Oy! Look a' my ass, Hugh!

This is the best. celebrity photo. ever.

You would not believe what I ate for dinner last night...

Continuing the food theme, here are some other things I must eat:

- Cinnamon and creme fraiche gelato from Il Laboratorio del Gelato
- Coconut cream donuts from the Donut Plant
- Chocolate chip cookies from Almondine
- Barbeque pork noodles from Republic
- Roasted free-range chicken from West Bank Cafe
- Anything from Patisserie Claude

I'm consistently amazed at bloggers who always seem have something good to write about. The authors are always going to interesting places or having fantastic thoughts and it leaves me wondering if they have jobs. The most interesting thing I've seen recently was a really fat homeless guy getting his head shaved on the street by another homeless guy.

They've already turned the sprinklers on in the city parks. We had our first really hot day and the kids were out in force, running through the icy water in their underwear. The Mr. Softee trucks are also out, enticing me with their wares. I still haven't had this year's first, mostly because I'm afraid of opening that (particularly delicious) door. I usually go for the vanilla with sprinkles but since I read that the chocolate dipped cones have a cult following, I feel like it's my obligation to try (at least) one. Still, I'm holding off as long as I can. I got hooked last summer and couldn't go more than two days without a fix and that, my friends, is a recipe for disaster, seeing how it's shorts season.

Have any readers had one of the cult cones? What are your summer must-eats?

Ah, yesterday. Hot damn, there are some days I love New York! (Hot damn, there are some days that are hot in New York. How'd we manage to skip an entire season?) Got a call from the Baldman's missus asking if I wanted to meet them at the Daschund Parade in Washington Square Park.

Did I want to meet them at the Dauschund Parade? Do they not know me at all?

So I raced my I-Was-On-My-Way-To-Old-Navy-But-HOT-SWEET-JESUS-THERE'S-A-DASCHUND-PARADE-self downtown. While the Parade was a little underwhelming (no daschund races?!), there's something about being surrounded by a large number of squat, friendly animals that makes the day a bit more awesome.

After that I met up with a dear friend of mine for some chocolate sampling. She'd nosed out a little cafe on the 8th floor of Saks - a store I visit roughly never - and we sat and had chocolate and coffee. (Truffles for her, a chocolate truffle brownie pour moi.) While I still hold firm that the best use of chocolate is Jacques Torres' chocolate chip cookie (if you can manage to get them warm, your life will change), it's hard to complain about a brownie made with truffles.

I AM GOING TO HELL- Reason #82

I'm merely suggesting that perhaps the kid got what he deserved...

I do love him on 30 Rock

Okay, this whole Alec Baldwin voicemail fiasco has me riled. He released his "apology" today and alls I have to say is Dude, please.

My favorite part of the apology was where he said he was "saddened" that the tape was released because of the "damage it does to a child". DUDE, the tape getting leaked doesn't damage your child - calling your child a pig damages a child! His Broadway co-star filed a report against him for harrassment (I believe she eventually quit the show), he punched a wall during rehearsals, he's been in anger management classes numerous times... Kim Basinger may suck as a mom (pics of her lighting her 11-year-old daughter's cigarette for her certainly seem to point in that direction) but nobody's going to let a kid live with a nutjob like that.

Maybe someday Ireland can share a room in rehab with poor Frances Bean Cobain...

Even I would not be able to pee here.

It's all about the potty humor today, folks.

On Monday I had what will officially go down as the weirdest. audition. ever.

"Hello and welcome to the Constipation Learning Channel Info Center, where we examine every aspect of this common, troubling, and even perhaps embarrassing condition."

You envy me, don't you?

I am ready for spring. I am ready for daffodils and cute dresses and sandals and little jackets that you don't really need but look adorable in anyway and sitting in outdoor cafes and buying ice cream from the Mr. Softee truck (Weight Watchers be damned) and beginning my balcony garden and strawberries at the farmers market...

Instead, I get rain. So much rain. Oh man, so much rain. And cold! It's still cold! Seriously, what gives, Nature?

Anyway, all this rain has given me time to mull over the big decisions and... I've decided to buy a new pair of summer shoes. Normally this is not a topic for discussion but I'm feeling a little awkward about this purchase. Now I love me some cute little flimsy sandals, but with my big ol' bunion-y feet I need something comfortable and durable. Something that can handle the New York City streets.

Something, maybe, like Birkenstocks.

I KNOW! I KNOW! Birkenstocks are the start of a very slippery slope! You think you're simply purchasing a comfortable shoe and the next thing you know, you're wearing sweatpants and mom jeans. I DON'T WANT TO WEAR SWEATPANTS AND MOM JEANS! But... are they sort of cute? The new styles? Can they be considered retro-hip? What's the concensus?

I have a bone to pick with Banana Republic.

Everybody knows I loves my BR. We are tight. We are buds. We are practically kin. They provide me with a non-stop sale rack and I help put their CEO's kids through college. It's a solid working relationship.

Not no more.

Because I am a LUXE cardmember (see: "putting their kids through college"), I get invited to various LUXE-only events. In-store previews, first-looks... the usuals. But a few weeks ago I was invited to preview their new summer line. I was about to toss the invite until something sparked my interest: they were promising free cocktails and hors d'oeuvres. Now that alone would've gotten me there. Five years of shilling miniature food left me with an intense desire to experience life on the other side of the silver tray. But free food didn't compare to what I noticed next:

Goodie bags.

Please. That is the trifeca of awesomeness for a grubby little freebie lover. Sure the gift was probably a ball of crap gift rolled in tissue paper but as long as I didn't have to pay for it...

I'm not sure if you heard but I threw my back out last week. Sunday through Thursday was spent cro-magnon style, hunched over like ______ (insert something hunchy here). It was a big ball of suck. But on Friday, suddenly everything relaxed. I could walk! I COULD WALK! Hail the healing power of free crap!

In an effort to take advantage of my renewed independence I decided to forgo the train, electing to walk to the event. 50 blocks later I arrived at the golden gate: the flagship BR store. Needless to say, I was psyched. I'd spent a significant portion of my walk imagining the possible gift options, and while I was fairly certain it wouldn't be amazing ("Grab anything you want! After all, you're a LUXE member!") I wasn't giving up hope.

Then I saw the crowd of angry women.

Remember the invite? The one that was used to determine how many goodie bags to provide? Apparently you were supposed to BRING IT. It didn't matter that our names were on the list - the list we were only able to access because we'd received THE INVITATION - only people who actually brought the damn thing would be given the free gift.

I almost started bawling right there in the store.

So BR and I are done. Finished. I suspect BR will try to win me back with tokens of affection but I've seen its true heart (its lying, reneging heart) and I am through. Do Not Ye Promise Yon Goodie Bag That Ye Cannot Delivereth! That is the message of the day, folks. That is the message of the day.

I bet nobody has back problems in this magic land.

It is now Day Three of "Cripplewatch" here at the McCody house. Not being able to move sounds like a good thing, like some awesome kind of snow day where you'd get to stay home and perfect your manicure while watching "The Hills", right?

Right.

Instead, I almost had to call my husband for help me go to the bathroom because I couldn't manage lift the toilet lid. (FYI, for those who followed the "If it's yellow" discussion, we always keep our toilet lid down. Not only is it good feng shui - and your cats will never drown - it prevents flush-induced microscopic excrement from cross contaminating your toothbrush. And yes, Matt won.)

Until this passes, I won't be writing much because sitting hurts. As does standing. Not to mention laying down. Basically, anything other than nonstop massage is intensely uncomfortable. And you're crazy if you think I haven't hit Matt up for that.

Until I come up with something good to say...

In the interest of full disclosure, I was making my bed.

I threw my damn back out. I've been hobbling around the house all bent over and shuffly for the past two days and I am over it. I can't even get any big blogging done because I can't sit up for more than five minutes. Seriously, it stinks.

Could somebody hand me my teeth and my cane?

Give it up for Feather! Cadillac! And Tom Cruise!

Okay, I've heard a lot about this recently and while it sounded funny, it didn't sound THAT funny.

Well friends, it is THAT FUNNY.

If your computer's like mine, you'll probably have to turn the volume up - which I wouldn't recommend at work, unless your boss doesn't mind listening to a cartoon about an 8-year-old gay boy who wished for a planet full of unicorns.

Call me cold-hearted

I don't care about Britney Spears' divorce, I really don't. That said, the terms of her settlement have come to light and folks, they are staggering. First off, Kevin will be getting $13 million dollars. Now that's a lot of money, but whatever, she's Britney Spears. He will also be receiving $500,000 a month in child support.

$500,000 a month.

Apparently in the pre-nup the sum was originally $250,000 but because she wanted to get married faster, SHE UPPED IT to $500,000.

You know, I was starting to feel bad for the girl. The whole rehab, hair-chopping thing? So sad. But frankly, if you can pay someone half a million dollars a month on TOP of the $13 million you're already giving them and still have enough money for booze, a new mansion (she's apparently house hunting) and awful tattoos, in my book you're doing just fine.

I'm not sure how it works, but it's decidedly awesome.

How cool is this?

Me wantee sun and fun

Okay, what's this about snow this weekend?! SNOW? Awww, c'mon! I am so ready to wear cute things and drink margaritas and complain about the heat! (Which you know I will.) Snow? SNOW?!

I've been thinking about vacations recently; as in, "When do I get to have a mutherfucking vacation?" I was researching some places in the 'hood, places like Nantucket and Martha's Vineyard, but even in the off-season it's around $1500 for the weekend. Even the cheapest places (at least the ones that didn't make me want to vomit antiques and chintz) started at around $250 a night and if I'm paying that kind of money, I'd better be sleeping on a bed of male models.

Has anybody vacayed anywhere interesting and affordable?

Did I just use the term "vacayed"?

Yesterday at the playground...

Little girl, approximately 3 years old, comes running up.

Girl: "HAVE YOU SEEN MY FRIEND CHAD?"

Me: "I don't know. What's he look like?"

Girl: "HE'S GOT A ROUND HEAD AND HE'S WEARING SHOES!"