Archive for May, 2006

Calling Out to You Song of the Day Groupies

May 31, 2006


If you are into 3Bulls Song of the Day gig, then you have to visit Lance Mannion’s post on the Top 50 Conservative Songs.  He puts to rest AG’s concerns with those “musicians” The Beach Boys.  Especially that sad sack, Brian Wilson.


Krispy Kreme Giveaway

May 31, 2006


It’s always about the food here at RoD:

Krispy Kreme’s National Doughnut Day Celebration June 2


Stop by your local Krispy Kreme on Friday, June 2nd for a free doughnut of your choice.

1. Treat yourself on the sweetest day of the year! Friday, June 2nd is National Doughnut Day! Stop by your local participating Krispy Kreme and get a free Krispy Kreme doughnut of your choice!

Between summer vacations, camp, air conditioning and backyard BBQs, summer can take a toll on your bank account. The good news is that there doesn’t have to be a drought in your wallet just because the weather is getting hotter.

“Dough”-not-required opportunities abound during the first month of summer — providing proof that the best things in life are still free. Kick off these “Top Ten Free Things To Do In June” with a free Krispy Kreme doughnut of your choice at participating Krispy Kreme retail stores on Friday, June 2 in honor of National Doughnut Day.

A New Kind of Marketing

May 31, 2006 reported this story today about Joe DiPesa and how he markets his company.

After reading that, one should be able to answer whether Joe DiPesa is:

A.  Gay and doesn’t know it yet. (Not that there is anything wrong with that.)

B.  Freak of Nature

C.  Really is Sean S., the cobag.

D.  All of the above

Broadway Across America

May 31, 2006

Broadway Across America at first glance seems like a stellar organization.  If you love the theatre like UC and AG do, you might be cajoled into becoming a season ticket holder.  Who doesn’t love some great shows at a reduced cost, right? It’s a good thing though, AG reads the fine print. 

On a flyer handed out this past weekend at one of their sponsored events the membership promotional material read, “Broadway Across America provides entertainment to affluent and highly educated audiences.” Apparently, unlike wonderful organizations like Arts Boston,  a non profit discount theatre ticket program, only the well educated elite should attend any Broadway Across America events.

You are encouraged to follow in AG’s footsteps by writing sponsors of the program, such as Jet Blue, Hilton Hotels and Lexus to let them know that you, nor should they, do not support the elitist agenda that this organization wishes to pursue.  Unlike what the cobags in Washington try to tell you, art and culture is still for all people across America.  Programs sponsored by the New York City and Boston Ballet that promote dance instruction and attendance at shows for inner city children are appreciated.  Perhaps a little less sponsorship for Broadway Across the Rich and a little more establishing relationships that encourage children to be supporters of the arts for life will prove more effective.  Broadway Across America and Ticketmaster, the evil of the music world, need a serious take down.  A letter writing campaign can give them what they need.   At the very least, call them a cobag to their faces.

1,500 more sent to death…

May 30, 2006

Media reported today that 1,500 reserve troops are going to Iraq.  Great.  When will those little chicken hawks Jenna and Babs be on the planes? If Dum Dum wants to continue an unjust war, that’s fine.  He can pay for it with his own money and family.  AG, the taxpayer and his biggest funder, is out of this one.  Done.  Finished.  The bank is closed.




May 29, 2006

AG worked today.  AG’s adminstrative assistant, Chatty Cathy worked today as well.  AG was good to Cathy and let her go on and on about the same stuff we’ve all heard about 200 times before.  It was early and AG wasn’t awake enough to know to hide in her office with the door and shades drawn. Somehow we got to talking about Canada.  As AG said something, Chatty turns to AG and uttered, “I thought Canada was part of the United States.  People always say that.  You mean, it’s not?”

This is proof that there are people who shop at Wal-Mart, vote for Bushtard and are part of the geography impaired high school GED work force.  It’s great to live in a super power nation with such intelligence.



May 28, 2006


So, it was a theatre, movie and dining out Boston weekend:

Island of Slaves **1/2

Craigie Street Bistrot ** (Two hours for dinner!  Hell-ooo, some of us had to work on Friday).

Friends with Money ***

Wings Kitchen ***

Movin’ Out ***1/2 (Man, Tharp saved Billy’s sorry ass).

Trader Joe’s Pancakes

Keeping up with the Steins **1/2

Legal Sea Food **1/2 (Mainly because of cute, attentive waiter).

P.S. AG abhors people who wear shorts and sneakers to the theatre.

P.P.S. Gregor Samsa, you suck!  You only stop by this blog when Res posts.

{against nausea}

May 27, 2006

It’s been a pretty barfy week, Dear Reader. Between Laura Blumenfeld’s embarassing ejaculation of Republican monkey porn all over the pages of the Washington Post, the latest installment of Greg Easterbrook’s performance as the village idiot Mr. Science at Slate, and both the New York Times and the Washington Post desperately flogging their fevered little semi-erections in public over the now-decade-old non-story of Bill and Hillary Clinton’s intact marriage — well, I’ve pretty much been projectile vomiting all day long.

We’re all going to need our strength in the coming weeks and months, however, and I for one can’t maintain my girlish figure on dry heaves and crackers. In an effort to inspire both your appetite and mine, I therefore present the fruit of this afternoon’s labor: my dinner menu for the next two weeks! Behold, the mighty foundations of this coming Tuesday’s grocery list!

Roasted chicken breasts
Orange & avacado salsa
Roasted asparagus

Pozole with pork
Flour Tortillas

Artichoke & parmesan crostini
Pepper-crusted filet mignon
Red wine sauce
Creamy spinach
Slow-roasted tomatoes
Bittersweet chocolate mousse

Enchiladas verdes de pollo
Spanish rice
Tortilla chips

Dinner at Mom & Dad’s

Mozzarella & ham panini
Green salad

Rigatoni with marinara sauce and ricotta
Grilled italian sausages
Grilled red onions

Baked macaroni & cheese with ham
Green salad
Apple crisp

Ancho chili-crusted flank steak
Mango salsa
Roasted corn on the cob w. chili-lime butter

Spaghetti carbonara
Tomato & basil salad

Lasagna bolognese
Arugula & baby spinach salad
Garlic bread

Dinner at Mom & Dad’s

Crispy Apricot Pork Chops
Broccoli sauteed with balsamic vinager, orange juice and pepper flakes

Coconut Shrimp
Papaya salsa

Chicken thighs & mushrooms braised in white wine with thyme and lemon
Sugar snap peas sauteed in butter with ginger
Strawberry tart

{new friends!}

May 26, 2006

Go check out our newest blogrollee, The Brutal Truth.  I first came across TBT on ARAVOSISblog, where his post entitled “Bourgeois Pig” is listed under the “Nothing But a Bunch of Big Girls” blogroll-of-the-damned.  I trust everyone understands that I will pretty much link on anything that says “Bourgeois Pig”?  In that post, he replies to John Aravosis’ request that everyone doesn’t agree with him about everything just go away because we’re distressing the orchids and upsetting his cats and don’t we know he’s fucking important, already??!? with the following:

Blow it out your Georgetown ass! Nobody tells me what website or blog I can visit. Not the NSA, not Charter, not AT&T, not Verizon, not Comcast, not Sen. Shithead, not Rep. Bonehead, not President Lunkhead, and most certainly of all not YOU, you shirt-shilling fuckhead. Last time I checked, you haven’t come over here to TBT, busted out with your goddamned bankcard, clicked the Pay-Pal link under my picture, and greased my wheels.

At that moment, Dear Reader, I decided that the author of TBT is my new best friend!  I want him to hang out with me and talk like that to people I hate, while die of laughter!  I actually blew a carbonated beverage out of my nose when I read “you shirt-shilling fuckhead”, and that sort of hurt.  Anyway, I started poking around, and he’s running a really neat blog with some substantial writing (which is more than you can say for this dump, really).  So go check him out, and tell him Res Publica sent you.

Enjoy the long weekend, loyal subjects, and try not to fuck up Blue Girl’s house too much at the party.

{sauce me up, baby!}

May 25, 2006

Did anyone see Iron Chef America this week?  With Iron Chef Mario Batali taking on challenger Ludovic Lefebvre?

First, I must confess to having said some fairly unkind things about Chef Batali in the past.  Something about being a “sweaty sack of dough” or some such unpleasantness.  But no matter!  I am here today to tell you that Chef Batali has become not only my favorite of the American Iron Chefs (that’s easy when you’re in a group that includes that horrible little cave-gnome Bobby Flay and world-renowned sushi-whore Masaharu Morimoto), but more generally one of my favorite food authorities.

Batali’s reasonably restrained and understated approach  is easily overlooked in a contemporary food scene marked by extreme (if not ridiculous) innovation and technical sophistication more at home in the laboratory than in the kitchen.  That’s unfortunate, because if you overlook Batali, you’d miss out on one critical fact:  Mario Batali knows food.  He knows food in a deep and contextual way that very few people do.  He knows food like lovers know each other’s bodies.  You can see this kind of detailed, attentive, passionate understanding of food on display in an article entitled “Mario’s Excellent Adventure: Five Days in Bologna, 62 Courses” in the April issue of Gourmet magazine.*  Really, though, you can see it in his cooking on Iron Chef.  Eschew the flash of the challenger.  Mario will lead you on the true path.

He stuck to that path in this week’s Battle: Tuna, and the contrast between his deep mastry and the flashier constructions in vogue among many chefs today could not have been more clear.

The challenger was smolderingly naughty-looking frenchman Ludovic Levebvre, lately of L’Orangerie and now at Bastide:

This is a man who, to be perfectly frank, is welcome to sex me up in whatever way he sees fit, wherever he so desires and at a time or times of his choosing.  The two chefs who assisted him on Iron Chef are more than welcome to join in the extremely hot man-on-man-on-man-on-man-on-Res-Publica action.

That said, I will say that most of poor Ludo’s dishes turned out pretty crappy.  Some of them were, like, unpleasantly hard to chew.  That’s the sort of basic party-foul you don’t really expect from a famous chef, especially one with such a rakish grin and those delicious bedroom eyes and…sorry, what was I saying?  Anyway.  He was clearly severely taxed by the 1-hour format, but even putting aside the artificial constraints of the show’s structure, his food seemed long on ideas and short on execution.  It was conceptually intriguing.  Maybe even provocative.  You certainly won’t be getting any tuna served with white chocolate puree and roasted black olives at Chez Res Publica, but who knows?  It might be brilliant.

Unfortunately, some of his other clever ideas were pretty painfully weak in the execution department.  Perhaps, Dear Reader, there is a way to transmogrify the flesh of the happless tuna fish into light, crispy wafers.  I don’t know what that way might be, but I could have told Ludo in advance that pounding toro into thin sheets and deep-frying them isn’t it.  that’s a recipe for tuna leather, and you’re probably not surprised to hear that the judges didn’t ask for seconds.

This post has evolved into a review of sorts, but I originally sat down to clarify two points:

1.  Mario Batali rocks, and I was a cobag to mock his sweaty corpulence, and

2. Ludo Lefebvre can stick it in.  Your tuna chips sucked it, Ludo, but there’s always a place for you in our hearts (and beds!) here at the Republic.
* I have subscribed to Gourmet since the 80’s, and I am sorry to say that it has grown increasingly craptacular under initially-hopeful but increasingly-ridiculous editorial leadership of Ruth Reichl.