Friday, April 29, 2011
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Saturday, April 23, 2011
Friday, April 22, 2011
Thursday, April 21, 2011
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
It's up now, over at SFGate...
Monday, April 18, 2011
As a result of this eye-opening meal, last weekend I found myself in the VIP audience of Late Night with David Letterman.
I was visiting my folks in New York, picked the show I could attend and invited the fabulous Brittney Gilbert to join us. We had no idea who the guests were when we got in line, we were simply thrilled to be there.
Although my parents, as they mentioned repeatedly, had been in the Letterman audience before. This was old news to them. They don't need TV station perks. WHATEVER.
Before we got anywhere near our seats in the legendary Ed Sullivan Theater, however, we were subject to repeated reminders to laugh. A very pretty CBS Page stood on a chair and performed a charmingly long camp counselor-esque routine in which is was made clear to use that we laugh or we suck. Personally. As people.
Fine with me! I can laugh! I will be in the same room as David Letterman. I'll bark like a dog if someone asks me to.
VIP people sit in the balcony, which wasn't nearly as exciting to me as sitting down on the main level, but apparently we were all supposed to be in awe of our unobstructed view of Dave. Which I WAS.
At this point, we watched an instructional video hosted by Alec Baldwin who again, told us to laugh BUT NEVER WHOOP. Apparently, whooping is frowned upon.
Lo and behold, the very host of the instructional video was that night's guest.
You heard me.
Alec Baldwin was the guest.
I'm laughing! I'm laughing and clapping at the same time! As instructed! I am just so happy to be here with Alec Baldwin and David Letterman and Paul! There's Paul! Holy shit, it's all so...historically comedically important to me.
I wasn't even bothered by the kid sitting in front of Brittney who was blatantly taking photos even though it could not have been more against the rules. If we were breaking rules, I wanted to hang out in Dave's office and throw pencils at the ceiling.
So at this point, the warm-up comedian and band playing 90's songs and Paul all kind of blend together because I'm just so goddamned in awe of being AT LETTERMAN.
Then Dave comes out. And I lost my shit.
He spoke really briefly, and kind of talked to one person on the main floor, creating an inside joke he tossed out during the show (much to my concern for those of you at home, who will never know about the pre-show moment we shared with THE Dave Letterman.)
But I couldn't even see through my cheeks which were squished up past my eyes because I was smiling so hard. So the show starts and it's all just like it looks on TV only way smaller.
Oddly, I found the commercial breaks the most interesting part of the whole experience. Because I could see the writers, off to the side, scribbling down jokes and notes on little pads of paper and then nervously handing them to Dave and the Executive Producer.
And...and that's just amazing to me. I wanted to be down there scribbling jokes so badly. I had like, 9 jokes in my head.
I stared down onto that stage and looked at those folks writing jokes and... BIG SIGH.
But then (a rather subdued) Alec Baldwin came out. And basically we laughed and clapped at everything anyone said. And my mother, my jaded "I've practically guest-hosted this is so no big deal to me" mother, responds so well to instruction that she danced and clapped along to musical guest, rapper Wiz Khalifa.
I looked over at the woman who wouldn't let me listen to Marky Mark and the Funky Bunch and marveled at her kind of bopping around to Wiz Khalifa performing a song from his album, "Rolling Papers."
"I don't care about Alec Baldwin." whispered my father. "I'm here for Wiz Khalifa."
"Oh really?" I whispered back. "Is this your favorite Wiz song?"
"No. I prefer his older stuff."
And with that it was all over. My big exciting trip to Late Night with David Letterman had ended and I was forced to leave the building.
In closing, the theater wasn't that cold, Dave was very quick in hilariously responding to things, Paul was VERY funny and I really want to move to New York, write jokes and nervously hand them to famous people...
Friday, April 15, 2011
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Monday, April 11, 2011
Friday, April 08, 2011
Thursday, April 07, 2011
First of all, this is really tragic, sad and horrible and I hope they catch the guy.
Okay, let’s examine the evidence:
- 8 women have gone missing. 7 bodies have been found. 4 have been identified.
- The first woman went missing in May. The first bodies were found in December. 3 more were found last week.
- Most of the women were working girls meeting clients on Craigslist.
- The bodies have all been found in the same remote area of dumpy-looking “beaches” on Long Island.
Gilbert, 24, was last seen in Oak Beach on May 1, 2010, after apparently meeting a client she had booked through Craigslist. The bodies of the four other women, who worked as Craigslist escorts and were in their 20s, were found along the same highway by police searching for Gilbert.
The latest discovery was about a mile east of where the other four were found. The four dead women's remains were strewn about 500 yards apart.
Gilbert had arranged to meet a client in Oak Beach. A resident of the gated seaside enclave has told authorities a woman believed to be Gilbert came to his door around 4:45 a.m. May 1, pleading for help.
The man said that when he tried to call police, the woman fled.
A few moments later, an unidentified man in a sport utility vehicle drove past the house and said he was looking for the woman, but then took off. Neither the woman nor the man was seen by the neighbor again.
The client Gilbert had arranged to meet was investigated but is not believed to be a suspect in her disappearance.
Whoa. There are clues here! She went missing AFTER leaving her client. She ran when the neighbor tried to call the cops. The killer drove past the same house in the wee hours and ASKED about the woman. And the cops don’t think it was the Craigslist client.
My first question is, why not? If all of these women were using Craigslist to meet clients, isn’t that a pretty big factor that connects the crimes? I mean, that’s pretty amazing that the killer manages to pick up Craigslist prostitutes after their last appointment.
Why would Gilbert run when the neighbor tried to call the cops? Although I don’t imagine the neighbor was all, “Come in and sit down, hysterical woman at my door at 4:45am. Can I get you some herbal tea?”
Maybe the neighbor locked her out while calling the cops, or was taking too long. These aren't the things the neighbor's going to admit once she turned up dead. "Oh, she just ran away when I tried to help her." Yeah right. What if she banged on your door at 5am? What would you do?
If it were me, I like to think I would have lept into action and been like, “DESCRIPTION! QUICK!”
Why would the killer drive around pre-dawn asking, “Have you seen a hysterical woman? Yeah? She went that way? Thanks.”
It seems like the neighbor is either a self-involved idiot who was like, “Not my problem” or suspect.
I just did all of this while eating my salad (Mandarin chicken from Piperade-to-Go: 5 stars) so I will need to discuss this with my top crime analyst and report back later with a profile. I look forward to any more information and your detailed thoughts in the comments…
Wednesday, April 06, 2011
Tuesday, April 05, 2011
Photo from Drew Altizer's heavenly website. As if that wasn't clear.
Convinced I'd recently survived the worst cold in medically recorded history, I found it hard to believe I could get sick again. This must be allergies, I thought. Here I am on bluffs, suddenly old. I must be developing adulthood maladies. So after a miserable Monday at work, sneezing all over my co-workers, I headed to Safeway for Claritin-D. This is what everyone said I should buy, and before I even handed over cash, I texted Brock a picture of the product just to make sure I was getting the right medicine.
"Yes. That's definitely it."
Buying Claritin-D is a complicated process because one can make meth out of allergy medicine. Thus, you've got to show ID and have your sniffles monitored by the government.
$20 later, I sat in my car and popped a Claitin. 15 minutes later, nothing. 30 minutes later, nothing. Claritin is bullshit. Either that, or I don't have adulthood allergies but Phase 2 of the 2011 Cold that Almost Killed Me.
I dug some old Halls Drops out of a carry-on bag and cut my losses. This morning, I decided to swing by Walgreens on my way to work. I could not subject those around me to sneezing, sniffles and mouth-breathing two days in a row. I decided to get Sudafed this time, recommended by my co-worker Jen and yet another pill for which one needs to federally register.
To buy Claratin-D, Sudafed, etc, you need to pull a little card from the shelf and bring it to the pharmacist. You can't just touch a box of the stuff, like it's any old cold medicine. Oh no. You've got to bring a picture of it to a professional and state your case.
So I grabbed a Sudafed card and brought it to the Pharmacy counter. A young woman asked if she could help me.
"I thought I had allergies." I explained. "I bought Claritin-D yesterday but it's done nothing. Nothing! So now I think I should try Sudafed."
She looked at me, sniffling and sneezing in her window. "This sounds like a cold to me. But Claritin and Sudafed have the same stuff in them. If Claritin doesn't work, neither will this."
"Okay." I said, taking a deep, impatient breath. "Well can you recommend something that will help me."
This is a first world country. I am at a Walgreens in one of the world's most celebrated metropolises. I have both cash and credit. My sniffles should be fixed in a matter of seconds. But the pharmacy staff was giving me the whole, "Sorry, there's nothing we can do for you. You might want to crawl under a shrub and quietly die."
"I am not allowed to recommend anything." She said. "The pharmacist has to do any recommending."
She yelled towards the back, "Luke! Help!"
Luke the Pharmacist is around my age and was wearing a BluTooth in his ear. So right there, I lost all hope. Luke agreed that Claritin and Sudafed were both bullshit medicines and verbally tossed his hands in the air, offering the reassuring, "I don't know."
"I'll just buy the Sudafed." I said.
"We only have Wal-Phed." She replied.
"Fine. I will buy the Wal-Phed." It was only $5.99 anyway.
The young woman asked for my ID and said, "I don't know if they'll let me sell it to you since you bought Claritin yesterday."
"Really?" I asked. "It's not like I'm going to make meth."
This was apparently akin to announcing at airport security, "It's not like I'm going to hijack the plane."
All of Walgreens fell silent, Luke came over to the window and both of them stared at me, smugly sporting burgundy scrubs as if they'd be performing surgery at any moment.
"No one is accusing you of making meth." Luke said, feigning calm.
"The government requires us to enter your information." Said the young woman, obviously preparing her statement to the Swat Team because by this point, she'd probably pushed the secret "meth mention" button under the counter.
I decided silence was my best option, and after staring at me for awhile, the young woman went back to entering my drivers license. Lo and behold, The Man had no problem with my purchase of both Claritin-D and Wal-Phed within a 24-hour period. I signed the little computer screen agreeing not to make meth, paid my $5.99 and got the hell out of there.
Now I'm waiting for this Phucking Wal-phed to kick in, and my purse is a virtual meth lab.
So, you know, party at my house...
Monday, April 04, 2011
Friday, April 01, 2011
And then also, because you've earned it and I really like you, our entire, uncut (yeah) Holiday interview with Frank Chu. Our editor, who could not give less of a shit about San Francisco politics, labeled this 'David Ch(i)u Interview'. And I refuse to change it. Happy Anniversary NCers!