02 October 2007

oh yeah

One thing I failed to mention in my gripping weekend wrap-up was that Gina and I paid a visit to the 86th Street Five Guys Famous Burgers and Fries location on Friday evening.

I'd heard a bit about Five Guys from - well really I have no idea where - and thought that we should check it out. One of the things about living the big city life (ha) is that the sorts of crap (but tasty!) mom and pop foods that are readily available in small town USA are pretty hard to find.

An example? Fried chicken. Sure you can get fried chicken from KFC or Church's or whatever, but the sort of fried chicken you might find at Good Ol' Days or Trenton House isn't really advertised in the city - and without someone testing out the local bar and grill, you really have no way of finding it. We don't have any idea where to start, really.

The same thing goes with hamburgers - the sort of hamburger that's fresh, probably about 65% fat, and cooked on an old dirty surface (it's not really a grill, is it?). You can get sort of close at Steak n' Shake, but not really close at all... the idea is the same, but the food isn't quite it. Indy locals might point to Workingman's Friend - and that's pretty damn close... But Five Guys is closer. And actually, better, maybe, than that bar burger from the middle of nowhere.

Luckily (or perhaps unluckily for my diet), they've got a southside Five Guys location on the way. Or maybe it's open already. We didn't try the fries (fried in peanut oil - which I'm over because I've had that before at Penn Station) or even the peanuts (which are free and you're supposed to throw on the floor - no one else was doing it though).

In addition to the local Dunkin' Donuts, which I plan to visit Saturday mornings before Fulham Football, I forsee gaining about 90 pounds this winter. GREAT! Just what I needed.

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We've become an official Nielsen family - they're attaching the box sometime in the next month... Gina's taking care of all of that, so whatever. Soccer ratings are going to go through the roof, because Gina doesn't actually watch much TV.

BIG BROTHER IS NOW WATCHING. Should I be embarrassed because I regularly watch HBO's new Handjob Show? It's actually called Tell Me You Love Me, but I call it the Handjob Show because it once featured a Handjob. Handjob. Handjob.

I dunno. Gina doesn't wanna watch the Handjob Show. She also doesn't wanna watch the Friday Night Lights tv series, which I bought on dvd this weekend. I heard it was good. It was $20. Worth a shot.

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There's a funny Moritz Volzy-penned article in the Times O' London:
That said, I remember being on the team bus with Germany Under15s on the way to a game against Turkey. It’s a big game, so we we had to be psyched up. As we approached the stadium, Eye of the Tiger came on the stereo, so we got the driver to crank it up. We were punching the air, punching the seats, punching each other. Turkey beat us 4-1. That was the last time music was used as part of pre-match preparation in the Motherland.

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I've been spelling nielsen as nielson the whole time. And that was wrong, so I went back and edited all my posts.

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