My 8 year old is gowing so fast it looks like she will be taller than me by the time she is 10 years old.

That's all very well but does she think Chris Rock is funny?

Yes, some of his skits from that show he had where he doesn't swear (much). But she prefers Wanda Sykes. Her tv stuff anyway.

Back to my 8 year old's height. Her legs are almost as long as mine at this point and we'll be wearing the same size shoes in about a year.

What are you two feeding her? and can you patent it?

Fly

Did she like Over the Hedge?

She hasn't seen it yet, wants to and told me it's on DVD. This weekend's movie rental...

Couscous and kimchi.

She does like seaweed. Seaweed soup and roasted laver. Maybe that's it. Her little brother is tall too. I think he'll be bigger than me by the time he's 8 or 9.

I was recently accused, by a rather posh Englishman, of being 'a bit posh'.

A blogger credits Bux with getting NY City Council member Alan Gerson to back off on banning foie gras:

Yesterday, I incorrectly identified BobdG (Bob Del Grasso), a fellow blogger at ruhlman.com, as the constituent who called Gerson's office to oppose the ban. While Bob DID call Gerson, he is not a constituent - the actual constiuent was another fellow Ruhlman blogger, Robert Buxbaum. Although I was the one that instigated the e-mail and phone "jihad" by alerting my fellow bloggers and NY foodies (at ruhlman.com, as well as e-gullet) and mercilessly called and e-mailed Gerson and all the councilmen representing me and my family across several districts, I am giving the credit to Robert, since I technically am not in Gerson's district.

[from Gawker.com]

"Mommy, look at my shnozzle!"

Lo, there a crayon up there.

Shades of Edith Ann!

http://www.lilytomlin.com/charns/edithann/ea_book1.html

"The doctor looked up there and do you know what he found? He found a parcheesi dice..."

Last night I am standing waiting for the bus on Fifth Avenue and 52nd street, taking in all the December hoopla--the big star, the red bow on Cartier, the clanging Salvation Army bell--when I become aware of an incongruos sound. Lo and behold, it's a Mister Softee truck.

Ooh, for a minute there, Daisy, I thought you were going to say "Clang clang clang came the trolley."

This morning's Wall Street Journal was a bit deja vu surreal. Top left Op-Ed was a discussion of Google vs Copyrights. Gulp. We MFers were running with this yesterday. Then the Weekend section has an article on comedians cleaning up their acts , moving away from not only the "n" word but away from "gross-out material" and filth. "There's a quiet contermovement toward clean comedy." Under this is an article on champagne by the Gaiter/Brecher regular duo with an inside discussion of flutes vs traditional bowl shaped champagne glasses.
Have they been talking to Rancho? I'm beginning to think they are mining us for ideas! At the very least the MFs are on the cutting edge of thought! We are SO smart.

we are so smart! s m r t.....i mean, s m a r t....

Speak for yourself. I'm dumber than a boar's testicle.

It's enough to make me want to support a ban.

@ poet's house, today

God, I hate Florida.

But is Nataly liking it?

J. and Sonny were at the USGM this morning when they spied a young mother and her child shopping nearby. The mother was saying things like..."Would you like an apple, baby? We're almost ready to go home, baby. Stay here, baby." J. approaches the mother and says: "Did you actually name her Baby?" The mother replies "No, it's just that we have twins and I can't tell them apart so I call them both baby and they call me mama"

Shortly thereafter, the husband with the other twin joins them. J. looks from child to child and sees that the children do not look very much alike at all and are obviously fraternal twins.

Clearly, these people were kidnappers.

I saw a street vendor selling cannabis-scented incense

I just saw John Updike's double hanging around the corner where I live in San Juan. Uncanny unless it was actually him. Doubt that.

Rabbit Does San Juan.

Poor bear is in exile. They had to close the children's room, as they have given up the office space (in which it was located). So the big bear is hanging out in the library, and looking very bored.

(They do still have a children's program, but now held in the library: poetshouse.org.)

It turns out that the MFer who lives in the building next door actually lives catty-corner to me.

So I saw you guys at the party on Saturday.

6 year old nephew calls me on the phone on Sunday morning.

6: I called to tell you I have chicken pox!

Me: But weren't you guys vaccinated?

6: Yes, but the vaccine is only 90% effective. 10% who get the vaccine get chicken pox anyway. But because I got the vaccine, I probably won't have an acute case of it.

Me: Are you miserable and itchy?

6: No, I told Mommy to use solarcaine on me and it works. Our pediatrician had never heard of using solarcaine for chicken pox but now he says he will recommend it to other kids.

Me: Don't scratch and pick them!

6: But I want a matching scar on my forehead like you and Mommy have.

Me: Okay, but don't scratch the other ones.

6: I'll try not to. I'm thinking of inventing kid sized sleeping gloves with elastic at the wrist so kids won't scratch themselves while they're sleeping, but I'm not sure what fabric I should use. And I don't know how much they would cost to manufacture. But maybe I could sell them to pediatricians.

Me: Sounds like a good idea.

I can put him in touch with the person responsible for Armbandits!, a similar product to protect cooks' lower arms from burns. Have him e-mail me (you know my address).

Goin' South, an anthology of southern rock for which I have just seen an ad includes Radar Love. "South" implies Limburg, then.

He is TOO much. I love it.

I have listened to Anjali's "Stinging Sitars" hundreds of times since I first found it, even making it my cell's ringtone. I don't know how obscure it is, but I've never heard it elsewhere until recently: Cingular is using it for their ad for Blackjack, so every time the spot comes on, I think it's my phone ringing

The 2L and 3Ls just stormed our last class of the semester yelling and screaming and handing out jello shots. The surreal part: We all just sat there, annoyed, because our professor had not finished explaining class actions!

i can hear my father upstairs trying to convince mrs. jones, a professor of american literature, that "moby dick" is not an american, but an english novel.

Congrats on finishing up the semester!

Thanks!

Now I just have finals.

In a bizarre story from the AP wires, a mother had her son arrested for going next door to his grandmothers home and playing with his christmas present early.

Mother had son arrested for opening his present early

Certainly surreal.

Petty larceny? Where's Victor Hugo when we need him?

Which parent do you take after?

i have, of course, inherited only the best qualities of both. that is to say their love of eating.

my father and his brothers are notorious bullshitters. in this instance, rather than admit that he was wrong he first proposed that melville's citizenship was irrelevant since the novel was allegedly not american at all in its themese or characters, and when this was shot down began to spin a theory of how in the 19th century it made no sense to distinguish between english and american.

He should obviously have been a philosopher.

Customer in the cheese department, sampling a blue cheese:

" Wow.......you can sure taste it a long time. It makes you its bitch."

He's from Waco.

i'd like to read more of his impressions.

He should be on a food web-site. In fact, I can think of a perfect one for him.

yes. today for lunch my mother made a quintessential bengali mustard-paste fish preparation, using some controversial asian white fish (basa). it came out quite well, and while she was musing about the various kinds of versions of this mustard based prep out there, my father, who does not know how to boil water, presented as solid fact the need to use amchur/mango powder for sourness for a "real" mustard-paste dish. my mother fixed him with a withering glance and said, and i translate, "please don't open your mouth if you have nothing to say".

That's surreal?

what?

I think I see a TV show in your future. A sort of academic version of The Kumars at No. 42.

Oops nevermind. I didn't follow the thread correctly.

Liar:

You are entirely your father's son.