Hill Rat

Thursday, January 29, 2009

On Blast: Hill Rat's "On Blast"

A weak concept coupled with poor execution equals lameness.

As I stated at the outset, this idea for a weekly "column" was an experiment and one that I'm not sure I'm going to continue. Limiting myself to spewing bile only once a week hasn't worked out the way I thought it would. I'm not that great at jotting down an idea and saving it for later so, even though I've had some good ideas for this column, by the time I get around to sitting down to write those great ideas have often left my brain. I'm also not digging the idea that I need to sit down and find something to be pissed off about every Thursday. I spend enough of my life annoyed as it is, I don't need to dedicate a day to it every week.

Saturday, January 24, 2009

More on Ludlow-Taylor

After my last blog post on Ludlow-Taylor ES I had a commenter say: "You've been hood-winked at a dog-and-pony-show. The school was/is in a panic over this blog."

Aww, you're making me blush. I have to admit, the idea that I've got them scrambling over at Ludlow-Taylor is a huge boost to my ego but I'm not sure that's the case. I'm a skeptic and cynic by nature and, given the short time lag between the two events, I have a hard time believing that the open house last week was in any way related to my blog post about LTES. Maybe knowing that someone out there was paying attention made the folks at LTES up the level of spit & polish (handouts were on colored paper and snacks were served) on the evening, but I doubt they went out and compiled achievement stats just for my benefit.

Sporting Debut

It's Saturday morning, BabyRat is having her second piece of fruit, the Backyardigans are on the TV, WifeRat is making oatmeal, and in two and a half hours my daughter will participate in her first (kind of) organized sporting event.

Earlier this week I signed BabyRat up for soccer. After getting a new rugby ball and calendar of the U.S. Women's Rugby 7's team last week, BR was all hyped up to play rugby. I had to explain to her that there was no rugby for kids her age (6 is the cutoff) in this area and asked if she wanted to play soccer. I got a very enthusiastic positive response from BR and so the next day I signed her up online.

I think I'm just as excited as she is.

Thursday, January 22, 2009

Ludlow_Taylor Revisited

I have to say, I wasn't expecting much from this open house at Ludlow-Taylor Elementary School last night. I'm already on record with a strong opinion of both the school and its principal. I got a link to that post from DCist that spiked my hits up to an all time high of 125 in one day! I found that out through the magic of Google Analytics.

I was definitely much less than complimentary in my post and I stand by what I wrote. However as I continue to write about my experiences with finding a public school for my child I find that I'm, thinking of myself and, acting as a citizen-journalist. Which leads me to wonder if claiming that title for myself obligates me in any way? I believe that it does, so here's what I owe you: the truth.

The truth is that I'm not a journalist, I've never taken a journalism class, or wrote for the school newspaper or anything like it. I have no idea what the basic tenets of journalism are supposed to be, I know there's some bullshit myth about objectivity but I can't even pretend I'm giving an unbiased view. Nevertheless, here I am gathering intel and disseminating it to all who care to look.

I'm a Dad who's trying to ensure that his child gets the best education possible, I want everything and then some for my kid. If I don't have to spend $25K every year on tuition for a three year old then our family is free do things like give more to charity, travel, and save for college . . . when I expected to have to pay for school.

But my stake in this is not just financial, it's about what kind of world do I want to leave for my child? Not to get too dramatic, but the decision to forgo public school for the time being was one that I made with great sadness. I always went to public schools (including both colleges, state schools) and I take some pride in the fact that I represent public schools well. MommaRat is a proud graduate of DCPS and I hoped that her namesake (BabyRat and MommaRat share a middle name) would be the same. I know far too many brilliant, educated, accomplished people who went to DCPS, and just as many stunningly average folks who went to "elite" private schools, to believe that there is no value to be found in a DCPS education.

I believe in public schools and want to do what I can to ensure that they remain a viable and venerated part of American life. I'm grateful that I have options, but it doesn't change the fact that I know I'm part of the problem with public education because rather than staying and fighting I'm just throwing money at the problem to make it go away for me and my family. It's not that I'm not willing to work towards better public schools, but for right now (the next 8-9 months) this isn't a fight worth having. I've decided that discretion is the better part of valor and retreated to a Montessori school while we continue to gather information, prepare for the school lotteries for the 2009-2010 school year, and reload for the next battle in the war to educate my child.

So with all that said, my prejudices and motivations laid bare for all to see, I continue my story.

Word 'round the campfire was that Principal Cobbs wasn't really into doing a, "dog and pony show" at this open house. Which makes what happened all the more surprising. I arrived at the evening open house about 15 minutes after it started due to hellacious crosstown traffic on my way home. There were only about a half dozen other parents there, the two men that were there introduced themselves and we started not too long after that. Some of the other people there seemed to know each other (I recognized several members of the group Friends of Ludlow-Tayor) and I sat down at a table by myself when the presentation began.

Principal Cobbs started by going around the room and having each person there introduce themselves. I was surprised that she remembered my daughter's name when my turn to speak came. Ms. Cobbs launched into a detailed introduction of herself, talking about her background in education, her family, and the fact that she recently lost her father.

As someone who also recently lost his own father, my heart immediately went out to her and I began to wonder if I had rushed to a hasty misjudgment. I've been lucky enough to be able to keep my bad days and grief-stricken moments out of public view, but the principal of an elementary school isn't necessarily that lucky. Perhaps when Swiss Family Rat bum rushed LTES the day Christmas vacation ended, she was at the beginning of a bad day.

When she first got up in front of the group Principal Cobbs was hesitant and used a lot of verbal pauses when she spoke. But as she continued to speak, Principal Cobbs got more comfortable and started speaking with more poise and taking command of the room as she spoke about the professional development room that we were sitting in.

The difference between the seemingly indifferent administrative drone I met three weeks ago and the enthusiastic, dynamic educator presenting an optimistic and challenging vision for LTES couldn't have been more stunning to me. Moving smoothly through a PowerPoint presentation Principal Cobbs was charming and friendly while she laid out her educational philosophy.

LTES is only at about 50% of the capacity of the building, so there is a constant drive to improve enrollment numbers. The previous principal of LTES, Dr. Presswood, had a Phd in Special Education so he had increased the number of special education students to keep numbers up. Now it seems that Chancellor Rhee and Principal Cobbs have decided to move their focus away from special education and are concentrating on attracting more families in the neighborhood. During this time Principal Cobbs spoke with a rarely heard candor about the demographic makeup of the school and the issue of diversity.

While all this was going on I started looking through the materials that were laid out around the room. There were teacher bios, feedback forms, daily schedule breakdowns, detailed information on the 3-4 classroom and after school program, and e-mail addresses for the principal and the 3-4 classroom teacher. This was exactly the information that we had been looking for a month ago before we got back to DC!!

Now I'm totally fucking confused. On one hand I'm pleased to see that LTES isn't the black hole of confusion and apathy that it appeared to be during our initial interactions. OTOH I'm annoyed that basically everything I was previously asking for was obviously available in electronic form and could have easily been sent to me via e-mail in, literally, one minute. I don't know who's fault that is, but it's easily fixed; put all these docs in a zip file and as soon as a parent calls up, get their e-mail address, send them the file, and follow up with them via e-mail a week later. If the person doesn't have e-mail access take their address and send them hard copies. Is that so hard?

By now Principal Cobbs has made it through her initial spiel telling us about the tour of the school that's to come and yields the floor to the after school care coordinator and dashes out of the room to go deal with a lost kid. I was pleased to learn that there is a dedicated after school care teacher who hasn't been teaching all day. Ms. Harte (after school care coordinator) was energetic and said all the right things about not wanting after school care to just be babysitting. It was right in the middle of her presentation that I had to leave to go get BabyRat from her after care program.

The strong showing by Principal Cobbs and her staff at the little slice of the open house that I attended has confused the issue of where should BabyRat go to school more than ever. The school lotteries and shit start in like another week, so check back and I'll keep you posted on what I'm doing and where you may be able to find information you may need.

Monday, January 19, 2009

MLK/Inaugural Excitement In My Hood

I spent large portions of Saturday and Sunday with my Mom, doing stuff that my late Father would have otherwise been doing. Assembling bed frames, driving her to the commissary, and hauling stuff to and from the storage area in their (her?) building. Saturday I took BabyRat with me to Mom's condo in Alexandria and gave WifeRat a much needed few hours at home alone and yesterday I went by myself. During all this driving around I was stunned to notice that traffic wasn't nearly as bad as usual. Even coming home over the 14th St. Bridge at about 1600hrs yesterday with the 14th St. and Maine Ave exits closed, the only reason there was a slight backup was the usual problem of idiots not knowing how to drive and getting into a fender bender. We have to go back to Mom's again today for dinner again tonight but, based on the last two days, I'm confident that we won't have any major problems driving in or out.

Because I've been busy with Mom, I haven't gone to any inauguration events. WifeRat somehow didn't know about the concert at the Lincoln Memorial yesterday and I had no interest in going. As it turns out the inauguration came to us this morning.

On our way to Sidamo this morning, we saw some cops blocking off a section of F St. NE between 10th and 11th streets. When we asked the DCPD officer what was up she told us that there was "a situation" and we should go about our business. I thought her answer was a little strange because there was a big ass satellite truck parked right behind the Sasha Bruce Center, but we went about our business. On our way home we found out what the "situation" was: President-elect Obama was doing some volunteer work at the SBY Shelter. We stood around for about five minutes before Obama came out and the crowd of about 200 people broke into chants of "Yes we can, yes we can."

Thursday, January 15, 2009

On Blast: Dog Owners Who Don't Clean Up

What kind of selfish, inconsiderate human being would leave their dog's shit around for you to step in? A big part of the reason I don't have a dog is that I don't want to deal with dog shit; cleaning it up, throwing it away, or even thinking about it.

As you may already suspect, this post is about one specific dog owner. It's a guy that lives in my building who owns a 130+ pound Rottweiler, this dog eats large amounts of food and takes large dumps all over the decent sized back yard of our building. This dog owner, along with his wife, swear that they clean up all of their dog's shit and that any dog shit I see in the yard must have been left by some other dog owner.

Now this claim of theirs isn't entirely without merit. We have a yard that's five yards deep and runs the length of the building (which is about thirty yards long) and is fenced in along the back side. Over the years I've definitely caught some people running their dogs in our yard and one morning a few years back some asshole's dog jumped up on me with muddy paws onto a clean white shirt when I was leaving for work one day. Which means that it's not entirely implausible that at least some of the errant dog shit in my yard comes from some other inconsiderate dickhead's dog. Problem is that a 130+ pound dog takes uniquely huge dumps and most of the "unclaimed freight" in our yard is of the large variety. So unless a half dozen different Rottweiler owners are letting their dogs poop in my yard, I feel pretty safe saying this sloppy moron (and his equally dopey old lady) is falling down on the job.

His sloth and immaturity comes at the expense of everyone else in our building who can't use their back yard because it's a dog shit mine field. Yeah sure sometimes this lazy douche will thoroughly clean the yard before a Summer holiday weekend, but only because he doesn't wanna step in his dog's crap either. We have a unique situation that, aside from individuals in the building constantly hassling this creep, renders us unable to effectively sanction this guy short of going thermonuclear and throwing him out of the building. That may well happen anyway, but not because of the dog shit but because this guys handles everything like he handles his dog: poorly.

Type rest of the post here

Ludlow-Taylor Open House, 1/21/2009, 9:00 am

Title: Ludlow-Taylor Open House

Date: Wednesday January 21, 2009

Time: 9:00 am - 11:00 am

Location: Ludlow-Taylor

Notes: Meet Ludlow-Taylor teachers and staff, see school facilities
(like the renovated library), visit classrooms, and learn more about Ludlow-Taylor's programs. Come hear about the good things already underway and the school's plans for the future.

The school will also be open for prospective parents from 4:30 - 6:00 on the 21st.

Monday, January 12, 2009

Well Dressed Burrito

All last week I was getting the royal treatment with WifeRat and BabyRat chauffeuring me back and forth to work each day. Today WifeRat is back at work, BabyRat started at a new school, and I went back to being one of those people who live and work in the city but drives anyway. It's not really my fault though, I had to drop off the palette of supplies (two changes of clothing, backpack, bedroll, etc.) you have to have for a three year-old starting at a new school and drop off time at this new place is later too.

Even with all of that, the real reason I drive is that I get reimbursed for my parking by Death Star, Inc. It's a very minor perq (really the only one that I get) but it does allow me to easily jet out to handle errands at lunch and indulge my passion for treating myself to great lunches. Lunch time during the work day is one of the few moments where I actually get to seriously consider what it is I want to do. Sometimes I "have to" go eat with my boss or co-workers but more often than not, I get do what I wanna do for lunch.

So today I took the opportunity to go to "The Well Dressed Burrito." A lot has been written about the place, but I had to go see for myself what the hub-bub was about.

Not having any meaningful connection to Mexican or Tex-Mex food past in-laws that live in Houston, I don't have any strong feelings about burritos (or tacos) or what they should or should not include. I have heard foodie types decry the blasphemy of Taco Bell tacos, calling them inauthentic and anglicized. I happen to love Taco Bell tacos, they're what I think of when some one says "taco"; hard shell, ground beef, cheese, and lettuce. So if you're some sort of burrito purist you should probably stop reading now. My requirements for Mexican or Tex-Mex are simple; flavorful ingredients and a bit of spice, a pretty low hurdle to clear.

Today's special burrito was Chicken Tenders with Cilantro Vinaigrette, Red Onions, Lettuce, Tomato, Cheese and Rice. The vinaigrette provided a nice bit of tang to the proceedings that was complimented by the sweetness of the red onions. The chicken tenders were large and properly cooked, you could easily bite through one without turning your burrito into a sloppy mess. Overall I would say that it was a tasty and unusually flavored burrito, pretty good but nothing that's going to inspire the kind of endless love that I have for places like Deli City or Mangialardo's.

Thursday, January 08, 2009

On Blast: Ludlow-Taylor ES

I'm experimenting with a new, regular column called "On Blast." This will be a weekly rant column published on Thursdays where I go off about some person, place, or thing that has angered me over the last week and put them on blast. Be warned, there will lots of profanity and wishes for the painful and complete annihilation of the object of my ire. The hope is that this will keep the invective out my regular blog posts.

As regular readers of this blog know, since about this time last year WifeRat and I have been trying to figure out where to send BabyRat to school. During this time I have attended various open houses, community meetings, and PTA Meetings in an attempt to find a scholastic home for our daughter.

Rather than apply to a school and potentially take a spot from a student who would be in school for the entire 2008-2009 school year, our search for a school was temporarily placed on hold while we were on our six month trip to the Fargo-Moorhead area. We were lucky enough to find a wonderful Montessori school in Moorhead that BabyRat attended for the six months we were out of town.

Ever mindful of the clusterfuck that is DCPS, rather than calling some sort of central administration office, we started calling Ludlow-Taylor ES (LTES) early in the month of December to get some more information about the 3 year-old program available at the school and to find out exactly what needed to be done to enroll BabyRat. A conservative estimate is that we called the principal of LTES a dozen times over the course of a few weeks and were unable to ever get her on the phone. We tried calling first thing in the morning, at lunch time, and after the school day was over to no avail. We left messages over and over again, we asked the people who did answer the phone when was the best time to call and followed their suggestions but couldn't ever get the elusive Principal Cobbs on the phone.

I have numerous friends who are or were public school teachers in a variety of locales around the country, so I understand that the very nature of an elementary school is that it is a hectic place with a never ending stream of small fires that have to be put out. Every teacher and administrator's focus should be on the students within the school walls, perhaps to the exclusion of all other concerns. But am I expecting too much to think that some time over the course of the month that a principal can find ten minutes to return one of a dozen messages left for them?

I honestly wasn't expecting much and would have been satisfied if Principal Cobbs (or one of her staff members) had simply called back to say that they would prefer that we came in and talked face to face. I could have lived with it if someone from the school directed us to a website or other resource where we could find all the necessary forms and information we needed to enroll BabyRat in DCPS. Instead we got a whole bunch of nothing except for one conversation I had with the Kindergarten Special Ed teacher who gave me a brief outline of what the 3-4 year old class does over the course of the day.

This past Friday we stopped by LTES to see if anyone was around and did find the school's business manager hard at work. When I introduced myself, the business manager immediately recognized my name and informed me that my messages had been getting passed on to Principal Cobbs. The business manager was very helpful and was able to track down and give us copies of all the forms we needed to enroll BabyRat in DCPS.

My first question is, given the enormous administrative overhead of DCPS as a system and the individual school at LTES, why isn't there a standardized enrollment packet for students entering DCPS? All of the forms are actually available online, but the enrollment checklist on the DCPS website makes no mention whatsoever of the School Health Requirement Packet!! The mind boggles at such a ludicrous and obvious oversight.

Now we have all the forms we need to get BabyRat into the potential destroying maw of DCPS. WifeRat diligently spends a couple of hours filling out the forms and pawing through boxes trying to find the necessary records over the weekend. We head to LTES on Monday morning before the school actually opens to students to see if we can finally get an audience with the oft spoken of, never heard from, Principal Cobbs.

Finally, at long last, we are granted an appearance with the Wizard of LTES. Even though I'm a large and loud guy, my basic nature is to avoid confrontation but I'm so incensed about the lack of communication that I immediately ask Principal Cobbs why she never called back. Rather than bothering to introduce herself or apologizing or accepting any kind of responsibility for a missed connection, Principal Cobbs gave me a pallid look and says that she's never heard my name. I know that I can't afford to piss off the Principal (in the first five minutes we meet) at a school my kid is attending, so I have to let the shit go. I move to the business at hand and quickly lay out our situation and ask if we can observe the 3-4 year old classroom.

Observing the 3-4 year old class was the highlight of our visit to LTES. The teacher, Ms. Johnson, was energetic, enthusiastic, and engaged with her students. The kids started off the day with "circle time" (something they also do at Montessori schools) and BabyRat was allowed to participate. Ms. Johnson displayed the kind of poise and kindness that you want to see in an early childhood educator; she was firm and warm, inviting but in control, all at the same time. While we were in the classroom, we had occasion to speak to the Mother of a new student who had pulled her kid out of a charter school in favor of LTES.

Eventually we decided that we had seen enough and left the classroom to talk to the school nurse about what, if any problems, there were with BabyRat's health records. We get the runaround from the nurse about exactly what we have to do before BabyRat can start school (there's s dental requirements that the school principal has some discretion on) and go back to the office to wait for Principal Cobbs to show up again.

Before I continue, allow me to recount Principal Cobbs' shameful performance in the school cafeteria in leading the Pledge of Allegiance. It was clear to me that the kids (and the teachers) at the school have little respect or affection for Principal Cobbs. Back in the day (yes, I'm old timing now) when we had our weekly assembly or whatever and the principal stepped in front of the assembled masses, we shut the fuck up without being told. If there ever was a need for the principal to do something to get our attention, not much more than a simple clearing of the throat was needed to render the room silent. Principal Cobbs seemed unable to command even a modicum of order in the cafeteria and simply relied on the PA system to overwhelm the noise in the room while she cajoled a couple of older kids into leading a, not even, half-hearted recitation of the Pledge of Allegiance.

While I was waiting around for Principal Cobbs, BabyRat was in the gym with the class we had just been observing. During that time she had to go to the bathroom and WifeRat reported that they were UNSAT. You would think that after the school had been closed for the last two weeks that the bathrooms would be, if not clean, at least not gross. Realizing that Principal Cobbs wasn't showing up any time soon, we finally left the school. As soon as we were out the door WifeRat told me that she didn't want to send BabyRat to LTES and I agreed.

It wasn't any one thing that was wrong that was a deal breaker, but it was a death by a thousand cuts kind of thing. The accumulation of minor issues demonstrated a lack of attention to detail and a failure of leadership that I attribute to Principal Cobbs. I could go on, but anything I say now would just be gratuitous 'cause you get the point.

Friday, January 02, 2009

We're Back

Ugh! 1500 miles pulling a trailer is no joke, and the real dagger is that it's sandwiched with loading and unloading said trailer. Still it was a pretty mellow trip back across the country. On the way out to Fargo we took four days to drive out and we did the drive back, along a slightly longer route so we could avoid Chicago and its traffic, in three days with your faithful narrator under the wheel the entire time. The only thing really noteworthy about the trip back was that both nights there was a problem at the hotel.

The first night we stayed at a newly renovated Marriott in Cedar Rapids. When I got to the hotel at 9pm I was pleased; the staff was nice and the pool was open until 11pm. The pool being open late is key because you have to do something to wear out a three year-old that's been sitting in the car and watching "The Bee Movie" all day. I was much less pleased when I turned down the bed to lotion up BabyRat after her bath and there were visible stains on the sheets. Blarrrgh!

Needless to say we changed rooms, but nasty sheets is a violation of the basic agreement between innkeeper and traveler. You expect that shit at an hourly motel off of Rt. 1 somewhere, but not at a Marriott in Iowa. Having seen BigDaddyRat issue verbal beatdowns to hotel desk staffs around the globe, I knew that I would get something if I went down and complained but I wasn't sure what. After consuming a large room service breakfast I went to the front desk and laid out the scenario, they gave many profuse apologies and offered to buy our breakfast. Not being a greedy skinflint, I didn't push my luck and accepted the offer but later regretted letting them off the hook too easily.

The next night we stayed in the thriving metropolis of Dayton, OH at a Holiday Inn that had allegedly won some sort of "qualitly" award according to the guy I talked to on the phone. When I made the reservation I was pretty clear that I wanted to stay at a nice hotel and I was assured that it was. Call me crazy, but when I say a "nice hotel" I think that implies that it's not located next door to a strip club like the one our reservation was at in Dayton. But by the time we get there it's already after 8pm and I don't feel like driving around Dayton looking for a better hotel so we stayed. After BR went to sleep we tried to watch TV but the it wouldn't turn on and they also totally fucked up our breakfast order.

After eating a throughly unsatifying meal, I strolled over to the front desk at check out time and registered my complaints. Fresh off of having punked myself the day before I was determined to cut a better deal for myself this go 'round. So this time I graciously accepted their offer to buy our breakfast, but I continued to press the issue and got 50% off of our room for the night.

Another day on the road and naturally we made it back to Metro DC just in time to get stuck on the fucking Beltway at rush hour trying to get over the Legion Bridge. I spent more time stuck in traffic trying to cross the Legion bridge that day than I did the entire time I was in Fargo, no joke.

Once we made it back to the safe confines of the Rat's Nest on Capitol Hill I soothed myself (and the family) with an application of ribs, chicken, and collards from Kenny's Smoke House. Deliciousness shoots and scores!!

Over the next few days I bamboozled a couple of my teammates into helping me unload our trailer (thanks again Skip and Coach) and mostly concentrated on stuffing myself with as much of DC's local flavor as my stomach could stand. I've been to Sova, Peregrine, and Sidamo for coffee and we've eaten at Sticky Rice, the new Matchbox, and Taylor (twice) since we've been back home.

I am in love with Taylor. There are precious few places to get good sandwiches (Deli City and Mangialardo's) in DC, but they tend to adhere to that weird DC phenomenon of closing at 3pm. Taylor doesn't do breakfast, but they do stay open until 9pm and they deliver. I doubt I will ever have them deliver because they're only about three blocks from the Rat's Nest, hardly seems worth the $2 charge.

Stay tuned for my next post on the EPIC FAIL of Ludlow-Taylor ES.

Sunday, December 28, 2008

Final Fargo Post

Holy shit have the last five days have been hectic! The craziness started on Christmas Eve.

While we're out here we had a blended family Christmas extravaganza. WifeRat's Father remarried after her Mom passed and his wife; my Mother-in-law and BabyRat's Grandmother, better known as Nanna; has two daughters of her own, one of whom lives right here in town named Shania. We actually see Shania and her family a fair bit, Shania's husband Craig was instrumental in pig cooking that went down at the lake this Summer and Shania's daughter Madison had swimming lessons with BabyRat at the Dragon Swim School while we were here. Nanna also has another daughter, Helen, who lives in Grand Forks with her boyfriend and they made the scene for Christmas Eve as well.

In deference to Craig who is Catholic (Shania is converting to Catholicism and Madison goes to Catholic school too), we all attended Christmas Eve Mass. After Mass it was back to Nanna's for a Christmas Eve appetizer buffet that included enough food to feed triple the number of people that were there. Once everyone had eaten themselves stupid and had a drink or two it was time to open presents.

Now this opening presents on Christmas Eve thing is new to me. I had heard of people who did it, but in the family I was born into all gift opening happened on Christmas Day.

WifeRat had always maintained that my family was ridiculous with presents on Christmas and it's true, the gift giving is excessive. My sister and I have both been working professionals for over ten years, but my folks continuously found ways to lavish insane amounts of gifts on us and years when SisRat and I have been flush we have gone all out too. So imagine my surprise when as Christmas approached, you could hardly walk in the living room of my in-laws house 'cause there were gifts everywhere. Naturally, just like every year at my folk's house, we had a four hour plus Bataan Death March of gift opening that ended after 11pm.

Christmas Day the temperature got up to about 20 degrees which allowed us to finally take advantage of all the snow we've had this month and go sledding at a little park near Nanna's house. Yes, 20 degrees felt positively balmy after a brutal cold snap where the high temperature over about three weeks was 10 degrees Fahrenheit. BabyRat took such a long nap that we had to wake her up so we could go have a Christmas Dinner of prime rib.

While most people were lolling around the house in sweat pants the day after Christmas, playing their new video games or whatever, WifeRat and I were hard at work packing up our apartment so we can head back to DC.

This morning BabyRat and I had a little breakfast date so the Wife could continue packing in peace and then when we got home it was decided that BabyRat and I would go to Dike West for more sledding fun. I love sledding and the conditions were perfect for BabyRat and I to go careening down the hill on our gigantic inner tube. BabyRat also had an epic wipeout when we hit a jump that popped her off the inner tube when we hit the ground and knocked off one of her boots and a sock.

Then things started sucking as I spent a good portion of the rest of the day loading a trailer full of crap. WifeRat worked like a stallion packing and cleaning while I was hauling today. We took a break to go to Paradiso for dinner with the in-laws and Shania & Craig but, after putting BabyRat to bed, it was go time until I finished cleaning the bathrooms and started writing this post.

Tomorrow we hit the road and expect to be back in DC on Tuesday. Sticky Rice here I come!!!!!!!!

Tuesday, December 23, 2008

Can't Stop Talking About . . .

. . . the weather. We're supposed to be heading back to DC on Saturday, so hopefully this will be my last post about the insane weather in Fargo.

This past weekend we had to go up North for an early Christmas with the Aunts and to drop off all the furniture and household goods that we had mooched off of them for our stay here. This meant getting a trailer to haul the shit up there and getting said trailer loaded. Thankfully the Weinercats Pack Captain, Double-D, was good enough to get up at 8am on a Saturday morning to help out his ol' coach with loading up the trailer. For reasons I can't understand WifeRat refused call Double-D by his nickname and insisted I tell her his real name; I had to think long and hard about it because I had only seen it written down once and I had *never* heard anyone call him by his real name.

When Dubs got to the Dilworth crib at 9 it was already snowing and he said they were calling for 3-5 inches on the day. No matter, we had a nice heated garage to pull the RatWagon and trailer into while we were loading up. It took the two of us (actually three, cause BabyRat was taking down couch cushions and such, she's so cute!) about 90 minutes to haul all of our furniture down to the trailer and get it loaded in. After we finished we had a celebratory PBR at 10:30am and I gave Dubs one of my old West Pot PourHouse jerseys and $30 ($10 for some breakfast and $20 for a case beer seemed like a fair amount) for his help.

I back the trailer out of the garage without incident and decide to take a spin around the block to see how the RatWagon and trailer are handling in the snow. I make it about two blocks before I get mildly stuck trying to pull onto the main road through town. Shit, fuck, damn! For the first time in a month I have left the house without a coat or gloves and now I'm stuck in the snow pulling a trailer. I jump out to survey the situation and it wasn't as dire as it felt from the driver's seat, so I get back in and manage power my way out. I make it back home and announce that we're not going anywhere.

While I was gone both my Aunt that we were supposed to go see and my Father-in-law had called and said the roads were too bad to travel on with a trailer. So we hunkered down and prepared to spend another day at home, but lo and behold right after the decision was made to wait until the next day it stopped snowing. Fast forward to about 3pm and we decide that maybe we can make it. Phone calls are made and the final bit of stuff gets packed in the trailer, I go out for another test run and get stuck again. Like I told WifeRat, if we get in wreck or end up in ditch or something fucked up happens no one is going to say, "I can't believe that woman took her husband and family on the road in this shit." No, what's going to be said is, "What kind of man takes his family on the road in this? What a fucking idiot!"

The next day everything was fine and we made it up to Grafton with minimal hassle and made it back yesterday. Again the snow is falling today, it looks like it's tapering off and we got about 3 inches but unlike the last week or so the temperature is actually warm enough (a balmy 15 degrees) that we're going to make an attempt to go sledding when BabyRat gets up from her nap.

I'm also concerned that our spot is going to get blown up when we're trying to leave town this weekend. Looks like there is a chance for snow on Friday night and continuing on until Saturday morning, which would not be good for me and my front-wheel drive "truck."

Silver Moon Supper Club

I know that I've talked a bit of shit about the food in Fargo but I had a great meal tonight at the Silver Moon Supper Club. WifeRat and I had been shut out there a few weeks ago, so we actually made a reservation this go 'round so we could take my in-laws there for dinner.

My in-laws were and are fans of Monte's Downtown in Fargo and apparently know the namesake (as well as the blood, sweat, and tears) of the operation. As it happens in the restaurant business Monte left to open his own place, the Silver Moon. So the second we walked in the door Monte greeted my Mother-in-law warmly with a shout and a hug before he whisked away our coats.

One of the things that I figured out over the years is that I love the art deco and art moderne styles. Our building in DC has some art deco touches that WifeRat incorporated into our renovation and I've always felt like stainless steel appliances had a kind of deco feel to them. Additionally, BigDaddyRat is from Miami and I've always loved the colors and feel of the city, especially South Beach which is art deco out the wazoo.

This fucking restaurant is gorgeous! It is equal parts spacious, elegant, sleek, and stylish with a strong art deco feel to it owing to the tons of brushed steel accents. The dark wood floors are a perfect compliment to (what looked like) lucite covered metal chairs and the many beautiful light fixtures that look like dozens of wine glasses hanging from their stems. The dining room is cradled between two banks of gigantic clam shell booths which serves to highlight the centerpiece of the room, an amazing custom-designed chandelier that the whole restaurant seems to revolve around.

Our 7:30 reservation was for the second seating in one of the clamshell booths, so we weren't surprised when we had to have a drink at the bar while the first table of the night finished up. I'm not much of a oenophile, so I can't really speak to the wine selection but they did have a whole page of different champagne cocktails! Is there anything more festive and holiday like than a champagne cocktail? I think not, and I started off with a classic champagne cocktail that was quite delicious and followed that up with a "French 75" that featured Bombay Gin, lime juice, and sugar and was equally good.

Once we were shown to our table WifeRat took over and ordered a bottle of cabernet for the table. I guess I'm spoiled with the house-made charcuterie of places like Eve, so when a beautifully presented but rather pedestrian assortment of meats (salami? C'mon) and cheeses (brie? You can do better than that) was presented to me I was a bit disappointed. There was some sort of funky, tasty, sweet chicken salad with no mayo kind of thing on the plate as well. WifeRat had the smoked salmon tartar that was pretty serviceable; a nice ring mold of chopped smoked salmon topped with chopped egg and capers.

We were presented with a nice little scoop of cranberry sorbet between courses that was exactly what I needed before took on a massive serving of short ribs served with sweet potato puree, zucchini, and an herb laced bechamel. The short ribs were perfectly cooked, flavorful, and fork tender, but a touch on the dry side. A small flaw that I am willing to overlook when I get two big ass pieces of short rib that made sure my greedy ass was satisfied.

I know I'm being a little picky about the food and there's one person who I blame for that: Cathal Armstrong. I'm lucky enough to be good friends with one of Chef Armstrong's bartenders at Restaurant Eve and consequently I go there rather frequently. The bar food they serve at Eve is better than what they put out for their best meal at 80% of the restaurants in America, so places suffer by comparison when I talk about food.

The trio of chocolate desserts was perfectly sized, three small portions of different chocolate desserts. I like dessert as much as anyone, but after a big meal like that the last thing I want is one of those Texas Cheesecake Depository-sized pieces of cake or something. I need a little something sweet to change the taste in mouth and to go along with my coffee, a few bites and not much more.

With the wonderful food and sophisticated atmosphere at the Silver Moon Supper Club, it's easy to forget you're in Fargo until you get the check. Again, I'm jaded by DC prices in restaurants so I was ecstatic when the bill came. Even compared to other places in Fargo like the HoDo or Monte's, Silver Moon is a pretty good deal.

I'm an easy grader, so I give the place 3 out of 4 stars.

Friday, December 19, 2008

Random Thoughts

Here it is from the mind of Hill Rat; straight, no chaser.

A Cliche That Should Be Nuked Into Oblivion
"Love means never having to say you're sorry." What a dumb crock of shit! When I Googled that phrase I discovered that it was from the execrable movie "Love Story," which means it's associated with Al Gore and thus deserving of even more scorn. I've got no love for the Beatles and if I live to be 100 I will never understand the almost religious reverence some have for John Lennon, but Lennon was 100,000,000% on point when he said that, "Love means having to say you're sorry every fifteen minutes."

Moving Sucks
This observation is based (in part) on a childhood spent moving every two years. Back then the upside to moving was that we got to go out to eat a lot, now it just means that I'm paying to go out more.

After I became an adult and stopped having roommates, I settled in real quick and would probably still be living in the "Fortress of Solitude" (a/k/a; the Fortress or FoS) if I hadn't met WifeRat. For five glorious years I lived by myself in the Fortress and was quite content to stay in one place. This January will mark year five in the Rat's Nest and this move back to DC will be the third time I've moved into the same damn place. There was the initial move in with WifeRat back when she was known as Dr. Girlfriend, then when BabyRat wasn't quite a year old we had to move out during the renovation of the building and move back in 14 months later, and now we're moving back from Fargo-Moorhead. Blargh!

There's also nothing like moving to remind me what a consumerist pig I am. I have clothes that I packed up, moved out here, and never wore; that's fucking ridiculous and even more ridiculous is that I have at least one more box of clothes sitting in storage in DC. It wouldn't be so bad if I were some kind of clothes horse, but aside from my work clothes my wardrobe is mostly made up of rugby shirts, t-shirts from rugby tournaments, and cargo shorts. In retrospect I could have easily made it through the six months out here with the duffel bag I brought, one wardrobe box, and one box of additional clothes. I suck.

Thursday, December 18, 2008

I Am a Bad Person

Mostly because I am a judgmental ass, if you're not doing it my way you're wrong. I do, however, allow for the possibility that two reasonable people can examine the same set of facts and come to two different, yet equally valid, conclusions. If your opinion differs from mine though, it is most likely because you are a mouth-breather who should be neutered and disenfranchised. It is from this personal failing that today's blog post flows because I am getting ready to put an elementary school's Christmas Program on blast.

I fully understand that the purpose of an elementary school Christmas program is not to provide adults with some sort of high quality performance. The purpose is to give kids a chance to showcase what they've learned and how they've advanced with regard to various skills and abilities. I get that, but that does not mean that Christmas programs have carte blanch to suck ass. On Monday Ta-Nehisi Coates told SNL, "Motherfucker, be funny," and I'm telling these kids I saw today "Motherfucker, be cute" or if you can't manage that then at least "Motherfucker, be brief."

I guess my first beef isn't even with the kids or the teachers that put on today's horror show, but rather with the folks who told us to the program started at noon when it actually started at 12:30. So right off the bat WifeRat and I are in a peevish mood about this whole deal. We're going to return furniture and go have an early Christmas celebration up north with the Aunts this weekend, so we have shit that needed to get done today.

Shortly before the program starts I find out that the niece I'm there to see isn't playing in the band, has no speaking part in the play, and only appears in the chorus. Now my niece isn't in the chorus because she's tone deaf or has no dramatic chops, really quite the opposite. Because my niece is appearing in the Fargo-Moorhead Community Theater's production of Miracle on the 34th Street, she wasn't available for the big evening performance and the decision was made to leave her out of the play. Now it seems to me that if you have a kid who has appeared in productions at a renowned performing arts school and obviously has some interest and talent with regard to acting, don't you want to get that kid more involved in your production?

So the band starts playing and they begin to systematically launch a full frontal assault of awfulness on just about every Christmas I've ever known and loved. Eventually I look down at the program and I see that allegedly "Greensleeves/What Child Is This" was played by the band. I'm stunned because at no time did I hear anything that remotely resembled the trademark riff of those songs.

You have to understand, I'm not criticizing these kid's performance nor am I trying to impugn the band teacher's skills. Really I'm a little bit in awe of what an elementary school band teacher does, I've never met one that didn't play at least a half dozen instruments and could perform servicably on most others too. What I am criticizing is the decision to let that shit drag on for almost an hour! For fuck's sake, everyone would have been better off if the band had played half the number of songs and spent twice as much time rehearsing them.

Then after the band played, there were a half dozen songs played on hand chimes before we finally got to the play. The play was truly odd; something about a shepard that can't stay awake who goes to see Baby Jesus and becomes a real estate agent. I don't have anything against religion, I kind of like the idea of religion but the way it ends up being applied is what usually gives me the creeps. What does the birth of Christ have to do with real estate or a dude who sleeps on the job?

You Can't Make This Up

Wednesday, December 17, 2008

Brick & Mortar Shopping

There is no mystery why brick & mortar bookstores are currently fighting for their lives: their selection sucks.

I was given an assignment by WifeRat to pick out books for five young men in our family. The last time we were up north we noticed that the only book in any of the three kids room's was the Bible. Now the Bible's a fine book with some interesting stuff in it, but it really shouldn't be the only book a young person owns. I was a voracious reader as a teenager and so I'm pretty well suited to the task of picking out books for boys ranging from the ages of 10-20.

The youngest of the boys plays hockey, so I thought "This Can't Be Happening at MacDonald Hall" would be a great selection for him. If you want to get a kid into reading, you don't hand him a copy of "War and Peace" and start blathering on about what a great piece of literature it is and whatever the fuck it is (I never read it so I don't know) that's supposed to make it so great. To introduce a 10-12 year old to a life long love of reading, what you do is give him (or her) a book about something they're already interested in and make sure the shit is entertaining. Once you get a kid past the hurdle of reading that first book and making it an enjoyable experience that they want to repeat, then they're hooked. "MacDonald Hall" is short, funny, and features hockey prominently; the proverbial no-brainer.

Unfortunately, not only did Barnes & Noble not have the book in stock; the shit is out of print and they had no way of getting it for me. Strike one!! OK, I can live with that. "MacDonald Hall" was written thirty years ago by a Canadian, so it's understandable how that might not be on the shelves.

The next youngest kid is a sophomore in high school, the perfect age to read Cormier's "The Chocolate War." A great book about alienation and isolation, standing up for yourself and learning about the true cost of taking a stand. These are all themes that young teenager should be exposed to. Too often when we try to explain to young folks about morality or taking a stand, we present it in a vacuum as if the only choice that has to be made is the choice to do the right thing or the wrong thing; that there is no price to be paid for doing the right thing and never anything to be gained from doing the wrong thing. I roll over to the Teens section and find some of Cormier's later work, but not the book I wanted. Strike two!

There is also a senior in high school who is the older brother of the two previous knuckleheads. He's all about becoming a pilot so I thought the James Michener novel "Space," that I read in high school, would be an appropriate choice. Not only is the book about a topic that he's interested in (pilots & space flight), but there are also some salacious bits in there too that he would probably enjoy. I find the half a shelf of Michener they have at the book store and they have about eight to ten of his other novels, but no "Space." Strike three!!

I did a little better with the older boys, the sons of one of WifeRat's other Aunts. The younger of the two of them is out of high school (we'll call him Carl) and working as a diesel mechanic while he tries to figure out what to do with his life. I've got to spend a little time with Carl while I've been up here and he's a nice, respectful, and smart kid with a good heart. My guess is that he probably won't go to college; he's 19 years old and makes like $12/hr, which is a living wage in this part of the country. My goal for him is to make sure that just because he stopped going to school he doesn't let his brain turn to mush. I figure that if I can convince Carl read one book, that book should be "Catcher in the Rye." I'm glad they had "Catcher" in stock because I might have had to blow the place up as unworthy of the title "bookstore" if they didn't have that on the shelves.

Finally there's the oldest of the bunch, he's all into being a business man so I got him "The Handbook of Style: A Man's Guide to Looking Good" by Esquire. A good bit of the stuff in this book I learned from my Father and uncles and the rest I learned from reading Playboy (back when they had articles worth reading) and Esquire. I had the advantage of having an old man who was an Army officer, so he got schooled on all this stuff and passed it down to me and my uncles provided generational updates (they're 7 and 15 years younger than my Dad) to the general principles. Uncle Lars (the two oldest boy's Dad) however, is a fireman and does body work. Lars is a great dude; smart, hard working, dependable, and probably my favorite uncle to throw down a few cocktails with, but he has no use for the finer points of haberdashery. Seriously, if I walked into a body shop and saw someone dressed like this I would leave skid marks out of the place. So I'm trying to help fill the gap in the same way that I hope Lars and Carl will teach my kids how to turn a wrench.

My point (and I do have one) is that 60% of what I wanted wasn't available at the bookstore I went to. I suppose I could have gone to another bookstore, but I doubt I would have fared much better. It's not like I was looking for super obscure books or I'm complaining about the lack of African-American selections in a bookstore in Fargo; I was just looking for regular ol' books and they simply didn't have them on the shelves. It doesn't take but about two or three paperback books to get clear of the $25 threshold for free shipping, no transportation hassles, and you can be done in five minutes. Tell me friends, what's the compelling reason to go to an actual bookstore rather than ordering through Amazon if you already know what you want?

Tuesday, December 16, 2008

I Guess I Needed a Few Days Off

I had posted for something like 50 days in a row but out of town travel, insane weather, and laziness took over for a few days.

Swiss Family Rat had to head back north again last weekend for our third funeral in two weeks. The Aunts were in full effect as usual, cooking and pampering; even going so far as to give WifeRat a two Aunt massage on Friday night.

This funeral was for Great Aunt Mid, the sister of WifeRat's Maternal Grandfather. Mid was the "Master of the Post" (not the Post Mistress because gender has nothing to do with it and the Post office doesn't have a mistress) for thirty plus years in a small town in North Dakota. An interesting and beloved family member, I'll always remember Mid for introducing me to a shot called "Carrot Cake." RIP Mid.

After the funeral on Saturday morning, we changed clothes and fled back to Dilworth ahead of a predicted blizzard. We made it back to town ahead of the storm and I was sent out for provisions that included a few groceries, a suitcase of PBR, and a pizza.

I woke up on Sunday morning to howling winds and swirling snow that made me think of Hoth. This shit was no joke; winds were gusting up to 30mph, snow was flying everywhere, and it was stupid cold. We had actually been talking about going to church the night before, but it was obvious that we weren't going anywhere for a while.

The night before I had told BabyRat that we had gotten a new sled and if we got some snow we would probably go sledding. Naturally that led to this massive inner tube being blown up in the living room that morning and becoming BabyRat's new favorite toy of the moment. She bounced in, over, and around this inner tube non-stop for about an hour after I blew it up constantly asking when we were going sledding.

Finally at about 11am BabyRat and I decided to strap on the Winter gear and head outside to see what a Fargo blizzard was all about. Naturally BabyRat was in her one piece snowsuit in about ten seconds and pulling on her boots asking loudly, "DADDY, ARE YOU READY," while I was still putting on a shirt. We're heading downstairs and when the elevator door opens it smelled like someone had actually been doing bong hits in the elevator. BabyRat is quick to comment, "It stinks in here Daddy! What's that smell?"

We walk through the large communal garage in our building and make it to an outside door. I push the door open and was surprised that it wasn't as cold as I was expecting, but we didn't make it 20 feet from the door before BabyRat was wailing, "DADDY I'M COLD, LET'S GO BACK INSIDE!" So we go back into the garage, but BabyRat hesitates about going back upstairs. We have a little debate and I assure my daughter that she's not going to get frostbite if we walk around the building, because apparently they talk about this subject at her school. A little scarf tightening and we go back outside and after BabyRat flops into a snow drift we walk about 100 yards to one of the side doors of the building to go back inside.

You would think that being stuck in the house for an entire day would facilitate blogging but it didn't work out that way for me. I need to sit uninterrupted for about an hour or so, surfing the web, sending tweets, and responding to e-mail before I'm ready to start writing. Even though BabyRat takes a nap right after lunch and WifeRat is awesome about giving me the time and space I need to write, I just wasn't feeling it after not writing for a couple of days so I didn't force myself to do it.

To my great surprise, school was canceled yesterday despite the fact that the main roads in Moorhead were immaculate (I mean cleared and dry) at 9 am and the roads in Dilworth were pretty good. That meant trying to juggle a workday and a full house with a rambunctious three year old that hadn't been outside in any kind of meaningful way for a day and a half. WifeRat cleared the decks for me to get some work done early in the day and at lunch time BabyRat and I headed over to the in-laws. Thankfully one of their neighbors had already cleared the driveway and all they needed me to do was dig out the front porch.

After lunch and BabyRat's non nap (she played quietly in the bedroom for an hour and a half and refused to sleep), we made meatballs together for last night's dinner. I really enjoy cooking with her, she's such a fun little person to hang out with and be around. Eventually we went over the in-laws to finish making dinner and eat before WifeRat kicked me out of the house to go watch MNF after bedtime.

So here I am at the coffee shop, working and blogging after dropping BabyRat at school.

Thursday, December 11, 2008

More Fiction

I'm taking another whack at the fiction writing. -HR

As Alexis stood underneath the bright lights in front of a mirror she quickly brushed her thick black curls back and gathered them at the back of her head. After a few more swipes with the brush, her hands expertly moved in concert to assemble the hair into a tight ponytail with the assistance of a small elastic band. She checked herself one last time in the mirror as she slipped the brush into her purse and brushed a strand of hair away from her white shirt, perfectly knotted tie, and neatly pressed apron.

The silence of the bathroom was shattered by the boisterous sounds of a restaurant kitchen making last minute preparations for the Thursday evening dinner service as soon as Alexis opened the door and stuffed her purse in the bank of lockers that lined the wall next to the bathroom.

As she made her way through the kitchen she took in the sights, sounds, and smells of 40 different dishes in various states of readiness. Cocky young cooks bumped into each other and gave her wolfish smiles that she returned with a shy wave. Saute' pans sizzled red hot with thick slabs of meat and the air was filled with the aromas of boiling pots of stocks that had been simmering gently for hours and hours and a garden full of chopped herbs.

She poked her head out into the bright dining room and saw that the rest of the front of the house staff was seated and ready for their pre-shift meeting. Alexis stepped back to where Chef was standing, told her everyone was ready, and slipped out to join her co-workers.

When Alexis sat down her friend Kim elbowed her in the ribs and wondered aloud, "If you love the kitchen so much, why don't you go join the heathens in the back of the house and cook?" Alexis gave her a sour look and stuck out her tongue as a reply as Chef strode up to the table and gave her staff a warm smile and asked, "Are there any questions about tonight's menu?"

The assembled waiters, food runners, and bartenders looked down at the index cards in their hands and scanned the evening's selections. A couple of hands went into the air and for the next few minutes Chef patiently and expertly gave a discourse on everything from where the evening's poached lobsters came from to how much longer they could expect they could expect pears to be in season.

Chef's generous nature and lack of histrionics permeated the whole restaurant. There was a low hum of jokes being exchanged and quiet laughs as the meeting broke up and people filtered throughout the restaurant to their various workstations. Chef motioned for Alexis to follow her back to the kitchen and inquired,"Did you try the new appetizer yet?" Alexis shook her head and Chef said, "Go back there and fire one for us," pointing to the line and handing Alexis a chef's jacket.

Alexis stepped up to the massive range and, with speed and skill that never ceased to amaze the cooks, began to sear a hunk of foie gras. She quickly moved around the station gathering plates, garnishes, and sauces. Alternating between being a blur of motion and impatiently looking at the pan waiting for the goose liver to cook. In four minutes she had assembled a beautiful plate that she took with her back to Chef's cramped but meticulously neat office with a couple of forks.

Wednesday, December 10, 2008

Links

The Macho Stimulus Package - Mildly interesting op-ed from the Boston Globe. The argument being made is that Obama's stimulus package is focused on public works construction projects and alternative energy initiatives that will increase job opportunities in fields that are dominated by men with the result being that women are largely left out.

IMHO the author makes a mistake by not following up on the stats that he quotes about the number of families that are supported by women. Calculating the economic impact of a rise or fall in household income for those families would yield a dramatic number that's easily understood.

While the author makes a reasonable point, he fails to consider why Obama may have chosen to take on this particular set of tasks first. I see this as a straight marketing move; building bridges, replacing windows in schools, and building wind farms are projects that are easily understood and quantified. That's in stark contrast to something like raising the wages of home health care workers and providing better care for sick and elderly who depend on them. No doubt the workers and the people they provide care for would benefit, but it's not something that can be shown on a bar chart in a PowerPoint presentation like the number of windows replaced in American school buildings.

Calling All Cars: Trouble at Chuck E. Cheese's, Again - You wouldn't think that Wall Street Journal would be up on the latest happenings at Chuck E. Cheese's, but they are. Mildly funny story on the fact that Chuck E. Cheese's are often the site of throwdowns between groups of drunken adults. It makes me feel all the more cheated that when I had to go to CEC it was a doo-doo location with no bar. Make sure you read all the way to the end and check out the "food fight" graphic.

I love you sweet leaf - Amazing story about a woman who asks a cop if she can smoke during a traffic stop and proceeds to light up a joint!

The "Rick Roll" of 2009? - I post, you decide. I saw this at Coilhouse and I haven't stopped laughing since. Amazingly bad song and video, but at least as funny was the line in Coilhouse's post, "Take it to the hilt, paladin." OMGWTFBBQ indeed.

Shine on me
by mikropikol

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