...get the fuck out. This anecdote comes in a piece about Yelp bullies. (It probably helps when if a Yelp review makes you cry, you can dry your tears on the ribbon of your James Beard Award medallion.) But the more inspiring part is this. The Cod sure wishes he could employ a similar comp and toss approach at his day job:
Kittens. Puppies. Sunsets. The knowledge that if you are rich and powerful enough, you can trade your wife in on a newer model. I am not tight w/ Chris Kimball. His magazine comes to our house, in spite of our best efforts. Perhaps wife #1 was a terrible harridan, and Kimball is grabbing a few years of happiness before he dies. But to present the story of a wealthy boss marrying a much younger employee as if it were the feel-good story of the summer is a head scratcher:
One wonders if Ms. Baldino will slide into the role of wife #1 in future entertaining w/ the Kimballs pieces, like this, this, and this. People get married and people get divorced, but it's an odd wedding for the Times to highlight, and it's tacky to use your wife as a prop right before you get separated. In any event suggest celebrating the day with some potato salad. Play us off, George Michael!
So these stickers exist. They are real, thanks to some peerless photoshopping from Penny Pascal.
Here are the remarks by Mr. David Ortiz that inspired me to make these:
“All right, Boston: This jersey that we wear today, it doesn’t say Red Sox. It says Boston. We want to thank you, Mayor Menino, Governor Patrick, the whole police department for the great job that they did this past week. This is our fucking city. And nobody gonna dictate our freedom. Stay strong.”
-David Ortiz, April 20, 2013
The Gurgling Cod is not selling these, but is happy to send one to you. You can twitter at thegurglingcod, or email fesser at the gmail dot com, or comment below. Give me an address, via Twitter @thegurglingco or at fesser at gmail and I'll send you a sticker or two. All I ask is that you tell me what you are doing to help. In times of crisis, helpers are important. You might be a first responder. You might keep people fed. You might have staffed a strategic Dunkin Donuts during the lockdown. You might make a point of sleeping with first responders. You might be a teacher or a bartender with jittery patrons. You might have fed distraught runners burritos. You might have sent some money to a charity. You might have explained to someone that these clowns have as much to do w/ Islam as those funeral picketing mofos have to do with Jesus. You might have kept your kids from being too scared. You could do something positive, like, right now, and then email me for a sticker with a cuss on it. Just holler, and let me know.
Over the years, the Cod has traced the back-and-forth between chefs and diners over how much say each should have over what goes on the plate. The Cod's position is here. It is, however, a game of give-and-take: if you tell Dave Chang that you like your aged ribeye well done, or tell Grant Achatz to delete mushrooms from his 37 course tasting menu, those dudes can and should run you out of the restaurant. On the other hand, there are some restaurants that feature a more collaborative relation between chef and patron, as in various burrito and wrap places where you point to items in sequence and have them inserted into your cylindrical lunch or not, depending on your preference. It's sort of like Missile Command meets salad bar. (And there are fancy restaurants that will put your dressing on the side, or believe you when you tell them you are allergic to cranberries, or whatever, and there are fast food places where how they got it is how you get it, but I digress)
Recently, back in the muchbeloved LOTB&TC, there was a misunderstanding about whose vision should prevail:
According to police, Drouin fled the station, but the employee refused to let her get away. “The sub-maker, determined not to let Drouin escape justice, gave pursuit catching up to her on Hancock Street near Quincy City Hall and holding her until Transit [and] Quincy Police arrived,” according to the report. Droiun complained of neck injuries and was transported to a local hospital. Police say the suspect told them that the “whole incident began over ‘too many pickles.’”
You are reading that correctly. Lady ordering a sub! At a Nathan's Famous! In a T station! On the Red Line! Attacks the submaker when sandwich is not prepared expressly to her specifications. How many mistakes can you count: 1) Ordering a cheesesteak not in Philadelphia. 2) Ordering a sandwich from a place known for hot dogs. 3) Eating food from a restaurant in a subway station. (I am sure there is some place like Kyoto where the best ramen in the city is in a subway station, but this is Quincy Center.) Guiteau Monday keeps rolling along, and it's not even noon.
The Cod is, well, devastated by the devastation in his hometown. It appears that doctors at the hospital where the Cod's corporeal host stepped on the scene back in the day spent a lovely spring afternoon performing emergency amputations. An act of terror, no doubt. If you have a dog in the exotic foreign terror vs. watery domestic terror, you are a small person and I want you to stop reading now, and find some other place on the Internet with other tinfoil hat people. Here, until I feel the need to switch to brown liquor and fresh air, an effort to celebrate the city I love, things that make us love Boston.. I was compelled to this by the mix that Phil Nel pulled together, and in a remarkable bit of bridgin the gap between my synapses and and YouTube, the medley of songs mentioning Boston that WBCN used to play. I sent money to my favorite Boston charity, and so should you, and give blood, etc, But, in an effort to extort a good feeling from a terrible terrible day, I will share an array of Boston stuff - feel free to dm or email suggestions. It's on the chicken soup principle, but chowder, because Boston.
(He invented new wave music. Dayenu. And thanks. And then he married the second most beautiful woman in the world, and produced many of the best albums of the last 20 years.)
The Del Fucking Fuegos:
Ms. Isabella Stewart Gardner, who did not give many fucks at all:
Buzzy's Roast Beef:
I'll bet that the families sweating out ER waiting rooms at Mass General would love to be able to step out for a roast beef sandwich instead of having a high end converted/prison/club there, but I digress.
And Ty Law, possbily waving to newlyweds and 80 of their nearest and dearest friends gathered at Ground Round?