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Starbucks calorie counts

I don’t actually eat the food at Starbucks—I don’t have 500 calories to spare on a giant orange cookie shaped like a daisy—however I’m always interested to see the calorie counts on all the items because it makes waiting in line less boring. (In NYC restaurants with more than 15 outlets have to post the numbers.) That said, does anyone else wonder about the accuracy of those counts? I trust the high ones, but tucked in between a thumbprint scone (310) and a maple walnut swirly cluster frittata with ham and peas (I made that up) is some kind of tart thing which is huge but claims to have 190 or 120 or something.

Okay, so this post would have been better if I could actually remember names or counts, but I’m just saying I don’t trust those shifty coffee mongers.

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The Girls Next Door; language

I kind of love The Girls Next Door. What can I say, guess I’m just a regular red-blooded American male.

Did I ever tell you about how I went to the Playboy Mansion not once but thrice*? I did? Like a zillion times?

Okay, never mind then.

*Incidentally, my friend Trevor and I decided that there was no good reason [whatever-they’re-calleds] should stop with once, twice, thrice so we’ve added quarce, quince… oh crap. I now forget the rest of them. This is what happens when you invent a language. Is this what the minds behind Esperanto experienced?

Update! I found them:

once, twice, thrice, quarce, quince, since, sense, doublequarce, nince, and tence.

we also considered dince or dunce and then decided to keep all three as a regional thing. For example, the North says tence, the South says dince and Canadians say dunce. Then we ate paste.

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I just heard this on TV

“Alright, Twitch and Kerrington performed a moving Viennese waltz dedicated to their choreographer’s disabled daughter.”

I don’t mean to make light of what I’m sure is a poignant plot twist on So You Think You Can Dance, however that sentence, which I just heard on the TV Guide Channel’s Reality Chat, which, incidentally, I would like to host should they be looking for new hosts, is like something out of an S.J. Perelman essay.

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Toilets, starbucks

The good thing about striking out bathroom wise at one starbucks (and by that I mean not finding the restroom fast enough to avoid drawing attention to the fact that you aren't buying anything) is that you can try again at the next starbucks which is sure to be a few doors down.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

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Overthinking

The blurriness of the reel on youtube was bothering me so I uploaded it to Vimeo. Seeing if this is any better. The problem here though is that all my other videos are on youtube so I like the idea that if someone is watching on youtube and wants to see more they are like “oh, 45 more videos!” or whatever as opposed to here where there are three videos, each of which was, I think, a blurriness test. Plus, all the comments on youtube. My precious precious comments like “Rosen yid bitch hahaha.” You know?


Alison Rosen’s extended reel–now 33% more awesome! from Alison Rosen on Vimeo.

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Bean Soup

A good headline for an article about poisonous soup would be “From the ladle to the grave.”

Incidentally, what the hell is going on with me and puns today? Maybe this is some reaction to going freelance. Some kind of final pun flurry before my brain accepts that I no longer have to write headlines? Or maybe I’m actually slowly losing my mind?

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Listen to me cough on Paltalk yesterday

Here’s the first seven minutes of my interview yesterday on the Diana Falzone show on Paltalk. A word of warning, don’t turn the volume up all the way at the beginning when it starts playing and you don’t hear anything because suddenly the music will start and it will blow your eardrums out your ears and they will splatter on the walls and then you will have no eardrums and without eardrums you [pause while I figure out what exactly will happen]

Without eardrums, you will have no rhythm section inside your ears.

Also, as the music came on, Diana said “I like to dance to the music” and you can see for a split second I kind of considered it and then thought better of it, my moves being so good that I would probably make her look bad in comparison which isn’t really a nice thing to do. It is her show, after all.

And special note to ToddRod: Yes, I am wearing The Shirt. But I’d only worn it twice on TV prior to this. (Once on Red Eye and once on F&F.)

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If I drew cartoons for The New Yorker…

I would draw one of two pieces of clothing on a clothesline. One would be somehow chatting up the other and would be saying, “What do you say we take this off-line?”

But that wouldn’t be the end of my clothesline cartoon oeuvre. On the contrary, it’d be just the beginning!

I’d also draw one of some kind of clearly inebriated garment on a clothesline. You know, like a drunk jacket, let’s say. Or a wasted t-shirt. Or a pair of blotto bloomers. Or a three sheets to the wind shift dress. Or hammered hemp skirt. Or a borracho sombrero. Or some knackered knickers! Maybe not the sombrero! And the person hanging this drunk garment on the clothesline would be saying “you need to dry out.”

But see, this is why I don’t draw cartoons for The New Yorker.

Bill Schulz could draw cartoons for The New Yorker if they needed doodles of two pigs in the throes of non-consensual lovemaking. It’s his signature doodle and you won’t find a better representation of said scene on the Eastern Seaboard.

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"The right to bare arms"

I actually heard someone on TV say this while discussing whether women should go sleeveless to somber events. There are a lot of things I could say about this, none of which I have time to say right now. I’m sorry. I’m giving you blue blog.

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