Fess Up
Greetings from humid and incompetent Malaysia, where the ATMs stop working after midnight, and the internet slows to one fifth of its daytime speed. Now, you could take a less hectic approach to telecommunications as the sign of a more civilized society, but to inflict the molasses-webs on jetlagged and tweaking travellers seems to be the height of barbarity. There will be no link to the hotel where I am staying, after they managed to take three attempts to connect the mighty Cutesome to my room.
I was magged to the nines for the sleepless flight to Kuala Lumpur - Forbes, Spin, Rollingstone, the Economist, the Atlantic, Foreign Affairs, MacUser and The NYT Magazine. Once I decided neither to drink excessively, nor managed to dislodge the chap in the next door seat, I needed every single piece of paper I could get my hands on. There was only so much entertainment to be had from the weird Sky Captain-esque uniforms of the Korean Air staff.
(Holy balls. I just googled Korean Air to get their link and find this litany of safety problems at Wikipedia. Nice. I can't talk too much to the "cockpit culture" of the Koreans, but will say that at some point one of the flight staff bullied me into drinking this vile-smelling thick and creamy Korean green tea. It was alright.)
I also read the entirety of the Sunday New York Times. It included this from Nick Confessore about the unstoppable criticizin' skillz of the Atlantic Yards opponents. Only it missed the only celebrity stadium blogger that called a stadium supporter "unabashedly evil", and demanded that the Borough President be tarred and feathered and left keening in the gutter in Bay Ridge.
To be frank, the piece seems like an NYT attempt to flatter Norman Oder, who has been particularly critical of the Times (needless to say, it didn't work). The Times can be funny that way, and sometimes I think their reporters really do think that getting mentioned is love enough. Sometimes they're right. Why didn't you mention Gumby Fresh, you f***in' f***s? Is it because I don't know what I'm talking about and debase the public discourse? Fit to print my a*se.
As you can tell, today I am mostly VERY HAPPY
Turbonegro - "Don't Say Motherf***er, Motherf***er"
Buy "Apocalypse Dudes" here. Last album before they gave in to their gay side
Oh, and RIP Underberg. I miss that cranky ruin already.
1 Comments:
jeez. if that's flattering then i bet norman would be happy without the times' praise.
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