didordied

I am Prince Caspian and I’m a total pussy. I liked the first movie, although i really think the effects were done by some lion obsessed 12 year old with a first release G4. When your lion looks like a dude in a bad cat suit you’ve got problems. Okay so maybe the lion looked alright, but the bear, that was a dude in a suit. The only thing he was missing was a diaper and masturbation. Thats right folks i referenced a masturbating bear.

The sequel to chronicles features prince Caspian (see the pussy above). The way i see it is his only role in the movie is to let all the racist (or whatever you call the people who hate Narnians for no other reason than the fact that they are Narnians) go home at the end of the movie because they are so disgusted with the idea of living near the Narnians that an unpredictable future in another land- any fucking land - is better.

Overall, if you can get over how much of a fuck up the prince is, you’ll like this movie. Oh Oh, and if you like magic, i loves the magic, i believe in it too. Especially if you believe that blowing in a horn can make 4 prepubescent children come to your town, then you’ll really love this movie. Seriously though, you’ll get your fill of fighting, guys dressed up as horses, horned beasts, and a tiger. Kinda like West Hollywood on Halloween.

The only thing i dont understand is why this movie is PG and Iron man, which has way less fighting and death, is PG 13. Please someone explain that to me.

I did Narnia, and shes a ho. You should do her too, if you get the chance.

Today was free Southern Chicken Sandwich day at McDonald’s.  Although I had no idea what the quality of the sandwich would be like, the price was right for me (I look forward to more comments from readers about what a cheap asshole I am).  So, I hit the Crackdonald’s in Downtown, Los Angeles for a little lunch.

The sandwich looks like this:

It’s basically a filet-o-fish without the fish, cheese, and sauce, oh, and with pickly things.  Helpful, right?  What I mean is that the sandwich is little more than the same bun, a breaded chicken breast, and three items that McDonald’s represents are pickles.  I gotta’ say, there are few things more simple and tasty than that McDonald’s bun.  As you sink your teeth in, you can taste the fact that there is nothing nutritiously redeeming about it.  The chicken was pretty tasty too.  It was all white meat, unlike the old school mcnuggets from when I was a kid that clearly were made from alternative protein sources.  My brother and I used to break them open before eating them because there were always two types.  There were the ones that were white inside that tasted closest to chicken.  Then there were the ones that were a different texture and sort of brownish.  We never ate those.  You should probably consult your doctor if you did.

Back to the sandmich . . . it wasn’t greasy at all, which surprised me.  I could have done without the pickles.  They were pretty soft and gross.  But if you like the ones on the other Mckie D burgers, then you’ll be fine with these because I’m pretty certain that they are the same.

All in all, I enjoyed the sandwich and would eat it again, but not for the almost $3 they charge on days that it is not free.  It belongs on the dollar menu.  And it needs a little more kick, perhaps from a sauce.  Unless the word “Southern” in the sandwich’s title means bland and boring, the sandwich needs some spice.  But in a pinch, you’re going to be okay with this one.

The Southern Chicken Sandwich at McDonald’s . . . I did it . . . and you should have too when it was free!

I used to know a guy named Man-bun, but Nanban-Kan is a restaurant. He was also Chinese and this place is Japanese, so big difference for us Californians not-so-much for the mid-westerners.

We decided to grab a light dinner before going to see Ironman and the destination of choice was Nanban-Kan, a Japanese Hibachi / Yakitori restaurant in West Los Angeles. If you haven’t been here before you will inevitably be confounded by the parking situation. I’m fairly certain whoever altered this parking lot reads a lot of Bizzaro Superman comics. The complex they are in has been under construction for somewhere near a year now and maybe this can be an excuse for the lousy parking- but at best an excuse. As you drive into the parking lot, mind you this is after you have found it, and finding it is not simple, you find that all the cars are parked the opposite way of in which you are driving. The immediate thought is that you went in the wrong entrance, but you didn’t, this is the only entrance, and its just a bizarre alternative to the usual. I cursed, many times as i tried to turn my car around so as to conform to the others. With the vehicle taken care of it was time to eat.

This place has been around for 30 years, and is filled with regulars. Its location primes the Japanese pump and many a local feasts here daily. Some even bring their own food. Luckily enough we were there early and had some of the reserved signs moved off of a table so that we may partake. The rooms and tables are tiny, so if you are above average size or grotesquely obese, i suggest take out. Its better for you that way anyway, no one to stare at the mass quantities that you shove down your gullet, no one to wonder if its the wasabi or your morbid obesity that is making your eyes water

Speaking of gullets- the menu is filled with items that you rarely see at Bennigans. Oh - yes you got me, Benny’s isn’t Japanese cuisine, okay Benihana. Sorry off topic again- menu- thats right the menu has some rarities on it. Chicken gullet, chicken liver, chicken feet (this is from memory so it might be off a bit- but you get the picture) the one that caught my eye was Chicken Balls. My first thought was that is sooooooo not going to fill me up. Followed quickly by the thought- chicken balls, is that like the Japanese version of prairie oysters. (Oh- and as an unrealted side not- Don’t order DingleBerry Ice cream and Baskin Robbins- just dont do it). Sadly to say Chicken Balls are only a chicken meatball done on a japanese barbeque. tasty though- made me wonder how it would be to have the real thing- Step it up NanBan-Kan, step it up- lets see some real chicken ball son the menu next time. I bet prep time is a killer on those.

So as to not drag this review on beyond the point of oblivion, cause im getting bored writing it, and i’m sure with the average United States Americans (yes that’s a beauty pageant reference) attention span, i lost you at grotesquely obese. Here’s what you get:

Peanut dipping sauce and a salad to start- tasty enough. The sauce actually allows me to tolerate the taste of a raw carrot. My theory on raw carrots in restaurants- DON’T.

Then we ordered a variety of items. the tastiest of all of these was the corn. Simple fresh local ingredient done to perfection. Really- there was nothing on this corn but butter and salt. It was cooked to perfection (i’m betting they boil it first then throw it on the BBQ) the light charring on the kernels made the thing to die for.

Black cod, nicely done but nothing to wake up in the middle of the night for- nor the middle of the day. I love naps.

Pork Wrapped Asparagus. Now this one they stole straight from the Coliseum hot dog vendors. (Have you had the dogs wrapped in bacon- AKA Diarrhea Dogs- Yum- serious yum) NanBan-Kan style- replace hot dog with asparagus = gourmet diarrhea dog- okay okay- it was delicious, but still a stolen Los Angeles art form. Nicely done. (BTW you cannot get the Coliseum dogs anymore . There is a law prohibiting grilling of dogs on dog carts in Los Angeles.)

Most of the things we had at NanBan-Kan were average to above average with the corn being spectacular. However, one item stands out among the rest as being just freakin awful and that was the rice. Its as if they didn’t cover the rice as it was cooking and just kept adding water. Thank you for the rice reminiscent mush- this is exactly what i would expect from a restaurant who’s cuisine is based on a culture that has rice as its main staple. MMMmmmmm- maybe it was a fuck you from the chef for ordering rice, it didn’t seem to be a popular item.

Nanban-Kan an above average Japanese restaurant that serves stellar corn, above average in most dishes, has a nice atmosphere, is well decorated, and serves the worst rice in Los Angeles.

K- well- i did Nanban-Kan and I think you should too- at least for the corn. Do It

Yesterday I had a tasty little microwave lunch.  I brought Trader Joe’s microwave chicken shu mai with me to the office.  They looked about like this once cooked:

Notice the authentic plate to make me feel like I didn’t just get my lunch out of a box.

Now these little dumplings from heaven are supposed to provide you with a few servings.  But it took the whole box to fill me up for lunch.  I’d be surprised if most men wouldn’t put away the whole box. 

Here’s the upside.  First, they take only 90 seconds to microwave.  You just rinse them in water and then cover them before placing them in the microwave.  It did look kind of odd though when I was rinsing them in the drinking fountain on my floor.  Sorry, no real kitchen at my office.  Make sure you microwave them for the full time.  Otherwise, you get a frozen center at the heart of the shu mai pop. 

Quick microwave time is imperative for me because when it comes to waiting for food, I have major ADHD.  My brain goes crazy and I just start eating anything else in sight.  I’ve been known to pilfer my fridge for olives, pickles, cheese, and anything else handy while I wait for the beep.  Sometimes I’m not even hungry once the microwave is done.  So, quick cooking time was great.

Second, they come with a good sauce.  A lot of times the sauces that come with frozen goodies are terrible.  But this sauce tastes pretty tangy.  And you don’t even have to microwave it.  See previous section about my problems with waiting for things to cook in the microwave.  The only problem with the sauce . . . if you pour it over all the shu mai, you don’t get much of the flavor because it is so thin.  Best to put it in a dish and dip your dumplings.  Oooh . . . that sounded dirty.

Third, the box says there is chicken and veggies inside.  Check me out hitting my food groups.  No bagged carrots for me when shu mai is on the menu.  And if sodium was a food group, this shu mai had it covered.  Plus, don’t forget the diet 7-Up I had . . . lemon and lime . . . servings of fruit . . . what’s up!?!

The downside . . . this stuff smells strong, and the odor stays with you.  Lunch repeated on me a couple of times, and boy did I race for the gum.  The shu mai also kind of makes your pee smell.  Although the jury is still out if I prefer the regular smell of my urine or when my urine smells like a Chinese kitchen.  The jury is also still out on whether the odor was caused by the Chinese massage parlor, instead.

I gotta’ say though that I’ll take the smell for the great taste.  I’ve already picked up another box for a quick and easy lunch next week.

Trader Joe’s Microwave Chicken Shu Mai . . . I did them . . . and you should too.

This afternoon I stopped in at the Kerlan-Jobe Orthopaedic Clinic to find out why my pinkies were tingling and my left arm was going numb.  The clinic is located in Westchester, just off the 405 South, and right near The Promenade at Howard Hughes Center.

My appointment was scheduled for 2 p.m. with Dr. Norman P. Zemel. 

I was referred to him by my knee doctor.  And to preface the remainder of this review, I went into the office with extremely high expectations, not only because of how great my treatment was for my knees, but also because of the amazing reputation the clinic has.

Dr. Zemel is an interesting fellow.  He was wearing an Anaheim Angels championship ring and had assorted Mickey Mouse ear pins on his white coat.  He also rocked a massive comb-over that originated from the bottom of his hairline on the back of his head.  You’d think the doc for the Angels would have keen enough eyesight to think twice about the comb-over.

Besides all of this, Dr. Zemel lived up to my expectations.  I had very little paperwork to fill out, much of which involved my marking where it hurt.  I resisted the urge to draw an enormous wang on the page.  I probably only resisted this urge because the woman working the desk was very cute.

I’d complain about the poor magazine selection in the waiting room, but seeing as they took me only 7 minutes after I arrived, why bother?  Not only did they get me in a room quickly, a physician’s assistant saw me just 3 minutes later.  She spent a fair amount of time asking about my symptoms and taking notes, which begged the question why Dr. Zemel repeated much of her efforts.  No matter.  Dr. Zemel had answers for me in a matter of minutes.  Turns out my ulnar nerve in both elbows had slipped and each nerve was being compressed and inflamed when I put pressure on my forearms and elbows.  Long story short . . . I have to stop leaning on the arm rests on my chair when I am working at the computer.  Can’t wait to see what that diagnosis costs me. 

It was also nice that there was a ton of parking in a structure adjacent to the office and they validated parking.  I was there for about an hour and ended up paying $2.55.

Kerlan-Jobe and Dr. Norman P. Zemel . . . I did him (that doesn’t sound good) . . . and you should too for any hand and wrist problems (that doesn’t sound great either).

Did you know that there was a Star Wars Preseq,middle of the- umm its somewhere before Leia gets knocked up and its after Padame becomes enamored with a kid who is at least 7 years younger than her. Lucas loves out of the norm sexual relations: Luke and Leia…. Padame and Annie…. (made that lezzy on prpose- lucase should have as well)

In Lucas’s long struggle against acting, he has finally found a medium that will get rid of any shed of human relation to the screen actor. He almost accomplished this with his choice to have Hayden Christensen play Anakin Skywalker. I would have rather seen the little kid do the whole series, as annoying as he was he was a slightly better actor, and it would have been hysterical to see him in the Vader suit at the end. The only thing better would be to put Jonah Hill in the Vader suit at the end and have him make some bionic cock joke.

This one is a totally animated adventure and discusses the time of the clone wars. I’m mildly interested. However, a quote from Lucas, in the Los Angeles Times Article, worries me, “There really isn’t any story to tell there,” the filmmaker said.. Truth be told George, we kinda knew that already. He also goes on to say that this transformation of Anakin into Darth is really the interesting part of the tale. Yes, maybe it could have been, but you already fucked that up with Revenge of the Sith. Truly did anyone really go see that movie to see the transformation of Anakin, or did we go to see an hour of Darth Vader killing off Jedis. Dissappointed again, but I wont vent on the old SW movies here. (I know… too late)

The cartoon- I mean, animated film will have a follow up television show. Fuck- in my desperation and hope for something that resembles the original series ill end up wasting my time and watching these. Damn you Lucas- you wizard, how do you make me watch your crap.

And when i do- did it! I’ll post that magnificent review right here!

Oh enchanted your my little wicked pantless elf, running the four seasons through my living room. My wife picked this movie- and i pleaded with her not to, i said honey, there are only two things that can happen when we watch this; 1. I hate it, and you love it, and you hate me for hating it, (think back to Sex in the City, Medium, Queer as Folk, Where the boys arent- oh no wait, i loved that one….2. I love it and you think im gay- end of marriage, however possibility of getting in better shape and going to boys town. I love boys town, all the tight pants and Hanes snuggies. Its like a winter wonderland with balls as Xmas ornaments.

Alright i’ve scared myself enough. I really did try to hate this movie- i really tried hard, and there are plenty of moments where Patrick Dempsey is on screen and you think to yourself what an ass- not like in the gay way, as in Ooooh snuggle those shorts over here, what an ass- but the, what an ass on the douche bag side of assness. Well, i couldnt hate it. Not Dempsies ass- that i hate, but the movie i couldnt. It was well enough done and made light of the usually disney crap enough that i giggled like a sexually confused waxed chested little boy- yes my wife made me wax before we watched this, and Uncle Billy was there too- really weird night.

Anyway the movie is: Cartoon, song dance, real life, song dance, big fight, the end. Some dance scenes i swear were right out of Batman and Robin- they were gay.

One thing to mention is the main character, as all princesses in Disney movies, has a alarmingly close relationship with the wild kingdom. She has the ability, through song and dance of course, to make the animals do her bidding. For instance in one scene she decides she needs to clean- cue the whistle, cue the music- bam pigeons and rats clean the house. I was wondering what would happen if you placed her in the woods, and beat her a bit, just so shes bleeding a little. Then cue the hungry bear. Nature versus nurture, whistle and sing, rip and tear……

I did enchanted and enchanted did me back- i dont think i would watch it again, but i know i will. Especially since my wife already said “lets watch it again!”

Last Saturday I hit Gordon Biersch in Pasadena to catch the NBA Playoffs.  Gordon Biersch was hard to find as it is buried down an alley.  But it is easier to find than the Barney’s Beanery in Pasadena, which I had intended on going to but could not locate after taking a wrong turn.

Once you do locate the alley, you walk down into a really nice outside seating area.  Only problem . . . the place was empty.  Dead.  No matter.  We were headed for the bar to watch the game anyway.  Only problem . . . this bar is where husbands go to die.  Seated at the bar were a bunch of men, by themselves, with shopping bags from women’s stores hidden at their feet.  This is where husbands came to escape the further torture of seeing yet another fucking paper mache rooster at the Pottery Barn that would go just great in the French country home their wives were slowly erecting to serve as their dungeons.  These men were so defeated that when we got there, they were watching Access Hollywood.  We quickly changed that.

Now that I’ve gotten that out of my system, let me tell you what else blows about this bar.  Besides the immasculated men, the place was full of super-masculine women.  My friend thought there were some burly lesbos hanging out in front of us.  I just thought they were large and unattractive women.  Tomato.  Toe-mah-toe. 

Gordon Biersch does have pretty much anything you could want to drink.  They even brew their own beers.  I tried the special, which was quite refreshing even to me . . . and I am not a beer drinker.

The food, however, sucked.  I tried the simple approach figuring who could screw up a burger and fries.  Oooh!  Oooh!  I know!  I know!  Gordon Biersch can.  The burger had no flavor and was really greasy.  The tomato on it was overripe.  The fries were the worst part.  They were coated in garlic.  In fact, there was so much damn garlic on the fries that I had to order dessert to get the disgusting flavor out of my mouth.  Notice that you can infer from this statement that although the fries sucked, I ate them. 

For dessert I had some sort of peanut butter, chocolate, Oreo, concoction.  It was enough to almost redeem the place.  Almost.  But it just couldn’t salvage all of the above plus the extremely unattractive waitresses.  Although the 22-year-old hostess with the . . . how shall I say . . . spring-loaded body made up for that.  And the service was pretty impressive.  Our waitress was very attentive and had a fun personality. 

One more weird note . . . the place was a haven for MILFs. 

You’ll find tons of parking in the various parking structures around Colorado Blvd.  But if I were you, I’d try some other restaurant or bar on the street.

Gordon Biersch . . . I’d rather die than do this again. 

Last night I took a date to Father’s Office on Montana in Santa Monica for a little Cinco de Mayo action.  I gotta’ tell you that I was really surprised that the place had nothing special going on for the holiday.  No deals on Mexican beer.  No discounts.  Nothing.  Not even a lousy pinata.

Where to begin?  For starters, there was no valet when I got there at 7 p.m.  There was, however, ample street parking, but I doubt that would be the case later on in the evening.

When I walked into the place, I was surprised by how cramped it felt inside.  The place is literally the size of my father’s office.  And as the night went on, the place got packed.  So, it got really warm in there, which I guess is smart because then you order more cold beer of which they have a massive selection.  In fact, I think the selection is too big.  I’d rather they had less beer and more options of other beverages.

I hear the food is great at this place, but I wasn’t eating.  And to tell you the truth, the odor of the food coming from other tables was enough to make me never want to visit this bar again.  The place absolutely stunk of onions.  Even my beer mug smelled when I went to take my first drink.

You know what else I didn’t like?  The bar stools are in terrible shape.  The floor is uneven in the bar and the stools are loose and don’t balance well.  I almost fell off mine before I even started drinking.  I noticed a few other people having the same problem.  Also, I could only see one television in the place.  So, choose elsewhere if you’re looking to watch the big game.

One plus was that the girls in the joint were pretty cute.  The guys seemed to be ex-frat types.  Read into that what you will.  And by 8:30 pm, there wasn’t room for anyone.  If it’s a table that you’re after, you better get there early or wear comfy shoes for your wait.

Father’s Office . . . I’d rather die than do this again.

The weekend passed away, yes another dead weekend, rather sad, but yet not uneventful. There is a review of a movie that i will post shortly, I’m procrastinating, or maybe just teasing the the keyboard with my thoughts. However, some things just can’t wait.

I review for you the humans, my neighbors. This will be an ongoing series of ponderings and useful brain oozings about an experiment of people (its got to be an experiment) that live next door to me. I’ll fill in the background as i post so as not to reveal all the delicious detail all at once. (I don’t want anyone to have a info overload orgasm of holy shit how do you live next to them).

I’ll be brief:

1. family of 3 (sometimes 4), 2 years ago 5 (sometimes7).

2. Non U.S. born. (i’m not either - but i love the flavor that statement brings)

3. Crazy as all fuck. (They deny this, I’ve commented on it to them before, yet still no sign of a proclamation of insanity from any of them)

This Sunday i played golf, as is my habit. Short game- 9 holes- 50 shots, some swearing and a lot of amazement of how a ball can curve so much. I came back and picked up the family to get some breakie at the local farmer’s market. Pull the car up, pile my family in, back out of the drive way, and pull away down the street. I get five feet and out of the corner of my eye i notice the offering.

They must be providing appeasement to the gods. It’s got to be some blossoming of summer ritual where an offering will, i dont know, umm bring them more useless crap throughout the year. The scene stands; in front of an immensely trunked tree that stands on the city side of their sidewalk, they have placed the following collection of items.

1. Box o’ Can’s: These are not soda cans offered to the homeless as a gesture humanity. No these are old (I do mean old they must have been sitting empty for years) canned vegetables. All of them open, and rusting puking out the smells of past vegetation. Oh look a fly.

2. Box o’ Shoes: A collection of some of the finest foot wear a man or woman could come by. Beautifully hand crafted, is that a urine stain on that one, oh my, please keep the children away and call the CDC.

3. Splatter o’ shit: I wasn’t sure of some of the content, there was a lamp, or some type of candle holder painted in dust. It looked like it had been in the kitchen, it had that grime on it that you find when you decide to clean the very top of the cabinet that is nearest your stove top. Greasy grimy fuck all, jesus chirst i need gloves just to look at this shit.

4. Ironing Board: i wanted to leave that one by itself, it didn’t fit neatly into any of the other categories. Just a plain old ironing board. With stains, and rust, and rips, a complete beaut…..

Mind you none of this is very amusing by itself, but what is great is the crayon 3rd grader hand written sign that was placed as a direction to all ye who cometh by… (it was actually on top of the cans, but i’m assuming it applied to all items) “Free: Please Take”

My laughter could not be held in. They actually felt the need to put everyone on notice that this shit you can take. “The shit i have over here is free for the world. I stored it for a while, I’ve been thinking about it, and I’ve decided that it has stayed with me long enough”- so come on world its here for you.

It’s still sitting there, and i suspect it will be for a while….