Auf wiedersehen, Berghoff!

Chicago's oldest restaurant closes today after 108 years. Apparently the owners are retiring, and none of the their four children want to take it over. I dined here a few years ago and learned that The Berghoff also had the first liquor license issued by the city after Prohibition. Considering Chicago also recently lost another iconic institution, Marshall Field's, it seems that the business foundation that helped form this city is starting to slowly unwind. Sadness.

Purchased on Devon Street today at the Patel Brothers' Grocery Store:



Let's take a closer look, shall we?



"Mommy, the looming machine mangled my hand again."

I was watching VH1's "Web Junk 20" this weekend (a great show) when they showed this old commercial from the 80s. It's for a diet candy supplement with the unfortunate product name, "AYDS."

"Question: Why take diet pills when you can enjoy AYDS?"

Hysterical.

I remember one time visiting my grandparents in Chippewa Falls, WI. The year was about 1984/85 and I was in 2nd or 3rd grade. I was sitting in my grandpa's office when I opened one of his desk drawers and saw an AYDS box. That was around the time the NBC nightly news was covering the AIDS virus and (from what I recall) doctors still weren't 100% certain how it was transmitted. It was all too complex for my young mind, but all I know is, for a brief moment, I thought this box of AYDS meant that my grandpa actually had AIDS. And then I myself tried an AYDS and wondered how I would explain to my parents that I, too, now had AIDS.

Thank god that was all figured out and we got some education classes up in Wisconsin.

If you live in the Chicago-area and wanna go bowling with us tomorrow night, come join us for a charity Bowl-O-Rama.

BOWL-O-RAMA
Location: Lincoln Square Lanes
4874 N. Lincoln Ave.
Chicago, IL

When: Sat. Feb. 25th, 2006
Check-in begins at 6:15 PM
with bowling starting at 7 PM

Cost: $40, which includes 3 games of
bowling, shoe rental, heavy appetizers
and a $15 donation to Camp GLOW.
Drinks are not included in this price, but a very good deed is!

Camp GLOW is a week-long leadership development camp, organized by Peace Corps volunteers in the country of Namibia. The camp is offered to 80 students ages 13-16, and teaches students about gender awareness, promote self-confidence, explore future career choices, fight the AIDS epidemic and develop leadership skills.

Um, incase you're wondering, I'm watching the documentary, "It's Not Easy Being a Wolf Boy." Followed by "The Man With Exploding Arms"

Dude, what the hell is on TLC these days?

Last night, I invited Will over for dinner and made this, which turned out pretty good. This recipe is on the cover of this month's "Cooking Light" magazine. If you see it on the newsstands, it will cause you to immediately drool.

:: gaarrrggghhallll :: (that's the sound of drool)


Oh and P.S. why didn't anyone tell me about the Meow Mix Wall Clock? (photo courtesy of some schmuck on Ebay) I saw the informerical and said in utter amazement, "No, this can't be real." I liked this satire article which headline reads, "Meow Mix Wall Clock Used for Torture." Maybe there's a little part of me that wants it. Just a little.

I headed up to Milwaukee with friends this weekend to see Marquette beat Pittsburgh.


We had a few cocktails.


When bad photos happen to drunk people.


The sign of a good party is when someone's head (not mine) goes through the wall.

Taking pride in my heritage, I gotta say, for a country of 4.5 million people (nearly a million people less than the population of Wisconsin), Norway is leading the Olympic Medal count with 13 total medals, compared to the United States with a mere 9 total medals.

Besides the band a-ha, this is pretty much the only time you'll hear of Norway (besides, yes, the Norwegian flag burning going on in the Middle East), so I'm gonna revel in it a bit. Too bad I didn't inherit any sort of winter sports skills other than walking in snow and cursing the whole time. That's a sport in Chicago.

Ja, vi elsker dette landet!

Dear Baby Lamb,

I'm sorry I had to eat your rack of ribs last night at Philander's in order to celebrate Valentine's Day. I know they say it's a corporate holiday and all, but you tasted really, really delicious. Especially when encrusted with a pistachio pesto-white truffle oil crust and accompanied with a 40-year-old balsamic demi-glaze and a wedge of au gratin potatoes.

If it's any consolation, Mr. Crab wasn't pleased he was turned into a cake, either.

Love,
Megan

Aw.

"And then Wally turned to me and asked if I could get him a beer."

Chicago got a fresh coat of snow today. This is courtyard of my apartment building. If all winter days were like this, I might actually like this season. Oh Winter, you tease.

Ok, someone's gonna have to prop me up today and make me talk like a ventriloquist's doll, because I ain't havin' any of it today. Ya hear me?!

Tonight, I'm heading to Bungalow Lounge for a St. Valentine's Day martini party. Before you think it, I'll go ahead and say it. How...sorority girl of me. I can't help it, I'm a sucker for an alcoholic drink that tastes like chocolate milk. So eat it! Kay? Kay.

Wow, I get cranky when I go out too late and have to work the next day, don't I?

Ladies and gentlemen,

It is my great privilege to present to you the world's only death metal band with a parrot as its lead singer, Hatebeak.

From a recent interview:
Q: "How do recording sessions look like? What tricks do you use to make Waldo sing the way you want him to?"

A: "WALDO (the parrot) is quite talkative and has always responded to music in general. We can tell he likes metal because he stands on one leg when he's happy. This happens anytime we play Carcass, Left Hand Path by Entombed, pretty much anything from the early Earache catalog (except Scorn)."

This shit is priceless, people.

Listen to the Mp3 "God of Empty Nest" here.

For the record, Wally was biting me the entire time we listened to that song.

Last night, Will and I went out for Korean food. I tried kimchi for the first time, while Will had something called "Hot Bi Bim Bop." Of course, now I have substituted the lyrics to The Ramones' "Blitzkrieg Bop" to "Hot Bi Bim Bop!" in my head.

Seriously, I could totally work for the Korean Food Council's ad agency.

Proof that they need me:

This was taken from the Kimchi website.

"Well-fermented kimchi has anti-biotic characteristics as lactic acid bacteria produced in the process of fermentation suppresses the growth of harmful bacteria."

Mmmmm-Mmmm! Delicious!

In the past week or so, I've gone out to eat and had:

- Thai
- Jamaican
- Chinese (Will and I tried chicken feet, y'all.)
- Lebanese (I keep thinking of Blanche from "The Golden Girls" when she confuses Lebanese for Lesbian. Good times).
- Swedish (Highly underrated cuisine. If you live in Chicago, check out Tre Kronor. So so good. And I'm only partially saying that because I'm Scandinavian-American)
- Mexican on Sat. night with Kelly & pals
and tomorrow night I think we're going out for Indian food.

The fucking United Nations is in my mouth, people. I'll lick Angelina Jolie. Don't push me.

He's edumacated.

More funny tattoos here.

I've been a little shy to write about this because I know he reads this (hi!), so I'll keep it short and sweet.

I met someone named Will - we've been dating just a short time, but I think he's pretty rad and I think I like him lots.

That is all.

:: blushes ::

Anyone who has watched a Super Bowl with me over 3 years ago will know that I used to be borderline psychotic when it came to the Super Bowl ads. I'm not proud that I "shush-ed" someone else's grandma. We all have our crosses to bear.

Thanks to the help of TiVo, a strong dose of Zyprexa, and the decline of smart creative in advertising in recent years, I no longer seclude myself from the rest of the world on Super Bowl Sunday.

Especially when I hear that we will all have to endure listening to Jessica Simpson belt out, "These Bites Are Made for Poppin'" for Pizza Hut.

On behalf of the industry, I apologize to all of you in advance.

Le sigh.

Don't Fuck with the Jesus.



I see this car often on my way to work and crack up everytime. Then I practice saying "Don't Fuck with the Jesus!" in various accents.

I have a long drive to work, people. Cut me some slack.