I could totally see Laura doing this

Rasputin is soon to make his entrance to our troubled, conflicted world as Laura will give birth October 15th. Hurrah. Hopefully she will not do this:

Shop thief in lactation attack
Friday, September 21, 2007

A would-be shoplifter squirted her breast milk at a store detective when he tried to stop her stealing goods. The woman exposed her breasts and fired away after being confronted at a Co-op store.
The attack in Leicester is thought to be the latest in a trend in which thieves try to get their DNA on security officers so they can accuse them of sexual attacks if caught.
Graham Collins, of security company Citywatch, said: 'It started off with people picking their noses until they bleed and then accusing staff of assault.'

TV! TV! TV!

Enough of this physical activity shit. The new TV season is starting and I'm celebrating by giving Kenny The Torturer a good swift kick.






What I will watch:
1. Reaper: supposed to be funny. Reminds me of Buffy.

2. Bionic Woman: because I'm an enormous geek.

3. Dirty Sexy Money: What's not to love?

4. Pushing Daisies: supposed to be cute (some say TOO cute, but hey I'll be the judge of that).

5. Heroes: see #2.

What I will not watch:

1. Any reality show (with the exception of Ramsey's Kitchen Nightmares).

2. Boston Legal: eh not so much.

3. Cane: Although Jimmy Smits is always smokin'.

4. Journeyman: Because I'm not that much of a geek.

5. How I Met Your Mother: yeah yeah yeah, but I never really liked Friends either.

You will note that there is nothing from HBO on that list. Because THEY SUCK. Sorry, that's my disappointment talking. I tried to watch "Tell me you love me" and like so much that's supposed to be about sex, it was profoundly unsexy and unpalatably pretentious. Blech. "Deadwood" seems like such a long time ago.

I will also continue to watch the NFL in my quixotic attempt to win at least one week of the fantasy football league. Thus far, my performance has been rather like that of my team's namesake: Posh and Becks. Terribly skinny, virtually useless, but with an occasional flash of brilliance.

Death March with Cocktails*

Pictures are of us at the Arcade Fire, LCD Soundsystem concert last night at the Hollywood Bowl. That's Bruce (Iain's youngest brother) and their friend Lee. I do not have a photo of Brian as he was snuggling a new friend out of frame.

We partied like it was 1988. Both sets were amazing - Arcade Fire is tremendous live - I gotta lot of time for any band with a hurdy-gurdy. LCD was totally different than I thought they would be, but super fun. They sounded so much like the Talking Heads, it was eerie. After the concert, the boys swanned off the Chateau Marmont where a friend was DJing that night. Sounds very glam, but I went to bed. WHY? you ask. I'll tell ya.

Day 5 of the British invasion, and this visit is like a Death March with cocktails (*apologies to Tim Goodman). Lordy can those men party (and I've only been a spectator). I'm working this week so I'm in bed most nights at a normal hour, but the boys have not come stumbling home until 3a at the earliest, or the 2 days where one or 2 of them DONT COME HOME AT ALL. Just to give you a taste: Brian used his Jedi mind trick to crash a party at a club in Hollywood, which turned out to be the movie rap party for - and I'm not kidding here - "Ninja Cheerleaders". As Arcade Fire would say, "You better look out below!!"

Minne-apple report

First things first. Grandma is ok. She's 88, has a bad heart, bad lungs, and they just lopped off some of her colon, but all things considered, the tough old boot lives to fight another day. After they gave her some serious drugs, her old perky self took over. She told me lots of funny stories about the characters I have the (mostly) good fortune to be related to. i.e. My great grandpa was a bootlegger and dragged my grandpa around the upper midwest trying to outrun the feds while he sold moonshine out the back of his truck. Anyway, it was nice to have that week with her even if it was less than pleasant.

MN is an ok food town, if not a bit timid. I went to an interesting restaurant in St Paul called Heartland. I think I get what the chef is trying to do with all the local ingredients, and sometimes it worked (wild pigeon mousse with rabbit jam) and sometimes it was excessively fussy just for the hell of it ("Sherried golden-raisin-sheep-milk ricotta gateau with cinnamon creme anglaise, peach-chockecherry butter and chocolate sauce - whew!). Lovely wine and atmosphere. Also had a fun night at the local sports bar eating wings and watching college football (where did the University Kentucky fans come from?). That night was capped by me completely humiliating Dad & Ingrid in dominos. I am amused by the simplicity of their game, now bring me your finest wines and cheeses. (actually this is all a lie. i suck at dominos).

I bought a pair of "cheer myself up" Dior ballet flats. mmmmmmm.

Well, folks, its back to my daily big glass of OJ.

But its raining in my heart...

The heat has broken...thank heavens. It is now 65, which is A-OK with me.

After a protracted battle with El Jefe (my boss) involving limited tactical nuclear weapons and viciously thrown bobble-headed dolls, I have secured 5 coveted days of Paid Time Off. I plan to spend said PTO in the fine Twin Cities of Minneapolis and Saint Paul. Barring a run in with the notoriously overzealous MSP Airport Police (motto: "Keeping Bathrooms Safe Since 1876") I will be back on BrownontheBeach Monday September 17.

Grandma Angie is not well, and will need the happy feelies from all Brown on the Beach devotees. Owen Wilson doesnt need them anymore, so send em north.

You know its hot when...

It is hotter than the surface of the sun here. HOT. We went to the beach this weekend in an attempt to stay cool. Hurricanes are horrible things, but they do produce very friendly waves. I think I'm finally getting the hang of boogie boarding...or it could be that a Pacific Hurricane is the only thing to produce waves large enough to propel me through the water. My "ladies" are a little pink. Viva la SPF50.

Too hot to blog much, but feel free to email me with any amusing anecdotes I can post and claim as my own.