian guys with gi-normous...wallets.

The Jazz Age

There's no particular reason for this pic except that I like it.  (Click to enlarge it.) From The Sartorialist.

You see, this is why I'm not rich.

I have grand ideas--like the website below--but I guess the difference between a buffoon and an entrepreneurial genius is action.

SarahJessicaParkerLooksLikeAHorse.com.

Don't feel so bad, S.J.  I had an ex--and a present father-in-law come to think of it--who called me The Hamburgler because of the size and shape of my head.  (I told her that I was merely higher evolved than she.)

Don't feel too sorry for SJP, though.  She is crying her horse-face all the way to the bank.

I can hear the collective groan through the web now

Old joke:

Q:  How do you get a Catholic High girl to stop having sex?

A:  Marry her.

~

I was just thinking.

Maybe I should be glad if my son goes to Catholic school.  Maybe I should not oppose the notion so vigorously. 

Because if Catholicism has given us nothing else--other than that guy in the pointy hat in the pretty church every Christmas Eve on TV--it has given us a dogma so ridiculous and repressive that many--especially Catholic high school girls--feel the need to rebel against it!

All together now!

Thank heaven for Catholic girls....

Dude! Sweet!

From Dude, Where's My Car?

[Jesse and Chester have tattoos on their back that say "Dude" and "Sweet"]

Jesse: Dude! You got a tattoo!
Chester: So do you, dude! Dude, what does my tattoo say?
Jesse: "Sweet!" What about mine?
Chester: "Dude!" What does mine say?
Jesse: "Sweet!" What about mine?
Chester: "Dude!" What does mine say?
Jesse: "Sweet!" What about mine?
Chester: "Dude!" What does mine say?
Jesse: "Sweet!" What about mine?
Chester: "Dude!" What does mine say?
Jesse: "Sweet!" What about mine?
Chester: "Dude!" What does mine say?
Jesse: "Sweet!" What about mine?
Chester: [angry] "Dude!" What does mine say?
Jesse: [screaming] "Sweet!"

Let the tidal wave begin

Even former Democrat and now Independent (he became an independent because he lost his party's primary in 2006 but then won in the general election) and former Vice-Presidential nominee Joe Lieberman is going for McCain.  And, by definition, against Obama.

From an email from the official JohnMcCain.com website:

"To: Fellow McCain Supporters

From: Senator Joe Lieberman

Date: June 5th, 2008

Today, I asked Senator McCain if I could create and chair a new grassroots organization, 'Citizens for McCain.'

Citizens for McCain is an organization within the McCain campaign for people who put country before political party and support the candidate for President who has a proven record of bipartisanship.

As you know, I caucus with the Democrats as a United States Senator and was the Democrat Party's nominee for Vice-President of the United States against President Bush and Vice President Cheney.

But first and foremost, I am an American. I have an obligation to do what I think is best for our nation regardless of political party. My love for this country and strong belief in John McCain's character, judgment, and willingness to work with leaders of both parties has convinced me to support him for President.

I have worked with John McCain for many years in the U.S. Senate and know from experience that he can unite Democrats, Republicans and Independents like no one else in this country. He did it in the United States Senate and he can do it as President of the United States."

The Emperor of Ice Cream

 by Wallace Stevens

 Call the roller of big cigars,
 The muscular one, and bid him whip
 In kitchen cups concupiscent curds.
 Let the wenches dawdle in such dress
 As they are used to wear, and let the boys
 Bring flowers in last month's newspapers.
 Let be be finale of seem.
 The only emperor is the emperor of ice-cream.

 Take from the dresser of deal,
 Lacking the three glass knobs, that sheet
 On which she embroidered fantails once
 And spread it so as to cover her face.
 If her horny feet protrude, they come
 To show how cold she is, and dumb.
 Let the lamp affix its beam.
 The only emperor is the emperor of  ice-cream.

OMFG

Okay, maybe there are some good reasons to live in a city.  I can think of at least two.  Tomorrow night!  I'm, like, sooo there dude.

La Tartine Gourmande

I can't remember if I've already recommended this particular blog before, and I'm too lazy to check.

But talk about vittles! 

If you simply want to see stunning pictures of food--mostly French stuff that honestly doesn't always sound so yummy to me but it's beautiful to behold--and gorgeous European vacation destinations, check out the blog here.

New Orleans ain't the South

I visited Ponchatoula for the first time last weekend.  Well, okay, I drove through part of it.  It seems like small-town U.S.A!  Trees. Yards.

I didn't hear any gunshots. No Jay-Z either. 

One of the city folk I was with remarked how nice it was.  But added this caveat, "Yeah, only it's just so far from civilization."

You mean civilization as in the highest per-capital murder rate in the Western Hemisphere and perhaps the world???

Or do you mean civilization as in I can drive to the mall in five minutes flat and hope I don't get raped and murdered in my walk in the park afterwards? 

Sure, sure, those kinds of things can happen anywhere.

Except they don't.  At least not as frequently as in the paradise we call New Orleans.

~

This here smart lady just emailed me:  What, pray tell, are vittles?

Wellll doggies!!!...You must be one of them there high-maintenance gals!  Darlin', I'm always glad to take time out to 'splain to city-folk about Granny's vittles.

The word vittles evolved from victuals.

From Merriam-Webster online:

"vittle

Main Entry:

¹vict·ual 

Pronunciation:

\ˈvi-t^əl\

Function:

noun

Etymology:

Middle English vitaille, victuayle, from Anglo-French, from Late Latin victualia, plural, provisions, victuals, from neuter plural of victualis of nourishment, from Latin victus nourishment, way of living, from vivere to live — more at quick

Date:

15th century

1: food usable by people
2 plural : supplies of food : provisions"

And I'll bet y'all didn't think I was edge-e-cated!  Now--as you Leeziana folks like ta say--here's a lil lagniappe for ya: a recipe for squirrel stew. 

Granny's squirrel stew--her secret was stewin' the squirrel head until just before servin' time--was so deadgum good, it'd make ya slap yer grandma.  He-he, unless yor grandma's Granny.  In that case, I'd run for the hills cuz Granny, she shoots a mean 12-gauge.

Shoo-ieee.  City-folk.

Curds writer repeats McCain endorsement

Remember Reagan beating Mondale down like a dirty, mangy, rabid, ugly, vomickin' dog?!?

Well, get ready for the new largest landslide in U.S. history!

Barack Hussein Obama, Jr. v. John Sidney McCain III.

Let's get ready to rummmmmmmmm-bbbbbbllllllllee!

Thousands of children dead? But what about my Hummer?

Nevermind that it is estimated--estimated because of the tens of thousands of persons still missing--that over 180,000 humans have died (so far) in the disasters last month in the country formerly known as Burma and in China, including TENS OF THOUSANDS OF CHILDREN! 

Nevermind murders, rapes, pedophile priests. 

Nevermind child abuses of all kinds.

Nevermind human suffering everywhere, even under our own eyes in the richest country the Earth has ever known. 

Nevermind all of that. 

This "community organizer" is praying for cheaper gas.

From the Washington Post:  "'This whole thing is a wake-up call from God to Americans, because we idolize men so much,' said [the probably Doctor-Reverend Rocky] Twyman...'I think through this crisis, God is trying to call us back to depend on Him more.'....

For the past several weeks, Twyman has assembled a group at a soup kitchen...They have driven to a gas station, locked hands, said a prayer, purchased gas and sung the civil rights anthem 'We Shall Overcome,' with an added verse: 'We'll have lower gas prices.'"

'I think it's a wonderful thing,' said Mirrine Thorne...Thorne, a mother of four, said gas prices have limited the activities she can do with her kids on the weekends.

'Nobody else is doing anything,' she said. 'God is going to do something.'"

Fucking morons.

[Photo : San Francisco Chronicle]

Sugar pills may be bad for you

An entrepreneur is marketing placebo pills--that's right, sugar pills--for parents to give to kids with minor aches or complaints.

Experts aren't amused.  One professional in a New York Times article suggested the best placebo parents can give--and one that parents have been giving for millenia--is a hug and a kiss.

Click the teensy-weensy "X" on the corner to get rid of the ad and see the lyrics.  And beware of the annoying (and LOUD) ad after the show...Remember that a one-time, hypo-allergenic and fat-free registration is necessary for the New York Times stories.

This American Life

Some great things in life are still free.  Hugging my son.  Watching the sunrise.  And radio. 

Well, the non-satellite version at least.

"This American Life," hosted by Ira Glass, is a superbly entertaining hour-long (and free) radio broadcast from public radio that you can also download to your iPod (for free).  For example, a recent show's theme--each show has four "acts" or segments around a central theme--was prom night.  About how super-important prom is to us when we are 17 or 18 and then about how we are usually embarrassed about the big to-do of it for the rest of our lives.  But at that time, picking who to go to prom with was practically as important as choosing a spouse.

One segment of the recent prom episode centered around a Kansas town where the seniors danced the night away unaware that, at the same time outside, their homes and lives were being forever altered by a tornado that destroyed 75% of their town.

Not that the show is always heavy.  It's sometimes funny, too.

So, why am I bothering to recommend it?  Because it is rare that anything--other than Sonic's chili-cheese coneys with bacon and extra onions and Guinness brew--leaves me wanting more. 

"This American Life" always leaves me wanting more.

For free.

Alpha-dicarbonyls and Saturday night

Q:  What do these two things have in common?
 
A:  Alpha-dicarbonyls are a family of chemicals which may be the culprit behind that skunky-ass beer you got in the French Quarter Saturday night. 

Scientists are studying what makes beer go bad.  Read more here.

Ain't science the best?!