Monday, September 19, 2005

What can't be delivered in Manhattan?

Greetings friends!

I have just returned from 10 days in the beautiful Mediterranean Sea, sailing around the coast of Turkey on my favorite pirate ship, and am still swaying on the inside. I kid you not. After a week on a boat, the equilibrium takes a while to work itself back out. That is, your body seems to think you should still be swaying back and forth.

Upon my return last night, I unpacked my bag and stared at my giant pile of dirty laundry thinking to myself, "I wonder how much it would cost to have somebody else do this..."

That's the beauty of New York City, my friends.

You can pay people to do just about anything that you don't feel like doing, especially after a long day's work.

I'm even toying with the idea of grocery shopping via Fresh Direct to keep from having to rush home and find parking and make it to the store before I'm ravenous for dinner... I haven't worked out the whole commute/grocery shopping/time for laundry/having a life thing here yet. Any advice?

I shall tell you how my Fresh Direct experience goes.

Wednesday, August 31, 2005

Pizza my heart...

Did you know that there are TWO pizza industry trade magzines?

What seemed to me to be an unrelated bunch of small businesses actually have quite a network goin. Pizza Today and Pizza Magazine Quarterly (which now publishes 6 issues a year).

I just had to share my fascination.

Wednesday, August 24, 2005


A man walks into a talent agent's office and tells him he has the greatest family act he will ever see... and so it goes. The Aristocrats, a documentary on the oldest, dirtiest joke in comedy, is an exquisite excuse to laugh obnoxiously loudly in a public place.

I highly recommend this film!

What I do not recommend, however, is participating in the consumption of three pitchers of Stella Artois and two shots of tequila at the Cedar Tavern afterwards. I used to go to the Cedar Tavern with an ex-boyfriend when we had trysts in Manhattan, but what stands out in my mind about the place is a scene from Augusten Burroughs' memoir about alcoholism, Dry. In the book, Burroughs meets a buddy at the tavern and drinks himself into oblivion in a very earnest and disturbing way.

Looking up at the ornate hardwood bar with scowling carved lions peering back, you can almost imagine him sitting there, sliding off the stool. Doomed.

Tuesday, August 23, 2005

Winning grass

Yes folks, it's true. The Boston Red Sox have officially gone too far in trying to capitalize on their 2004 World Series victory. I kid you not, the team is selling pieces of the field.

Championship sod.

"Preserve your own piece of Red Sox History" reads the web site.

After the 2004 Red Sox championship season, the entire field was replaced and the infield was preserved. Under the watchful eye of MLB authenticators, portions of the field were removed, transported and transplanted on a turf farm in Rhode Island.

A limited amount of Fenway Championship Sod is now available to become a part of Red Sox fans' lawns and gardens.

Your piece of Red Sox history
The sod will be cut into 18" x 9" rectangles and can be purchased for $150 (plus 5% sales tax).

This is the only thing that I have found today that is more ridiculous than my car insurance company telling me it would cost $3,000 to insure a Honda Civic. I cried.

And then I switched to Geico.

And fifteen minutes saved me $1,400.

I feel I should promote them for decidedly not sucking.

Monday, August 22, 2005

Un-intelligent debate

Did you see the crap in the NY Times legitimizing the fact that people are trying to push the Intelligent Design debate?

Giving them press just makes them think they're actually on to something! I think it's utter crap that we have an entire movement in this supposedly educated country that publicly says that god must have made living things because they're sooooo complicated. God damn, our puny minds make me sick.

Why must pseudo-scientists and advocates of creationism trod on legitimate theories and scientific thought? I mean, just because I don't remember how to do calculus doesn't mean that God does...

The more important question is this -- where is the line between tolerence and the rejection of bad ideas? The entire debate is indulging people who have nothing but this myserious quality called "faith" into trying to undermine American intellectual pursuit. Can you imagine sitting in a sixth grade classroom and being told that some people think that different forms of live evolved over millions of years through a series of identifiable processes, or that God did it?

Your head would explode.

I rarely get this agitated about a subject, but the Times covering this boondoogle is making me want to chuck rocks and my newspaper delivery boy for helping spread the poison of anti-intellectual closed-mindedness that is going to bury this country if we don't step up to the plate and get progressive.

Keep your Bible in your pants.

I think this post may keep me from ever holding a government office outside of New York or Massachusetts, and I won't play the pandering Democrat and say that faith is important to me too when thinking about my politics. Negotiating politics isn't about God. Nor is impossible to believe that things beyond our understanding will someday make sense without a magic sorcerer waving his wand.

Foods that do not survive microwaving

Eggplant Parm -- otherwise known as today's would-be lunch.

Feel free to add your own microwave mishaps!

Friday, August 19, 2005

Shoes glorious shoes!

Team. I have caved in and bought myself some wedges -- those girly shoes that look like they should have heels but are solid through across the bottom.


Aren't they cute? They're a brand called Seychelles, like the islands, and my old roommate insists they're very comfortable. She is a shoe-addict, and I fear some of it has rubbed off on me. Wedges, with their distinctive retro flair, are making a comeback on the shoe scene, so I advise getting some so that you feel "with it".

Even better, I got them from, and they will be delivered for free!

Walken 2008

From time to time, the rich and famous think that being rich and famous entitles them to do things like hold public office, and of all the peculiar folks to step into the political arena lately none is more bizarre than Christopher Walken.

Yup, Walken 2008.

The dude who played the evil angel in The Prophecy, who held a watch in his arse in Pulp Fiction, and who occasionally plays a useless psychic on Saturday Night Live would like to be the leader of the free world.

At least Warren Beatty had made Bulworth before thinking about running for office, and Sonny Bono just went for the House of Representatives seat in Palm Springs, where everyone knew he'd look out for their golf-and-martini interests.

But seriously. Have you ever heard Christopher Walken speak? It's terrifying. Perhaps that would keep folks like Castro, Putin and Kim Jong Il at bay, but mostly you'd have a nation of frightened children every time he got up to give the State of the Union address.

Baby on board?

The first thing you notice when you begin working in a Long Island office building with a day care is that children, for what they lack in size, make up for it tenfold in volume. Wow.

I just held the door for a woman with a 3 year old and a stroller with baby.

I don't think that happens in Manhattan.

Thursday, August 18, 2005

Micky D's diet?

This woman claims to have lost weight eating a McDonald's-only diet.

I guess it's all about the calories.

Beware Vonage...

Now, I was all for IP Telephony, and the use of my cable modem as a telephone and then I ordered Vonage. Feedback issues, apparently they have problems working on Panasonic phones (which I have) and now... Now the buggers won't actually cancel my service even though I've called twice to do so. I've just been transferred to account management.

On the other hand, today my weekday subscription of the NY Times kicked back in, and of course I just picked it up on my way out the door. But I didn't know it would be there, so tomorrow we'll see if I go down beforehand and get it.

Day four at my new job and I still haven't gotten any real work. So far I've e-mailed one dude about interviewing him because of his status as a "technology innovator."

In the meantime, I slept 12 hours last night. I got home at 6 and was going to lay down for a few minutes before going to kickboxing, and was out cold. I missed kickboxing, got irate voicemails from the sister I was supposed to kickbox with, and then slept for another 11 hours. I feel great today!

Here's an interesting article on getting enough sleep.

Wednesday, August 17, 2005


Tonight at 7 p.m. I am slated to experience kickboxing for the first time. My sister tells me its a lot like Tae Bo, which I love, so perhaps it will not be as difficult as I'm imagining it will be. The only thing I don't like about Tae Bo is that Billy Banks wears spandex and has a sizeable package. For some reason a dude in tight pants doing kicks and lunges is just not very manly.

What will probably be difficult will be trudging up my stairs after kickboxing.

Anyone done the kickboxing and have something to say about it?

On a more annoying note, never read the blogs of your exes. You find out awful things like that they're getting married and you want to chuck rocks at your computer screen. Best to let dead dogs stay that way.

The New York Times and me

In an effort to be more informed and to get a little more exercise, I have changed my subscription to the New York Times from a Sunday-only thing to a daily thing. I'm planning to go get it before I shower every morning, going down to the first floor and then back up to the fifth.

This is my intention at least. I'm wondering if I will just grab it on my way to work and read it in the office, or if I'll just wind up with a back seat full of crossword puzzles (I have missed them so since I went to Sunday-only).

I'm hoping that it gets me to use those stairs a little more.

On another note, I think I've decided to join a gym. Tonight I'm going to some kind of kickboxing class with my sister, and I'm certain to leave wiped out.

Two weeks til I get paid.

Tuesday, August 16, 2005

I have returned!

But it appears the Philadelphia Eagles have not decided to remain triumphant along with me. Dismal game last night, but that's what pre-season football is for. Just to make sure you didn't come into the season with your hopes up.

So far, my first few days in Manhattan, working out on Long Island have gone smoothly. This morning I grabbed a coffee and a bagel around the corner and then drove off into the Queensboro Bridge traffic listening to NPR. I so prefer commuting in a car to the train. You can sip your joe and munch breakfast. Although the train does offer the perk of allowing you to read. Driving and reading probably don't make good bedfellows.

H & H Midtown Bagels makes a tasty veggie cream cheese, but I'm still baffled about why you're handed your coffee in a paper bag here in the New York City. Are you going to take it somewhere, or are you going to drink it?

I've been out of the writing game for a while, so I'm feeling rusty here on the keyboard, however, I just exchanged a gift certificate that a friend sent from for stuff from, so life is good.

In the meantime, I'm reading back issues of the magazine I am now writing for, CRN. Delightful stuff, the tech industry! Someday, I'll get one of those columnist-about-whatever gigs, or a job at The New Yorker (me and everyone else...).

Thursday, August 11, 2005

Totally remiss, but with good reason

Team. I have moved to Manhattan, and now I have my internet connection hooked up, so I can resume my meandering around the universe of blog.

What has happened. My sister got a puppy. Max.

Max is the cutest dog on the face of the earth, but apparently too much to handle in a studio in a high-rise, so it seems that Max is going to move to New Jersey and take up residence sea-side with my parents. We believe that Max will greatly enjoy romping through the bay and chasing after things like turtles and foxes.

I now live in a little -- I mean little -- 1 bedroom apartment on the upper east side, and it's delightful! I shall post photos later when I get back home. Right now I'm staring across the bay at Atlantic City, wishing it weren't too hot to sit outside and loiter.

As for the world beyond my own back yard. This Intelligent Design argument is absolute crap, and someone needs to just say "No, this is crap, and we are not indulging your weirdo persecution complex and talking about it." Why must the Right-wing nuts think that their ideas are persecuted for being Christian when they're actually dismissed for being just plain wrong?

Thursday, July 28, 2005

I have been remiss...

I blame Harry Potter and my new apartment! Yes folks, on Monday I will be moving to the Big Apple! Well, more like Tuesday, but I digress.

In the meantime, a Red Sox pitcher got a ball in the head, there's some discussion of a dude for the Supreme Court (I hear they call them "Justices" or something like that...) and I still haven't sold my 65-gallon fish tank.

I've been talking to a monkey puppet in times of stress, and I fear it's giving me a bad reputation. His name is George, and he offers me moral support.

On an additional happy note, today is my darling sister Jackie's 24th Birthday! Hooray!

Once I get back to having a full-time job I'll get back to blogging on a more regular schedule. This being active and doing stuff not-at-a-desk is distracting!

Now I will make you smile:


Monday, July 18, 2005

Wee wizzards and late nights...

I confess I'm addicted to Harry Potter. Addicted. I bought the new book first thing Saturday morning, less than 12 hours after its release, and have 200 pages left as of now -- Monday at lunchtime. Mind you, I also spent 8 hours sleeping, 7 hours driving, and then another 6 hours sleeping. Those things were inevitable, I'm afraid.

Driving home last night to Boston along the Merritt Parkway, I was wondering who it was that would get the axe in this volume, but didn't want to know. You see, with every page I read, I come another page closer to the bittersweet end of the book. If I finish it, it's over. I have to wait another 2 years to find out what becomes of Harry and Hogwarts! Does he finally defeat Voldemort? I'll be thirty before I know, and that is mildly depressing.

The book itself is sublime. Each chapter unravels a little more of the Harry mystery with full-blown drama and a smidgen of sexual tension. Yes, 16 year old romance is in the air, and boy do those kids throw some tantrums about it.

But the point of my story is this -- every once in a while something small comes along and lets you fall into a fantasy world for a few hours where the fate of the world is in the hands of a young wizzard, not an old cronie in the White House, and like in James Bond, we are all rooting for Britain to prevail.

Saturday, July 09, 2005

Sometimes you gotta go

And now you have a way to tell if it's a place suitable for doing your business.

What will they think of next?

The Mall of America

Just outside the metropolis of Minneapolis, should one be inclined to call it that, lies the bright and shining Mall of America in all of its concrete glory.

The Mall of America has over 400 stores and one amusement park. There is a Nascar something-or-other and a wave pool. There are two stores on opposite sides of the aisle that both sell Minnesota paraphenalia. I bought a pair of monkey sox and ate at an expensive restaurant that served Walleye and Napa valley cabernet. Not the kind of place you'd expect to find in the Mall of America. This Walleye -- a local fish -- is served in every restaurant I've passed so far on my three-day Minneapolis adventure.

In the center of the mall sits its crowning glory -- Camp Snoopy. A pint-size yet imposing amusement park with two -- yes two -- roller coasters. There is a giant dog bowl full of running water. A ride called "The Axe" and a shop that sells Snoopy and Woodstock shot glasses. (The bird sidekick, not the hippie music festival.)

This evening, in stark contrast to the Mall of America's clean, commercial kitch, I dined at a down-home hipster joint called Ike's. Now, if you've clicked through to find out about Ike's, you'll see that one happy hipster went in for a drink and spent five hours there.

In fact, Ike's became more than a drink pit-stop for my colleague and I this fine Minneapolis evening. We drank like camels at a watering hole. Just kidding. But I did have a tasty chicken sandwich, sick-spicey ribs and my first Courvoisier. Lordy, that stuff is liquid fire in your mouth, but somehow so sweet and delicious. The waiter served it perched on a snifter full of warm water, meant to warm the cognac and release its flavors.

I didn't finish and felt like I was going to fall out of my chair.

What I had wanted to do in Minneapolis, my co-worker thwarted in the name of keeping down expenses (which we did not anyway...) -- head to Nye's Polonaise. A polish restaurant with a live polka bar and 60's diner atmosphere that was just calling out to my little Polish heart.

Alas, my love, it was not meant to be.

Thursday, July 07, 2005

Sorry for the delay in action, news fans...

I was on vacation in the lovely District of Columbia metro area (i.e. the Virginia suburbs) for a few days. Had some BBQ (lamb sausages are awesome), and hit the Adams Morgan scene.

Today, however, on my way to work I heard the news. London has been bombed. Over 33 people have been killed in 4 blasts. Three trains and one double-decker bus. The bus roof was sheared off from the bomb. I can't imagine what that must have been like.

You never know what life is going to hand you.

Wednesday, June 29, 2005

Edamame or lima beans?

This was the thought I had while standing in line at FreshCity, waiting for the guy in front of me to stop talking on his cell phone and take his turn at the salad bar. There are so many things wrong with this situation that I don't even know where to begin...

Let me start with the rudeness involved in getting into the salad bar line while on the telephone. First, you're obviously doing something else and the salad bar requires both hands. Second, you're in close quarters, in line with other hungry human beings, and you're having a personal conversation, loudly, with someone who isn't in line with you. And finally, it's annoying.

So, when phone-guy gets off the phone, he starts walking past the entire salad bar, slowly looking at each bin of food. What does he do? Walk all the way to the end and fill a small bowl with cantaloupe, and moves on.

I was not pleased.

The second issue I had at Fresh City today: were these soy beans (edamame, the label said) or were they lima beans?

At least I'm not hungry anymore.

Friday, June 24, 2005

International cuisine, a survey.

Today for lunch I will be having Indian food. Saag paneer (spinach with cheese cubes) and some lamb saag (spinach with lamb cubes). Indian food is one of my favorites, and while I love sampling the dishes, chicken korma, chicken tika, daal punjabi... I love the saag so much that I can't help but order it every time.

Saag paneer. So good. Posted by Hello

Which got me to thinking. I also like Thai food. Chinese has always held a warm place in my heart, and who doesn't like Sunday bruch dim sum?

So, dear reader, what kind of food do you go gaga for when sampling the world's menu?

Wimbledon chic

Last night I played tennis for the first time in over five years. Oh, how I missed it!

I went with a friend over to play at the MIT courts because they have lights, and it was late in the evening. However, 1/2 of the courts were being resurfaced and had no nets, so competition for the remaining five courts with nets was fierce. We wound up playing on a netless court, but it was still good to run around and smack the balls. Gotta love tennis.

I blame the rush to the courts on Wimbledon. The annual grass-court affair just oustide of London that made Andre Agassi tone down his look back in the day. Every time there's a major tournament, the courts pack up. Alas. Next time we're going to book a court ahead of time, which you can do.

Thursday, June 23, 2005

Yummy, basil! Posted by Hello

Serial ATA II and Rosemary plants

No, I don't know what the first part of that means either, and I spent all morning at a luncheon to talk about it. I just sat there, eating my cold roast beef and smiling. Wishing I had just gone to the office and played Snood.

No! I don't Snood at work, but the event did keep me from talking about today.

On my way home, I stopped by the Home Depot, your neighborhood repository for the necessities for any project you could come up with. I've been known to do some room painting, the occasional thing-hanging, and today I did some gardening. In addition to roses and other annuals, the Home Depot has herbs. Fresh, springy herb plants just waiting to be taken home and nurtured until (you guessed it!) they become food.

Growing your own herbs can lead to Rosemary chicken, Emeril's bacon-wrapped trout with tomato-thyme butter sauce, all kinds of things. And no, you don't have to be Martha Stewart. I keep mine on a windowsil in my apartment. No actual garden to speak of.

So, give it a try. Grow your own herbs. You'll like it. I promise. For the truly ambitious, start from scratch.

Wednesday, June 22, 2005

Love your pig!

Do you know how hard it is to find a tempting, tasty picture of pork ribs on the Internet? Harder than you might think.

But with the 4th of July coming up, I've been thinking about ribs. How when you bite into them, the warm juices run down your arm. The flavor explodes in your mouth. Washing it down with a swig of lemonade. My favorite Boston-based ribs are at Redbones. Big, fat Texas beef ribs.

However, since most of you live nowhere near Boston, chances are you'll either go somewhere else or make your own. That's the beauty of the 4th of July. The chance to kick back and barbecue with friends. Party ideas and recipes abound on the Internet, but a few of my favorites are at The Food Network and Martha Stewart's Grilling Guide. Looking for some tasty libations to serve up with those grilled treats? Click here to find out how to make everything from a mint julep to a mojito.

Barbeques are what you think about on rainy days at the end of June. Forgive me for jumping the holiday gun.

Tell me what you think

Now dear readers, I have found something that has be baffled.

The Philadelphia Eagles Belly Button Ring.

Whaaaaaa? Is this cool?

My area of expertise

My biggest weakenss is handbags. They can brighten any day. They can alter any outfit. They can make you look like a celebrity when you're wearing your pajamas if you have a nice enough bag.

The bags I own are all over the map. Some designer. Some flea market finds. Some the product of long hours of bidding on eBay. In this blog I'm going to, on occasion, showcase some of my favorite bag designers and tell you a little bit about why.

Below you will find a sweet pink bag from Kate Spade. Kate's bags have a simplicity and timelessness that a lot of designer bags are lacking. Some can be too trendy, but Kate's are always stylish.

Kate Spade Sutton Mini Perin Posted by Hello

Creepy crawly and delicious!

Today is gray and rainy, but last night, let me tell you, was a succulent remedy to a long, stressful day.

I'm talking about snow crab legs. The long, spindley orange things that you crack open, slide the sweet tender meat from, and plop, butter-soaked, into your grateful mouth. And to make it even better, the Snow Crab is Canadian! Fostering greater gastronomic relations with our sometimes skeptical neighbors to the north.

You can click here to read all about the Snow Crab.

I first learned of the Snow Crab leg and its delicousness at the most unlikely of places -- a dive bar in South Jersey called, aptly, Crabby's. I have brought friends on six hour road trips to try out this hometown favorite. (Yes, I'm from South Jersey. Go Birds!)

Crabby's has low picnic bench tables and red and white checkered table cloths with crabs on them. Each table sits waiting with a jar of oyster crackers and a jug of horseradish to much on while you wait for your steaming hot beer tray of Snow Crab. (My dad gets the sampler with King Crab, Dungeness and Blue crabs, sometimes mussells and clams, but I stick to Snow.) They have cold beer on tap, and the best strawberries and cream dessert I've ever tasted.

I have gone there for three subsequent birthdays, it's that good.

So, this morning, whatever your weather may bring, think about your favorite foods, and how they warm you up inside. I'll be thinking of my Snow Crabs.

Tuesday, June 21, 2005

Okay, I fixed it!

Now any of you can comment on my luscious blog without having to register. Sorry I didn't know about that earlier, or I would have saved myself a few *ahem* comments. However, I appreciate the love and the ongoing dialog!

So, in addition, I have to give a shout out to my buddy in California who reminded me that a shiny red Mustang is hotter than a diamond any day.

Yes, I would like to be a pepper too.

I am not a big soda drinker. I have my bouts with Diet Coke, but can't usually stand the way that soda's sugar coats your mouth and makes you feel gritty on the inside.

Diet Dr. Pepper, on the other hand, is a blessing from the refreshment gods. And yes, it does taste just like regular Dr. Pepper.

To continue the earlier theme of self-education, I direct my audience to Wikipedia. In particular, the Wikipedia entry on Dr. Pepper. What is this wiki-thing? A collaborative encyclopedia where anyone can edit any entry. Every day there's a daily article, so if you check it out, you'll learn something totally new every day.

Smart IS fashionable

While Gucci sunglasses and a Birkin bag may get you pretty far, it's what's inside that will make the difference between you and the next gal. Or you and the next dude, if that's who you are. In that case, nix the bag.

Anyway, where is this going? You need to stay informed, or you'll have nothing to talk about at parties. Boring is the kiss of death. How do I suggest you do it? Well, first and foremost, read the New York Times Week in Review section on Saturdays. And if you can't muster the will to drag yourself out of bed and find a $5 newspaper on a Sunday morning, at least read Frank Rich's weekly column on the web.

Other good resources to make you sound smarter because you actually ARE smarter include: The Nation,, and The Washington Post online.

I am having a bad day at work

And when one has a bad day, thoughts turn to the dark side of the force and to revenge, and then you go on typing or making phone calls (as the case may be) and bury your wrath until happy hour.

At least that's what I do.

But here's a better option. One that I've dreamed about inflicting on several ex-boyfriends who actually deserved it.

Dog poop. The breakfast of champions.

Wedding bell blues...

Okay, so this weekend both my friend Chad and my co-worker Vandana got engaged, and being the swingin' single gal that I am, I'm here to tell the world that everybody deserves diamonds.

Now, I'm completely ignoring the diamond-driven civil wars that have ravaged parts of Africa, and the overall business ethics of some of the industry's players, but these things are just precious.

The right hand ring! The thing that makes me think it's going to be okay. The diamond for ladies who either already engagement rings, or who don't plan on getting them any time soon. I love these things. They've got the art deco sensibility of some of the best old-school Manhattan hotels, but you don't have to sell your soul to anybody. I totally plan on getting myself one for my 30th birthday (whether or not I'm attached)!

That's what I spent this morning's marketing meeting thinking about. Diamonds. Romance. And why the heck don't I just promise to love myself. Like that episode of Sex in the City where Carrie loses her Manolo Blahnik shoes and her married friend tells her to get over it, so she registers for them. Her friend realizes that she's been "relationship-ist", and gets her the shoes.

Love yourself kids.

Monday, June 20, 2005

Breakfast at sea.  Posted by Hello

Where the recipes are...

For anyone out there who hasn't been to the wonderful, fabulous,, go there immediately. The site compiles the recipes from both Bon Appetit and Gourmet magazines.

However, it is not for the faint of heart. Beware that you will be face-to-face with recipes for such amazing delights as pork and polenta lasagna, tiramisu, scalllops provencale and more things to do with apricots than you knew existed.

I tried to put up a picture of some lovely beef tenderloin with hand-cut fries, but I haven't figured out picture posting yet. Never fear though. I shall!

To follow through on the promise of tasty food pics, here's a shot of breakfast aboard a blue cruise last year off the coast of Turkey. Me and 13 other hapless travellers found themselves aboard a magnificient ship, about to sink under the weight of the tasty victuals aboard, and each day wound up being more delightful than the last.

Welcome to Eats and!

I'm starting this blog to get a job freelancing for Microsoft. I just wrote a series on blogging and IT, focusing on Microsoft, so chances are if they hire me, I'm going to have to quit my day job and say a little prayer... It's been a while since I relied on my income from chick folk singing.

The ad said that they were looking to hire folks in five areas: sports, technology, music, television and food/fashion/style. I'm the style-master! And quite the chef, if I do say so myself. So, how could they pick anyone else?

What did the duck say when it walked into the bar?