Category: Uncategorized

Rick James, Fay Wray and now Julia Child. I used to love her show, as well as Dan Ackroyd’s great impression of her on SNL.

Evidently, we’re supposed to wear jeans to battle breast cancer. Charlie Sheen says so. Why do I link to this item? Solely because of the opening clause about Mr. Sheen: “One of the most prolific actors in Hollywood . . . “

The most messed-up story I’ve read in a long time, courtesy of Drudge.

Anyone know how to say, “Eumenides,” in Tagalog?

From time to time, I let other people get in on my Virtual Memories. Today, official VM girlfriend Amy has something to say:

I’m not naming names, but a certain scrawny-ass blogger accuses me of chubby-chasing because of my laissez-faire attitude toward (or encouragement of) unhealthy eating habits. It’s true; I don’t care about a few pounds here and there (keep in mind that she’s 5’4″ and about 110�ed.). A low-pitched fatty grunt doesn’t necessarily put me off. And perhaps I do find voracity appealing, as it indicates an expansive passion for life, a juiciness I gravitate to in other people.

But honestly, it’s an unfair accusation! I realized today that, as I come from a typically wide-bodied south Louisiana family, nature AND nurture are conspiring against me. Check out this article.

I really shouldn’t be surprised by the stuffed deep-fried burger, I guess. My people start spaghetti sauce with a roux, fry turkey, and bacon up everything short of dessert while dishing recipes the way others discuss Michael Moore’s shading or all things Olsen.

I’ve gotten wonderful cooking tips from the men at the gun range and even once kept an ex-boyfriend around long enough after breaking up to coax a secret family recipe from him. Heartless? Sure. Proud of it? Not especially. But it’s the best steak marinade YOU’LL ever try. (Holymotherofgod . . . A STUFFED DEEP-FRIED BURGER?!)

Ahem.

Sure, I understand the perils of an immoderate lifestyle: diabetes, heart disease, celibacy. But you know what? This still sounds like a good idea to me.

—Amy

X-Box: So good, you’ll organize a death squad to brutally murder 6 people and a dog for it!

James Lileks on Ikea:

And we’ll have to shift around a lot because this sofa feels like a washcloth draped over some two-by-fours, but it’s a hip washcloth.

Article over at BusinessWeek about executive blogging. It’s kinda neat (I think they’re REALLY wrong with their comment about the current number of blogs in existence), but there’s a typically impenetrable comment from FCC chairman Michael Powell in it:

Blogs also give readers the chance to respond. Powell wrote in his first entry that he turned to blogging “to try to get beyond the traditional inside-the-Beltway Washington world where lobbyists filter the techies. I’m looking forward to an open, transparent, and meritocracy-based communication.”

As ever: Huh?

Rick James died yesterday in his sleep. Fortunately, I still have that Dave Chappelle episode about him and Charlie Murphy on my TiVo. The official VM girlfriend and I derailed our plans to watch Into the Night and replayed that priceless bit of programming instead, in tribute to the old boy.

Here’s a little bio.

Update Aug. 11: Nice obit on Slate, by some guy who’s evidently a 7th grade music teacher. MY 7th grade music teacher was obsessed with the “Paul-is-dead” theory, and swore that he was shown for a moment in the crowd in the film of the Beatles’ Shea Stadium concert. Thanks, Mr. Reiner!