101 in 1001 {II}: 031 go to an MLS game [completed 07.16.09]
sign of the night at the LA galaxy / new york red bulls game?
101 in 1001 {II}: 079 see david beckham play soccer [completed 07.16.09]
MOMS FOR BECKHAM. (gratuitous zoom here.)
07.14.09
happy bastille day, folks. for reasons that could only be explained in the most convoluted way, i need to create a hierarchy of cultural figures named david whose surnames begin with b. thus far it's been determined that david beckham trumps david blaine, for instance, and bowie is tops, of course, so we've got
david bowie
david beckham
david blaine
...but where does david boreanaz go? what about the amazing version of david boreanaz from "smile time," the angel episode in which he turns into a puppet? and david brancaccio - i just don't know. i need judgment calls, and i need davids. help a sister out, would you?
happy bastille day, folks. for reasons that could only be explained in the most convoluted way, i need to create a hierarchy of cultural figures named david whose surnames begin with b. thus far it's been determined that david beckham trumps david blaine, for instance, and bowie is tops, of course, so we've got
david bowie
david beckham
david blaine
...but where does david boreanaz go? what about the amazing version of david boreanaz from "smile time," the angel episode in which he turns into a puppet? and david brancaccio - i just don't know. i need judgment calls, and i need davids. help a sister out, would you?
07.09.09: time for pie
(note: jane austen, zombie, and goat selection spoilers herein)
my only significant quibble (if there's such a thing) with (jane austen and) seth grahame-smith's pride and prejudice and zombies is that, in the second to last illustration, elizabeth is pinned to the dojo floor by a dagger with lady catherine de bourgh's ninjas in lifeless heaps on either side of her; according to the text, the ninjas aren't dispatched until elizabeth escapes while lady catherine is admiring one of the bennets' antique katanas. a little sloppy, guys.
there are also a handful of inconsistencies in the official name of the irish seminary (kilkenny? kilkerry?) for crippled clergymen to which wickham retires with lydia after mr. darcy "beats him lame" - but these things slip through the cracks every now and again, and the book is great fun either way. marjorie garber told my austen class (long ago when the earth was flat, in the summer of '98) that clueless was her favorite version of emma; along, well, sort of analogous lines, i think this might be my favorite pride and prejudice (though my zombie bias is strong, for sure: i always snicker a bit when someone offers to send me their headshot here at the magazine). a few best-loved gobbets:
[at a midtown art store checkout counter]
1: so if you were giving someone a birthday cake...would you put this goat on it, or this goat? [places figurines on counter]
2: well, what kind of cake is it? chocolate?
1: actually, it's really a birthday pie. a key lime pie, ten inches.
2: that's small. that one... [gestures to mountain goat]
1: ...could overshadow the pie?
2: yeah. and key lime, so it's green...with brown and white...yeah, the small one. with the little beard.
1: great!
how are you, internets? what news of your undead, your betrothals and pie-times?
(note: jane austen, zombie, and goat selection spoilers herein)
my only significant quibble (if there's such a thing) with (jane austen and) seth grahame-smith's pride and prejudice and zombies is that, in the second to last illustration, elizabeth is pinned to the dojo floor by a dagger with lady catherine de bourgh's ninjas in lifeless heaps on either side of her; according to the text, the ninjas aren't dispatched until elizabeth escapes while lady catherine is admiring one of the bennets' antique katanas. a little sloppy, guys.
there are also a handful of inconsistencies in the official name of the irish seminary (kilkenny? kilkerry?) for crippled clergymen to which wickham retires with lydia after mr. darcy "beats him lame" - but these things slip through the cracks every now and again, and the book is great fun either way. marjorie garber told my austen class (long ago when the earth was flat, in the summer of '98) that clueless was her favorite version of emma; along, well, sort of analogous lines, i think this might be my favorite pride and prejudice (though my zombie bias is strong, for sure: i always snicker a bit when someone offers to send me their headshot here at the magazine). a few best-loved gobbets:
(chapter 1)in news of the living, yesterday was joe's birthday (and our little cat got to come home, hooray!). it was time for pie.
It is a truth universally acknowledged that a zombie in possession of brains must be in want of more brains.
(chapter 7)
"Can I have the carriage?" said Jane.
"No, my dear, you had better go on horseback, because it seems likely to rain; and they spring so easily from the wet earth."
(chapter 51)
Elizabeth looked expressively at Lydia; but she, who never heard nor saw anything of which she chose to be insensible, gaily continued, "Oh! Mamma, do the people hereabouts know I am married to-day? I was afraid they might not; and I passed William Goulding, whose curricle had been overturned and horses devoured, so I was determined he should know it, and so I let down the side-glass next to him, and took off my glove, and let my hand just rest upon the window-frame, so that he might see the ring, and then I bowed and smiled like anything. He yelled after us - something about his son being trapped; but oh! Mamma, I am sure he saw the ring. Oh! Think of how the news will spread!"
[at a midtown art store checkout counter]
1: so if you were giving someone a birthday cake...would you put this goat on it, or this goat? [places figurines on counter]
2: well, what kind of cake is it? chocolate?
1: actually, it's really a birthday pie. a key lime pie, ten inches.
2: that's small. that one... [gestures to mountain goat]
1: ...could overshadow the pie?
2: yeah. and key lime, so it's green...with brown and white...yeah, the small one. with the little beard.
1: great!
how are you, internets? what news of your undead, your betrothals and pie-times?
07.02.09: from jubilate agno
For he counteracts the powers of darkness by his electrical skin and glaring eyes.
For he counteracts the Devil, who is death, by brisking about the life.
For in his morning orisons he loves the sun and the sun loves him.
For he is of the tribe of Tiger.
For the Cherub Cat is a term of the Angel Tiger.*
For he has the subtlety and hissing of a serpent, which in goodness he suppresses.
For he will not do destruction, if he is well-fed, neither will he spit without provocation.
For he purrs in thankfulness, when God tells him he's a good Cat.
For he is an instrument for the children to learn benevolence upon.
For every house is incomplete without him and a blessing is lacking in the spirit.
(christopher smart, c. 1758-1763)
*i know, i know, but it was the eighteenth century (in a madhouse). i still think christopher smart is great.
06.22.09: freedom trail
joe and i were required in philly this weekend, so we hopped a train bright and early saturday morning. as in april, i couldn't be bothered to take pictures of independence hall, but i did strike up an acquaintance with the mushrooms growing in front of it. may i present some of our nation's forefungus:
the full set is here. many are out of focus, a few are strangely cropped, and i switched dimensions halfway through, but internets, they are all patriots.
joe and i were required in philly this weekend, so we hopped a train bright and early saturday morning. as in april, i couldn't be bothered to take pictures of independence hall, but i did strike up an acquaintance with the mushrooms growing in front of it. may i present some of our nation's forefungus:
the full set is here. many are out of focus, a few are strangely cropped, and i switched dimensions halfway through, but internets, they are all patriots.
06.18.09: frank
i noted as i purchased frank (at the renegade craft fair a few weekends ago) that he was a mean little ring: you could really get things done with those ears if you got into a fight while wearing him. "if you wanted to," his designer said. he looked a little dismayed.
i noted as i purchased frank (at the renegade craft fair a few weekends ago) that he was a mean little ring: you could really get things done with those ears if you got into a fight while wearing him. "if you wanted to," his designer said. he looked a little dismayed.
06.17.09: if spam poetry be the food of love
each relationship has its own internal logic, and all that.
From: 1
Sent: Wednesday, June 17, 2009 4:50 PM
To: 2
Subject: Free beer on my party
we offer the easiest way to stay strong in bed
you really need rolex on your arm;
fitness and good lucks are not far
Don't touch the old bomb
I photoshopped your face
From: 2
Sent:Wednesday, June 17, 2009 5:07 PM
To: 1
Subject: RE: Free beer on my party
Woman Tells Cop She Bought 'Bad Carck'
Mistakes to correct
Join us in park
each relationship has its own internal logic, and all that.
From: 1
Sent: Wednesday, June 17, 2009 4:50 PM
To: 2
Subject: Free beer on my party
we offer the easiest way to stay strong in bed
you really need rolex on your arm;
fitness and good lucks are not far
Don't touch the old bomb
I photoshopped your face
From: 2
Sent:Wednesday, June 17, 2009 5:07 PM
To: 1
Subject: RE: Free beer on my party
Woman Tells Cop She Bought 'Bad Carck'
Mistakes to correct
Join us in park
06.16.09: culture blotter {twelfth night @ shakespeare in the park}
i panicked when i heard that anne hathaway had signed on for this summer's shakespeare in the park. miss devil-wears-prada-and-princess diaries* in the comedy (twelfth night) that functions as a sequel to shakespeare in love** - and, once again, we'd be in california for a week of the show's run? man, we'd never get tickets. i continue to have great luck in shitty weather, though, and we made it through the virtual line on our first try (last thursday, the night after the elvis costello concert). i grabbed umbrellas and wine from the apartment after work, met joe uptown, and boom, shakespeare for us.
as a summer-in-the-city (especially this-stormy-summer-in-the-city) show, twelfth night has much to recommend it: it's not a midsummer night's dream,*** it's heavy on the cross-dressing and the singing, and it sends you from the theater with a marvelous and memorable "hey, ho, the wind and the rain" faux downer (feste's "when that i was and a tiny little boy;" david pittu killed it as feste, and i'm now very sorry i didn't see him in stoppard's coast of utopia). anne hathaway's voice is just as lovely as it was when she sang with hugh jackman at the academy awards this year, and her physical (stage combat for laughs, a-hath: who knew you had it in you?) and vocal (not verbal, vocal; she plays the his-and-hers role well) comedy is quite good; we were seated too far away to catch many of her facial expressions, alas, so her softer moments as viola fell a bit flat. hamish linklater as sir andrew aguecheek and jay o. sanders as sir toby belch had a didi-and-gogo, rosencrantz-and-guildenstern chemistry that played wonderfully; audra "four-time-tony-winning" mcdonald was a formidable olivia and needs to stop hiding her light under the bushel basket that is abc's private practice; hem, the brooklyn folk-rock types who played the show's original score onstage, pleased me considerably more than folk-rock types generally do. of the four shows i've seen at the delacorte (midsummer in '07, hamlet and hair last year), this was easily my favorite. LMO + 12th 4ever.
i panicked when i heard that anne hathaway had signed on for this summer's shakespeare in the park. miss devil-wears-prada-and-princess diaries* in the comedy (twelfth night) that functions as a sequel to shakespeare in love** - and, once again, we'd be in california for a week of the show's run? man, we'd never get tickets. i continue to have great luck in shitty weather, though, and we made it through the virtual line on our first try (last thursday, the night after the elvis costello concert). i grabbed umbrellas and wine from the apartment after work, met joe uptown, and boom, shakespeare for us.
as a summer-in-the-city (especially this-stormy-summer-in-the-city) show, twelfth night has much to recommend it: it's not a midsummer night's dream,*** it's heavy on the cross-dressing and the singing, and it sends you from the theater with a marvelous and memorable "hey, ho, the wind and the rain" faux downer (feste's "when that i was and a tiny little boy;" david pittu killed it as feste, and i'm now very sorry i didn't see him in stoppard's coast of utopia). anne hathaway's voice is just as lovely as it was when she sang with hugh jackman at the academy awards this year, and her physical (stage combat for laughs, a-hath: who knew you had it in you?) and vocal (not verbal, vocal; she plays the his-and-hers role well) comedy is quite good; we were seated too far away to catch many of her facial expressions, alas, so her softer moments as viola fell a bit flat. hamish linklater as sir andrew aguecheek and jay o. sanders as sir toby belch had a didi-and-gogo, rosencrantz-and-guildenstern chemistry that played wonderfully; audra "four-time-tony-winning" mcdonald was a formidable olivia and needs to stop hiding her light under the bushel basket that is abc's private practice; hem, the brooklyn folk-rock types who played the show's original score onstage, pleased me considerably more than folk-rock types generally do. of the four shows i've seen at the delacorte (midsummer in '07, hamlet and hair last year), this was easily my favorite. LMO + 12th 4ever.
*and rachel getting married, of course, but i was thinking of films that would draw non-regulars to the shakespeare lines.
**a convoluted draw, but whatever, i was feeling vulnerable.
***nothing but love for midsummer, but we need some time apart. it has grown common to me.
06.11.09
101 in 1001 {II}: 008 see elvis costello in concert [completed 06.10.09]
my friend douglas's pitchfork review of elvis costello's latest album, secret, profane & sugarcane, had me a bit worried before last night's show: he argues that the sugarcanes, the bluegrass ringers who replace the attractions (elvis's rock band), have a hard time keeping up. though i did long for the occasional keyboard squeal, i found that i liked the net effect of this band: since i hadn't yet heard the new stuff, i appreciated the taste of EC's vocals (and the lyrics, bless that man and his clever, clever lyrics) without a lot of garnish. moreover, the show's rootsy underpinnings led to some really fantastic combinations for older and cover material - i loved his interpretation of "femme fatale,"* which he called "a folk song from these parts," and "blame it on cain" got even cooler with a little dobro and accordion sprinkled over the top. so when it was good, the show was very, very good, and when it was bad - oh, my. i wish i could forget hearing "every day i write the book" (a song that's always been a bit too proud of itself, so whatever) and "(the angels wanna wear my) red shoes" (one of my favorites, alas!); i'm sure it gets tiresome to play album versions of things night after night after night, but i can't forgive him for the drawn-out vocal flourishes he added to those songs. the "book" chorus blossomed like a rotten flower; he sang that thing for ten minutes. but! he spent plenty of time (he played for more than two and a half hours) with other, far finer things. i will forgive almost anything for a fiery "(what's so funny 'bout) peace, love and understanding" or an unadorned "alison," and i got both. hell of a guy, that elvis costello.
101 in 1001 {II}: 008 see elvis costello in concert [completed 06.10.09]
my friend douglas's pitchfork review of elvis costello's latest album, secret, profane & sugarcane, had me a bit worried before last night's show: he argues that the sugarcanes, the bluegrass ringers who replace the attractions (elvis's rock band), have a hard time keeping up. though i did long for the occasional keyboard squeal, i found that i liked the net effect of this band: since i hadn't yet heard the new stuff, i appreciated the taste of EC's vocals (and the lyrics, bless that man and his clever, clever lyrics) without a lot of garnish. moreover, the show's rootsy underpinnings led to some really fantastic combinations for older and cover material - i loved his interpretation of "femme fatale,"* which he called "a folk song from these parts," and "blame it on cain" got even cooler with a little dobro and accordion sprinkled over the top. so when it was good, the show was very, very good, and when it was bad - oh, my. i wish i could forget hearing "every day i write the book" (a song that's always been a bit too proud of itself, so whatever) and "(the angels wanna wear my) red shoes" (one of my favorites, alas!); i'm sure it gets tiresome to play album versions of things night after night after night, but i can't forgive him for the drawn-out vocal flourishes he added to those songs. the "book" chorus blossomed like a rotten flower; he sang that thing for ten minutes. but! he spent plenty of time (he played for more than two and a half hours) with other, far finer things. i will forgive almost anything for a fiery "(what's so funny 'bout) peace, love and understanding" or an unadorned "alison," and i got both. hell of a guy, that elvis costello.
*props for covering a velvet underground song from the nico era, too. he could mimic lou reed in his sleep; hearing his take on big, teutonic ladyvocals was much more interesting.
06.06.09
101 in 1001 {II}: 027 invent a bitchin’ cupcake recipe [completed 06.05.09]
it's hard to argue with the dark and stormy (dark rum over ginger beer and ice, sometimes with a bit of lime; our preferred version is gosling's black seal over maine root ginger brew and ice): it's flavorful and spicy without being cloying or fussy. those sounded like decent parameters for dessert invention, too, and the skies in new york were black and miserable yesterday afternoon and evening, so: i made dark and stormy cupcakes.
this recipe sounds time-consuming and a little kitchen-sinky - because it combines two batters, it does feature everything from fresh ground pepper and molasses to lemon rind and crystallized ginger - but i am the laziest cook i know, and i firmly believe that these little dudes are worth the work.
dark and stormy cupcakes
(adapted from david lebovitz, southern living, and slashfood recipes, with advice from a friendly food editor*)
dark (ginger cake) batter
- 2 oz. fresh ginger, peeled and grated
- 1/2 c molasses
- 1/2 c sugar
- 1/2 c vegetable oil
- 1 1/4 c flour
- 1/2 tsp cinnamon
- 1/4 tsp ground cloves
- 1/4 tsp freshly ground black pepper
- 1/2 c water
- 1 tsp baking soda
- 1 egg
in a large bowl, mix the molasses, sugar, and oil; in another bowl, stir the flour, cinnamon, cloves, and black pepper together. zap the water in the microwave, stir in the baking soda, then add to the molasses bowl. stir in the grated ginger. whisk the flour mixture into the molasses mixture, then add the egg and mix until thoroughly combined (you'll have a dark, bubbling bowl, sort of like the la brea tar pits).
light (rum cake) batter
- 3/4 c butter, softened
- 3/4 c sugar
- 2 eggs, minus one white
- 1 tsp vanilla extract
- 1 tbsp grated lemon rind
- 3/8 c dark rum
- 1 1/2 c flour
- 1 tsp baking powder
- 1/4 tsp baking soda
- pinch of salt
- 1/2 c heavy whipping cream
beat butter and sugar until light and fluffy. add eggs and vanilla, then lemon rind, then rum, beating each time until blended (you'll have wee, curdled-looking chunks; don't worry, it's supposed to look like that). combine dry ingredients in another small bowl, then add to batter, alternating with the cream, beginning and ending with the dry stuff. stir until just blended after each addition.
act II: they meet
ladle dark batter into lined cupcake pans so that each is just over half-full, then top each with a big dollop (say, 2 to 2 1/2 tbsp) of light batter, like so.
bake for 30 minutes at 350 degrees, until a toothpick or fondue fork** comes out clean. cool cupcakes for about 15 minutes (or about five minutes next to a slightly open window, if the weather is as bad as it was last night), then transfer cupcakes to two large platters and poke the hell out of them with a fondue fork (or a cocktail pick, if you want to be clever), like so.
combine 4 tbsp of butter, 3/8 c sugar, and 1/3 c dark rum (gosling's again) in a saucepan over medium heat; when mixture is liquid, stick it over by the window where the cupcakes cooled for about 10 minutes. ladle a large spoonful of the cooled rum sauce over each cupcake.
for frosting, beat 8 ounces (1 package) cold cream cheese with 2 1/2 tbsp. softened butter, 1 c powdered sugar, and 1 tsp. vanilla until combined. add a glug of the gosling's and stir to combine; repeat as necessary until frosting has reached your optimal level of rumminess (i used three).
give each cupcake a dollop of frosting and sprinkle with finely chopped crystallized ginger, thus:
ta-da!
101 in 1001 {II}: 027 invent a bitchin’ cupcake recipe [completed 06.05.09]
it's hard to argue with the dark and stormy (dark rum over ginger beer and ice, sometimes with a bit of lime; our preferred version is gosling's black seal over maine root ginger brew and ice): it's flavorful and spicy without being cloying or fussy. those sounded like decent parameters for dessert invention, too, and the skies in new york were black and miserable yesterday afternoon and evening, so: i made dark and stormy cupcakes.
this recipe sounds time-consuming and a little kitchen-sinky - because it combines two batters, it does feature everything from fresh ground pepper and molasses to lemon rind and crystallized ginger - but i am the laziest cook i know, and i firmly believe that these little dudes are worth the work.
dark and stormy cupcakes
(adapted from david lebovitz, southern living, and slashfood recipes, with advice from a friendly food editor*)
dark (ginger cake) batter
- 2 oz. fresh ginger, peeled and grated
- 1/2 c molasses
- 1/2 c sugar
- 1/2 c vegetable oil
- 1 1/4 c flour
- 1/2 tsp cinnamon
- 1/4 tsp ground cloves
- 1/4 tsp freshly ground black pepper
- 1/2 c water
- 1 tsp baking soda
- 1 egg
in a large bowl, mix the molasses, sugar, and oil; in another bowl, stir the flour, cinnamon, cloves, and black pepper together. zap the water in the microwave, stir in the baking soda, then add to the molasses bowl. stir in the grated ginger. whisk the flour mixture into the molasses mixture, then add the egg and mix until thoroughly combined (you'll have a dark, bubbling bowl, sort of like the la brea tar pits).
light (rum cake) batter
- 3/4 c butter, softened
- 3/4 c sugar
- 2 eggs, minus one white
- 1 tsp vanilla extract
- 1 tbsp grated lemon rind
- 3/8 c dark rum
- 1 1/2 c flour
- 1 tsp baking powder
- 1/4 tsp baking soda
- pinch of salt
- 1/2 c heavy whipping cream
beat butter and sugar until light and fluffy. add eggs and vanilla, then lemon rind, then rum, beating each time until blended (you'll have wee, curdled-looking chunks; don't worry, it's supposed to look like that). combine dry ingredients in another small bowl, then add to batter, alternating with the cream, beginning and ending with the dry stuff. stir until just blended after each addition.
act II: they meet
ladle dark batter into lined cupcake pans so that each is just over half-full, then top each with a big dollop (say, 2 to 2 1/2 tbsp) of light batter, like so.
bake for 30 minutes at 350 degrees, until a toothpick or fondue fork** comes out clean. cool cupcakes for about 15 minutes (or about five minutes next to a slightly open window, if the weather is as bad as it was last night), then transfer cupcakes to two large platters and poke the hell out of them with a fondue fork (or a cocktail pick, if you want to be clever), like so.
combine 4 tbsp of butter, 3/8 c sugar, and 1/3 c dark rum (gosling's again) in a saucepan over medium heat; when mixture is liquid, stick it over by the window where the cupcakes cooled for about 10 minutes. ladle a large spoonful of the cooled rum sauce over each cupcake.
for frosting, beat 8 ounces (1 package) cold cream cheese with 2 1/2 tbsp. softened butter, 1 c powdered sugar, and 1 tsp. vanilla until combined. add a glug of the gosling's and stir to combine; repeat as necessary until frosting has reached your optimal level of rumminess (i used three).
give each cupcake a dollop of frosting and sprinkle with finely chopped crystallized ginger, thus:
ta-da!
*i consulted a food editor as i invented my recipe, internets: that's how much i love you.
**i use a lot of fondue forks when i cook. it's just a thing.
06.02.09
i love the way francis strand (of how to learn swedish in 1000 difficult lessons, a beautifully written blog about his life in stockholm) introduces people: on his site, they are "the pop star" or "A. the TV producer," and i'm always reminded of nineteenth-century novels, with their lady w------s and dukes of b------. nicknames aren't nearly as poetic, though they're certainly useful if, say, all of one's acquaintances are attorneys (perhaps especially if all of one's acquaintances are attorneys) - and my use of actual names is, let's be honest, not sexy at all. think of the possibilities, though...
a dirty dozen: people who've popped up in my life this year
01 the feng shui specialist who urges me to keep a little pig in the upper left corner of my desk
02 the vampire bat hunter
03 the hypnotherapist (who told great stories about both his office dog and mesmer)
04 the kinky sex writer who publishes under a pseudonym and appears at her readings in character
05, 06 the politician's son and daughter
07 the esperanto expert who passed around a hip flask full of liqueur
08 the environmental consultant who met his wife watching italian films at an embassy in indonesia
09 the iconic fashion designer's confidante
10 the classical violinist who organizes die-ins
11 the attorney* with an alter ego in a bluegrass band
12 the secretly evil celebrity chef
terribly mysterious, no? what characters have waltzed through your narrative recently?
i love the way francis strand (of how to learn swedish in 1000 difficult lessons, a beautifully written blog about his life in stockholm) introduces people: on his site, they are "the pop star" or "A. the TV producer," and i'm always reminded of nineteenth-century novels, with their lady w------s and dukes of b------. nicknames aren't nearly as poetic, though they're certainly useful if, say, all of one's acquaintances are attorneys (perhaps especially if all of one's acquaintances are attorneys) - and my use of actual names is, let's be honest, not sexy at all. think of the possibilities, though...
a dirty dozen: people who've popped up in my life this year
01 the feng shui specialist who urges me to keep a little pig in the upper left corner of my desk
02 the vampire bat hunter
03 the hypnotherapist (who told great stories about both his office dog and mesmer)
04 the kinky sex writer who publishes under a pseudonym and appears at her readings in character
05, 06 the politician's son and daughter
07 the esperanto expert who passed around a hip flask full of liqueur
08 the environmental consultant who met his wife watching italian films at an embassy in indonesia
09 the iconic fashion designer's confidante
10 the classical violinist who organizes die-ins
11 the attorney* with an alter ego in a bluegrass band
12 the secretly evil celebrity chef
terribly mysterious, no? what characters have waltzed through your narrative recently?
*there's no escaping those attorneys.
06.01.09: han, ma bookie
we are fond of citronella candles, especially monstrous ones that remind us of jabba's palace.
almost eight hours of grilling and loafing, and not a single jersey skeeter bite. thanks, science!
we are fond of citronella candles, especially monstrous ones that remind us of jabba's palace.
almost eight hours of grilling and loafing, and not a single jersey skeeter bite. thanks, science!
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