If I don't get to talk on the phone in the car I don't think you get to talk on the phone while you rollerblade at night with no helmet on. I'm just saying.

IPOD

IPOD, I love you! LIke gravy, frosting and ketchup (or in some cases mayo) you make things better! You make three miles of Lake Calhoun so much fun and fast!  Sure, thirty minutes of me listening to my head is pretty entertaining. But, wow, when I can hear the spice girls and jump over dog poop at the same time, that is bliss.  Even more entertainment when you bounce out of my ears and I play "pin the ear bud back in the lobe" while trying to keep my pace. Fun times. You think of everything IPOD.

Parrano Uniekaas Dutch Cheese

The Culture of Eating Things: Parrano Uniekaas Dutch Cheese. Three things: Pale, yet approachable Hearty and surprising Already ate half the wedge. But the real question: Is the rind for eating? Answer, still not sure but have peeled the wax off.

St. Paul Art Crawl '09

Sure I eschewed(not quite the right word) the Zombie Crawl for the Art Crawl but I still didn't avoid the weirdos. 'Nuff said. But the highlights of the night were... Almost illegal parking Stereotyping the punk bar The chocolate Lab that was terrified of the fifteen foot trailer spider in from of the downtown library. Artist Matthew Rucker: Everything he does is magic. His art was this years poster winner but all his work is so simple, concise and in out of this world. Genius. Plus his cat was well poised next to the art and good at people observations.  Seeing all the cool artist lofts. One day one will be mine. A cool one with huge window and high ceilings. The light painter guy that I forgot the name of that gave us a demonstration. Very cool. Perfecting the "Ah! food! sneak attack on the snack tables.  And the North Dakota photos, because I have to like them On the not so plus side: Lots of under-priced work(good for me, not for them) Missing artists when I am trying to buy their things Pretentious family members of artist that jump into your conversations But pretty good, we kind of lost it after five flights of stairs to see weird stuff. That was it. Actually we lost it in the lobby of what seemed to be the art of old folks, which is probably why there were no steps to get to that.

P.O.

Post Office, don't pretend you are on Lake Street when you are clearly on 31st. Of all government offices to fake their address, you should be ashamed. Set an example Post Office, think of the children.

FACE FOR RADIO

The first step to celebrity-dom. Today MPR, next the world.

At least they didn't air the story about how I met this play. But they did keep asking me to retell and retell the story.

The Culture of Eating Things: Burger Jones

Burger Jones, are you going to make it? Your Nutella milkshakes was great! And the S'more milkshake was delightful too, with whole marshmallows! But is that enough? The Hangover Burger was good, I love fried eggs in anything. And egg yolk spilling over a burger is an awesome condiment. The hot sauce seemed to be there for looks. Instead of putting in over the egg, it would be more effective taste-wise directly over the burger. The bun soaks up the hot sauce making the bottom of the top bun looking like a used feminine product. I did not eat this part of the bun. I can't comment on the bacon I didn't eat it, I only wanted it because it is best friend with the fried egg.  Burgers are good. Is that enough? The Tri-tasting fry tower. Great, really great. I kept eating the parmesan waffle fries well past my stomach fill level. And I always like choosing fancy dipping sauces. The sweet potato fries were good too. But the regular old potato fries were the best! Soft and crunchy, neither salty or bland. I wish I had dived into those first before my belt expanded to it's next belt hole. But the bottomless bowl of homemade pickles. That is where it is at. If this restaurant was called Pickle Jones, it would last for ever. Spicy and sweet with a bite and a melty-ness. Those were the best pickles I have ever eaten. And show me a pickle I haven't gotten my mouth around.  But it is called Burger Jones. And what I question is the atmosphere. A little school cafeteria-like. A brand new cafeteria in a middle school but still cafeteria like. There is few booths and they are low so there isn't a lot of privacy. And when I am shoving a burger into my face I don't want to be distracted by the attractive man sitting behind my mom eating cheese curds alone while reading a book. I could not focus. And how hot is me and my yolk explosion burger and handfuls of parmesan waffle fries? A woman wants to eat giant messy burgers with a little privacy, I cannot worry about being kittenish when I am lioness with a kill.  And Burger Jones I have seen your illustration. I have seen you in your geek glasses. Do your geek glasses have staying power? And it bothers me that you hold that giant double patty burger like a serving plate, would that bottom bun really be stable enough to hold that way? Or do you have a plate under there? And what about that nine foot profile photo of you eating a burger that a diner can't help but stare at since the visibility of the cafeteria landscape is a million miles, if I am not staring at another tables handfuls of fries I am staring and you with your geek glasses and electric cheeseburger.  Burger Jones prove my intuition wrong and have many anniversaries in your open unprotected mess hall. Maybe dimming the lights would work. Or a privacy screen could come out with each burger. But Burger Jones, with your trendy geek glasses, I wonder how will you adapt when everyone starts wearing contacts? Or gets Lasik? Or wears aviators? Or rhinestone cat-eye glasses? Or when EVERYONE wears geek glasses and then you are just a normal guy impossibly holding a giant burger, instead of a hip, cool one? Oh, Burger Jones, what will you do? You can't just get people excited over adult milkshakes forever, some of us are lactose-intolerant.