Pretty Pictures Version 11.30.11

I'm off to Black Jack for November's El Último Miércoles (EUM) with Stacy B., Barb, and the Jayhawk.  Actually, the Jayhawk is hopefully getting there before the rest of us to snag a corner at the bar so we can better crush on our bartender, catch up on this month's stories, and celebrate life (while poo-pooing the demise of the over-priced 14th Street Corridor condo and the sure-to-disappoint reboot of a beloved TV monster/undead classic).  I'll definitely be raising a glass to Black Cat Bill .  And to today's Pretty Pictures.  Slow Club with "If We're Still Alive."

You Cold Compress Me

It looks like Halloween Weekend caught up with me, mis bonitos.  I've been fighting a head cold since Sunday evening. 

I kind of felt less-than-100% that afternoon, but I couldn't let a few sniffles keep me from getting my food and drink on at Lincoln for brunch.  Which was good, but I think it had more to do with the company and endless punch bowls of mimosas and pointsettias than the food.  The food was fine.  I got the mac 'n cheese, which was nice and creamy and smoky, and it was a blessing that it came with green beans and not fava beans because me no likey favas, and the crisp green beans in the melty smooth mac were a good contrast.  I just wish the portion was a tad bigger.  Which was the general sense I got from the rest of the crew's food.  Everything was tasty but just not enough ("seasonal small plates -- an overdone and not-well-done concept in this town, IMHO -- aside).

Another sense I got?  The staff were really nice and attentive, but the manager was bit too casual in her attempt to seem attentive.  It's great that she came to the table and shot the shizz with us for a bit, but dropping the F-bomb in rapid succession when talking about her faulous gays and what all the boys at our table could do with the open mouth and big nose on the DJ left us all a bit "the fuh...?!."  We got over it once the DJ finally started playing some more upbeat and less sleepy Muzak™ dub beats, though.  And after we'd had more bottomless drinks.  I'd go back for them.  At the bar.  Without the colorful commentary.  Unless it's coming from me or the Jayhawk.  Overall rating: 2 besos.

Now back to my DVR'd Top Model so I can catch up before tonight's new episode.  I miss you already, Bianca-not-Beyonce.

Update:  I'd go back to Lincoln for some peanut butter lovin'.  Maybe I can get the Jayhawk to take me there for my fast-approaching birthday dinner.  He likes peanut butter even more than I do...

Colossal!

Not about the Rican juices*, but about the painting in El Prado. Looks like "The Colossus" by Franciso de Goya y Lucientes is not Goya's at all. Just so happens that Goya's quietly (since he's been dead, to be fair) been taking the credit for having painted the gentle giant for decades now. But he's really the work of one of Goya's apprentices, Asensio Juliá. Once, again, the fame ho' takes the credit while the real talent stands in the shadows. Kinda like how Eleanor Waldorf took credit for Little Jenny Humphreys' designs on the Gossip Girl. But Little Jenny showed Eleanor who's the real bosslady, didn't she? And now Little Asensio's showing Francisco who's the boss, too. Jeebus, the art gods will strike me down for having written that.

The point is that you can't trust an amigo, onetime. Much like you should never trust our favorite amigo, Alberto Gonzalez. He's really going around proclaiming that he's another good guy misrepresented by the evil media? Berto and the Blago should get together and start their own Church of Delusions. And yeah, neither Alberto nor Rod are mis amigos. Blech. Shizz...

(*El Coloso is a Registered TM of Colón Brothers, Inc.)

¡Me Encantan los Cables!

Because I get to see how far my peoples have come. And how far their imagination has come, as well. No more relying on drag queens to do celebrity gossip (although there's some new gossip show with a drag queen hostess in the works). They have their own telenovela version of the "Desperate Housewives" with a little of the lezzie action! I just finished watching tonight's episode, and boy is it bad. And boy am I'm hooked!

And the Winner Is...

Pesce!

The Taste of Dupont last night was fun. I tasted one too many beers and not enough food, but that's the way this Mango rolls. What little bit of food I did taste was yummy. Standouts: Orlando's lamb loin with English peas and a minted lamb jus (yum) + Darlington House's roasted sausage with mini polenta cake (yum) + Pesce's new chef (yum). Disappointment: Al Tiramisu overall. It really is a shame that such an established restaurant dishes out such mediocre food. Baked ziti? Really?

But the more important winner is Barack Obama. The New Mexico Sun News has announced him victorious already. Keep hope alive. And keep your eyes on the tube for tonight's Obama Show. Should be interesting times. Especially since Johnny's gonna be on Larry King at 9 most probably spewing more lies about Barack (so, now he's pro-Holocaust?) and complaining even more loudly about how Major League Baseball's also in cahoots with Barack for pushing the start time of tonight's game to 8:37. Ce n'est pas vrai, mon ami. Idiota...

Majide, Indeed...

WTF's wrong with the Japanese? First, they make us perform like Yellow Penguins or Green Monkeys. Then, they keep us from achieving energy independence. And now they cause a banana shortage?! What's next? Teaching our children how to poop properly? Sheesh...

At least it's not like they're killing bear cubs and covering them with Obama campaign signs. Ugh...I'm sick to my stomach. Sick redneck cowards.