Category Archives: Malevolent Billionaires

Special Joint Edition of Superb Blurb and 128-Word Recommendation: Winter’s Tale

Winter’s Tale by Mark Helprin

This is not a light snack (Harry Potter; The Princess Bride). This is not a homemade meal with a twist-ending dessert (Ender’s Game; Hunger Games). This is a Restaurant Week full of tasting menus and omakase (The Lacuna; The Dark Tower). You cannot read this fantastic (in both senses) book in one sitting.  You will not want to.  You must savor each bite, let the flavors roll around on your tongue, and sit back to digest before you take another spoonful of wordsmithing the likes of which you rarely encounter. It’s about a burglar, a soothsayer, a horse, a bridge, a newspaper, malevolent billionaires, a city. It’s about the past, the future, a parallel universe. It’s about love, faith, surrender, loyalty, humor, justice, destruction, and triumph. Five courses:

1. Peter Lake and the horse race through the Bowery:

Peter Lake spurred the horse again, and extended his right arm like a lance, pointing it at the motionless officer. As they went by in a blur of white, he lifted the man’s cap from his head, saying, “Allow me to take your hat.” The enraged policeman pivoted, took out his notebook, and furiously wrote a description of the horse’s buttocks.

2. Isaac Penn and the police exchange frantic telegrams in their search for Beverly:

BEVERLY MISSING STOP JAYGA SAYS ELOPED WITH SEER STOP ADVISE STOP

WHAT QUESTION MARK EXCLAMATION POINT FIND HER STOP CHECK THE ROOF STOP LOOK EVERYWHERE STOP

EVERYONE LOOKING EVERYWHERE STOP CANNOT FIND HER STOP ADVISE STOP

LOOK HARDER STOP

STILL CANNOT FIND BEVERLY STOP

LOOK EVERYWHERE STOP

WHERE IS EVERYWHERE QUESTION MARK STOP

DO YOU WANT SPECIFICS QUESTION MARK STOP

YES STOP

HOSPITALS HOTELS WAREHOUSES RESTAURANTS BAKERIES ROPEWALKS STABLES CARGO VESSELS DAIRY BARNS PRODUCE TERMINALS BREWERIES GREENHOUSES ABATTOIRS BATHS POULTRY MARKETS GOVERNMENT OFFICES RETAIL ESTABLISHMENTS WELDING LOFTS INDUSTRIAL GARAGES GYMNASIUMS FORGES SCHOOLS ART STUDIOS HIRING HALLS DANCE PALACES LIBRARIES THEATERS OYSTER BARS POTTERY BARNS SQUASH COURTS PRINTING HOUSES AUCTION PLACES LABORATORIES TELEPHONE EXCHANGES RAILROAD STATIONS BEAUTY PARLORS MORGUES PIERS ARMORIES COFFEE SHOPS CLUBS KILNS MUSEUMS POLICE STATIONS BICYCLE TRACKS TANNERIES JAILS BARBERSHOPS REHEARSAL ROOMS BANKS BARS CONVENTS MONASTERIES SALAD KITCHENS STEAMSHIP TERMINALS CHURCHES GALLERIES CONFERENCE CENTERS WHOREHOUSES MUSIC SCHOOLS AEROPLANE HANGARS AND OBSERVATION TOWERS STOP DID YOU LOOK IN THE BASEMENT STOP

YES STOP

3. The newspaper The Sun’s rewrite editor is briefly introduced:

Hugh Close, The Sun’s rewrite editor, had the boundless energy of a hound, and was always perched upright, like a Labrador waiting for a stick to be thrown into a cool lake. He had a red mustache, and red hair that was sculpted to his head like clay. He could see puns in everything, and one could not speak to him without suffering an embarrassing disinternment of double entendres. His suits were gray; his shirts had collars with bars; he could read a thousand words a minute upside down and backward (the words, that is, not him); he knew all the Romance languages (including Romanian), Hindi, Chuvash, Japanese, Arabic, Gullah, Turqwatle, and Dutch; he could speak any of these languages in the accent of the other; he generated new words at a mile a minute; was the world’s foremost grammarian and a master of syntax; and he drove everyone mad. But The Sun was unmatched in style and linguistic precision. Words were all he knew; they possessed and overwhelmed him, as if they were a thousand white cats with whom he shared a one-room apartment. (In fact, he did not like cats, because they could not talk and would not listen.)

4. Hardesty travels with Jesse:

“Why don’t you just shut up,” said Hardesty. Jesse didn’t open his mouth until the frame he made to hold his clothes near their fire collapsed, and his purple knickers burned up. From that time forward, he went bare below the waist except for a New Guinea style penis shield that he fashioned from a discarded Dr Pepper can and hung from his waist on a piece of reepschnur. He soon took to extolling this form of dress as if he were a Seventh Avenue designer introducing a new line. ”It’s very comfortable,” he said “You should try it.”

5. Boonya explains to Christiana what her duties in the kitchen may entail (George Martin would love this):

“Good,” said Boonya, as she led Christiana to the kitchen. “But you may not be familiar with the foods that Harry Penn holds dear to his heart. He and his daughter have favorites, which I’ll teach you how to make.”

“Like what?”

“Oh, durbo cheese stuffed with trefoil, camminog, meat of the vibola, roast bandribrolog seeds, satcha oil hotcakes, young Dollit chicken in Sauce Donald, giant broom berries,creme de la berkish tollick, serbine of vellit, pickled teetingle, chocolate wall herrnans trail lemons, Rhinebeck hot pots with fresh armando, parrifoo of aminule, vanilla lens arrows, fertile beaties, archbestial bloodwurst Turkish calendar cake, fried berlac chippings, cocktail of ballroom pig, vellum cream cake, undercurrents, crisp of tough boxer lamb sugared action terries, merry rubint nuts, and rasta blood-chicken with sauce Arnold.”

Hat Tip: Emily E.

Occupy Wall Street, By the Numbers

These colors don’t run: The number for the National Lawyers Guild, in case of arrest.

Number of bare ladybreasts: 4
Number of bare ladybreasts that turned out to be male ladybreasts: 2
Number of people who boasted of taking a shit at the W hotel and, either before or after, stealing two bottles of booze from the bar: 1
Number of people who seemed certifiable from a distance and were proven to be so upon closer (involuntary) inspection: 2
Number of literal tree huggers: 8
Number of freestyle rappers: 7 (2 black, 4 white, 1 omg so white)
Number of free items I was offered: 5 (trail mix, dry socks, T-shirt, poncho, plastic bin)
Number of times someone took my photo: eleventy-billion
Number of times someone asked to interview me: 1
Number of times I refused: 1
Time the streams of old people showed up: 6 a.m.
Number of crazy rainshowers: 2
Number of hours my butt was soggy for America: 8.5
Degree to which I needed to pee: nth

Where the Sun Really Don’t Shine, Like, Ever: In Which Baji and Gojira Are…Blah Blah Blah (Days 4 and  5)

Day 4: I Dream of Haleem. Baji begins the day with a cup of hot coffee, three of Dr. Praeger’s Potato Pancakes and cinnamon french toast. Gojira wakes up to discover that she has contracted meat face, a condition that results from the overconsumption of meat and manifests itself in red splotches upon one’s face. (Meat face is commonly accompanied by meat body, also contracted during this vacation.) A failed attempt to go beachcombing at Manasota Beach due to high winds and cold temps nevertheless results in a handful of shark’s teeth for Gojira to use to replace her own teeth when the time comes. We seek warmth in the form of mochas at neighboring Venice Beach.

Cures What Ails, or Chills, Ya

Throwing caution to the wind, we try out a strip mall Thai restaurant, where Gojira politely excuses herself before spitting out a dumpling not to her liking.  Just to be bossy, Baji insists on following tradition and makes Gojira pick out her own mug at the Goodwill store and makes TP pay for it. Back home, TP exercises, Baji naps and Gojira downloads Scottish-accented apps.

The kids are afforded an opportunity to participate in the $2 per bag bonanza at the library but instead hit the computers for some game time. Baji and Gojira carefully select another bag’s worth of books to donate to the retirement community’s clubhouse library and include an inscription in each one.

Two out of two Bajira!s recommend this reading

Baji makes black bean soup which nicely complements the meat dish Nani made for us. ZP asks, “Auntie Gojira, can we play hide and seek ten times?” Gojira assents and ZP counts them off, telling Gojira where to hide each time and squealing in terror each time Auntie Gojira finds him (even though she is the one hiding). After the tenth time, ZP asks, “Auntie Gojira, can we play hide and seek twelve times?” Gojira suggests lounging time instead and is rebuffed. Baji remains safely hidden for the duration. After the kids and grandparents are asleep, we netflix. We have our doubts while watching I Am Alan Partridge, but then the references to 20-foot chickens and ladyboys cocktails win us over.

You farmers, you have great big sheds that no-one’s allowed to go in, and inside those sheds you have 20 foot chickens! And the chickens are scared because they’re so enormous, and they say “why am I so big?” and they look down and see all the other normal-sized chickens, and they think they’re in an airplane.

Day 5: Meat Face Flies Away. Baji starts the day scrounging around for the amazing cream-filled Italian doughnuts Gojira brought over but forgets that she gobbled those things up ages ago. Gojira starts the day with 12 pieces of french toast or thereabouts, one piece of banana bread, one potato pancake, and half a paratha. A light breakfast (and totally vegetarian!). She scares the children one last time, then Baji and TP take her to the airport. TP and Baji morosely find ways to fill their Gojira-less time by buying some car seats, going to Jummah/napping respectively, and playing tennis/watching tennis respectively. Gojira has developed Meat Scalp and has not eaten since. TP and Baji are eating broth for the next ninety days (depending on what your definition of “broth” and “ninety” is).

Did Bajira! turn their award–winning blog into a BBC miniseries starring Colin Firth and a cheeky monkey? Did Baji finish writing Good Fishing in Florida: The Musical? Did Gojira drive off a cliff? We’ll never know, because we’ve reached the end of our travelogue (though most of you know that Gojira can’t drive, on or off cliffs, and that Baji refuses to write any musicals without assistance from Joss Whedon).

Where the Sun Really Don’t Shine: In Which Baji and Gojira Are Baji and Gojira (Days 2 and 3)

Day 2: Breakfast and Books Bonanza. As promised, Nani makes Gojira a mountain of buttery pancakes and true to her name, Gojira eats the mountain (her own) as well as the little hill abutting it (the beasts’). Then throughout the day, when no one is looking (and also when they are), she sneaks more pancakes from the fridge. ZP asks Gojira what her sister’s name is and when Gojira tells him that her sister is a brother and his name is Graxenheimer Schnitzel the Third, ZP says, “That’s a silly sister.” Indeed, ZP, indeed. AP tries to hobble Gojira to prevent her early departure by smashing Gojira’s foot with a basket of eggs. Concerned, AP takes the eggs to the local cardiologist, who is playing minigolf in the next room. He declares them bad for her cholesterol but good for the adorableness pageant.

With the threat of thunderstorms turning out to be empty, we return to the Jacaranda Public Library a few minutes after it opens and attack the book sale, where you can fill up a plastic bag with books for just $2! We each fill up a bag and have a grand old time, taking pictures of the sign for “Adult Videos” (consisting of videos about World War II) and of us with Wagamama Lackawanna Jacaranda eyes (you had to be there, and by “there” we mean “Ireland” and by “you” we mean “we”). TP reports that he is enjoying the country club’s tennis courts and so we go to Fatty Starbuckles and drink some caffeinated beverages while reading our books, one of which is the all-time classic  Good Fishing in Florida with a supremely useful author‘s note:

Rube Allyn’s Advice

Visit consignment store in attempt to find a sweater for AP in light of the inhospitable cold spell we are subjected to.  Return home, where Gojira is forced to speed-read  A Short History of Tractors in Ukrainian because Baji will take it later. Gojira multitasks by devouring the book and a bowl of keema, which she washes down with mango lassi. In the evening, TP exercises while Baji and Gojira lounge around on the couch until bedtime during which we lounge around watching Lost. Baji patiently endures Gojira’s questions: Who is Jacob? Which past-future is this? What is that on Claire’s head? Did you know that those “Iraqi” goons just said, “Dost thou want to come with me?” Sawyer loved who?!

Day 3: Sushi! Also pancakes. Baji, TP and Gojira go to the outlet mall and look for a can opener. TP finds a shirt, a belt, and some kickin’ kicks; Baji finds a jacket and a styling yellow ensemble for AP; Gojira finds some underwear. Using the food court’s free wi-fi, we hem and haw over a place for lunch and finally decide upon Bonefish Grill, where we are cruelly denied entrance seeing as how they don’t open until 4 pm. Driving aimlessly and hankering for fish, we spot a sign for a sushi place at a local strip mall near the airport. Screeeech! But first we have to convince TP that mall sushi is clearly going to be safe and good and amazing.  In fact it is, and later he pretends it was his idea. We applaud Kumo Japanese Steak House and Sushi Lounge and mark it for future visits.

Tempura Tower awaiting destruction by Gojira

Later we buy more chips and eat them in the car as an appetizer for our meaty meat meat dinner (spinach and gosht and leftovers). Inhale Häagen-Dazs chocolate ice cream while thoroughly enjoying Julie & Julia (particularly when we draw similarities to our own cooking—”poaching an egg is not that hard!”; “living with her must be exhausting”; “I hate cutting onions like that”—and blogging). Agree that we like Julia better than Julie.

And then what happened? Did Bajira! commit aggravated philanthropy on a group of defenseful senior citizens? Did we plaster Lil Baji’s room with posters of Robert Pattinson? Did one of us contract a rare tropical disease? Some of the answers and more tomorrow!

Where the Sun Don’t Shine: In Which Baji and Gojira Are Reunited (Pre-Day 1 and Day 1)

Pre-Day 1: Reunited and It Feels So Good. Baji travels to Sarasota in the company of a charming scared-of-flying-so-snacking-throughout Canadian who reveals her admirable frugality by explaining how she drove to Buffalo and flew for $300 rather than departing from Toronto for $900. Baji is pleased with her fellow canjoose traveler. The next day, Gojira lands in Sarasota and is greeted by Baji, Baji’s snazzy hairdo and TP. Baji, Baji’s snazzy hairdo and TP are in turn greeted by Gojira and Gojira’s snazzy hairdo. First things first: We buy some arrabbiata chips and blackened pretzels for which Sarasota is famous. Then we eat them in the car. We see an unbelievably enormous planet-sized yellow moon and consider whether we are driving to the house or have ended up on a movie lot where we will be threatened with expulsion or, worse, get hit on the head by a boom mike. We go home to our retirement community off Jacaranda, which is not Lackawanna, where Gojira gets to see the beasts, highly smushable and cute as always. Baji looks on with fondness from a safe distance in hopes that they will accept their new mommy while old mommy seeks refuge on the couch. With her feet up. And without being on high alert in case of attack or demands. Bliss and meat (haleem and keema with a side of bhindi) for all.

Day 1: Florida Pretends to Be Sunny. Sous-chef Baji preps the makings of the Spanish Tortilla and Chef TP assembles and plates it. Breakfast contentedly consumed, we make plans for lunch. Today turns out to be the only really sunny day and fortunately we spend the majority of it outside.  A 40-minute drive turns out to be an hour and a half due to the unexplained stand-still traffic but we finally make it to St. Armands.

Señor Pulpo after having spent too much time in the alleged Florida sun

Lunch at Crab and Fin with Señor Pulpo and his pals, followed by gelato and cafes at Le Macaron (not to be confused with El Maricón).  We saunter and wander and meander around the circle until we collapse at incomprehensibly soft-sanded Lido Beach, where Gojira makes a sandboot, Baji makes a sandhigh-heel that doubles as a cast and TP makes a face. Gojira and Baji lie in the sun and listen to several Ricky Gervais podcasts while intermittently breaking the silence with fits of giggles and repetition of what Karl Pilkington said, which makes us miss what Ricky and Stephen JUST said and so we rewind and laugh all over again.  “Just pop it on your wrist!” is trotted out on several occasions whether or not it is appropriate at the time.

With extra kid-free time still allotted, we hit the Goodwill bookstore but are offended by their “half off the cover price” gouging and attempt to salvage the scavenger hunt for cheap books at the Jacaranda Public Library instead.

“I’ve had it up to HERE with your … (air quotes) RULES!”

Apparently our citified ways don’t play well here and we are chastised for attempting to purchase anything at the book sale at 4:45 pm when the library closes at 5 pm. We seek and find solace in meat (Italian meatballs and more haleema) and flan.

And then what happened? Was Gojira attacked by the precursor of a 20-foot chicken? Did Baji attempt to buy books with a heretofore unheard-of “twenty” dollar bill? Is Locke really dead and what’s up with Claire’s hair? Find out tomorrow, when our exciting non-adventure continues!

ne plaisante pas avec les Français

Exhibit one: The civilians, when the law doesn’t seem to be working, will take matters in their own hands and deliver justice in a nice, neatly wrapped package.  With a bow even!

Exhibit two: The mayors, when they don’t see eye to eye, will take matters into their own hands and cause a massive gridlock despite the trouble it causes their respective contituents.

Exhibit three:  The billionaires, when the first wedding isn’t over the top enough, will take matters into their own hands and have a second wedding with internationally renowned sexy hotnesses just to make sure the top has been successfully overed.

Exhibit four: The guards of far flung castles, when they are encountered by anyone anywhere at anytime, will take matters into their own hands and take taunting to the dizziest of heights.

In Which Gojira Takes Down a Councilman, Threatens—and Then Tries to Make Friends With—a Mayor (Who May or May Not Possess Nuclear Weapons), and Cries Giant Google Tears

gojirahatesgoogleTuesday night was the two-hour season finale of Big Brother 11 (leave me alone, I’m fascinated).
This was a hotly anticipated event in the Gojira household. Unfortunately, the Gojira household is still working late hours editing books about carbon-dioxide-emitting vaginas and was not able to catch it. Therefore I spent Wednesday in a state of Internet lockdown (difficult when you use the Internet for work every three to five seconds), avoiding potentially dangerous websites, averting my eyes every time I checked my email (Yahoo likes to drop in bits of “news” even on the email page), and blocking my ears at the slightest hint of anything resembling water-cooler talk (unnecessary given that none of my coworkers are as base as I am).

This meant I couldn’t find out the results of yesterday’s primary election results in which I had hoped to cast the decisive vote against Alan Gerson for his role in enabling Mayor Malevolent Billionaire’s quest to get down with his despotic self.

So after this carefully orchestrated 24-hour period of Internet semi-abstinence, I went and did THE DUMBEST THING EVER. I mean, really. Even while I was doing it, I was thinking to myself, “Self, this is about to be THE DUMBEST THING EVER.” And it was.

I came home, all giddy with anticipation, but no! The finale was not yet on Netflix (you usually have to wait about 24 hours after live broadcast to watch it on Netflix). WHERE WAS IT? WHEN WAS NETFLIX GOING TO STREAM IT?! The agita looked set to engulf me. I needed to know and I needed to know now.

Internet, I googled.

I googled. I shielded my eyes while looking at the results, but no amount of shielding can protect you from the words (**SPOILER ALERT**):

North Carolina waitress wins $500,000 grand prize on CBS reality TV show.

Gahhhhhh! $@%#^*%*!! And also—fuck!

Okay, so now that I’ve ruined my life and any chance at happiness, can someone please tell me when Netflix is gonna stream the damn thing?

P.S. There is a bright side to all this: We did it! Sayonara, Alan Gerson, I told you not to let him do it. Malevolent Billionaire (yes, I know it’s a redundant expression), New Yorkers are taking you down next. Gojira cannot be stopped! (Except by nuclear weapons, which your billions can buy. Oops. Would you like a candy bar? Let’s be friends.)