Archive | April, 2008

YouTube…

30 Apr

Im sure every person that happens upon this blog has seen at least 27 videos on youtube in the last week. They are great. Funny. Even hilarious. But i cant help but notice that a large amount of them, especially the ones that are excerpts from the news, contain videos of black ppl doin real ignorant stuff. And to make matters worse, its often kids. “Bubb Rubb”, the “bitch gimme my change”. The list is endless. I just received one today about some seven year old kid who stole a car. The sad thing is i CANT be mad at the people in the videos, or the people watching the videos or even the news for putting the stories on. Its a perpetual circle of ignorance. When a 17 yr old who is left in charge of two kids, and has probably been smoking weed since he was 10, teaches his 5 yr old cousin to smoke, its not acceptable. But no one gets to why. its “O god, this is despicable” or ” how irresponsible is he”. But the fact of the matter is that we are not talking abt a well educated person, like the person who is actually watching the video. We are talkin about someone who probably never considered the health risks of Weed and smoking for that matter. We are talking about someone who probably never envisioned themselves living past their teenage years, never envisioned themselves truly as an adult. This is not to make an excuse for inexcusable behavior. But its to look at this behavior with perspective. Living in a situation as deplorable as that, taking on adult responsibilities when you are only a child, those of systematic flaws, flaws that need to be handled communally. AND i mean the American community. I see, daily, french babies, waiting on line for a falafel, for a movie, in the arms of loved ones, surrounded by clouds of smoke. This is just a deplorable to me. This has the same amount of consciousness that that 17 year old probably had. And ive seen it in America too. To highlight one and not the other just puts more depth to the circle. The more you call someone an idiot, a no good, a thief, the more they are gonna say fuck it, i might as well since your gonna think it of my daily. Im just venting my frustration with the fact that people will sit here and laugh and belittle some people that are just ignorant, in the dictionary definition. They have not been fully taught what they should or should not be doing. But we want to hold them to the same standards. Standards of education and knowledge that the country denies them. When all a seven year old wants to do is do “bad stuff” and “hood rat stuff with his friends” thats a societal problem and a problem of influence that more people need to take on their shoulders. You cant blame the mom who works all day at a minimum wage job just to make ends meet. Who had a baby cause she thought it was the only way she could keep her lover around. A lover who never considered living to be old enough to have a family before ended up dead or in jail like his male family and friends. The whole system is fucked. And it makes a gigantic downward spiral that takes a super human effort to avoid all alone. Its time for a CHANGE.

Pac said it in 92…. and 16 years later we have the same problems… and we want to blame the victims…

…Just Gimme a TASTE

29 Apr

Mid-April means one thing… NBA playoffs. Since, as i have touched on previously, life in Paris is tremendously hard, i have no veritable access to NBA games, not to mention that they come on at 2330 or 1130 pm at the earliest. This leaves me in a terrible position since i like to catch the lakeshow on the lateshow since the west coast games usually come on around 1030 when im at school (at Amherst) and are always the later games. But, as i wondered aimlessly around a certain Canadian bar named after an animal from Rocky N Bullwinkle, there was a break through. First, i caught a glimpse, NBA stats central. The channel that every satellite tv provider has around playoff time. Scores and times for games to come, everything in EST, of course. So i went back to my table, consulted with Tim, and tired to figure out what time in Paris EST was. As we concluded that it was not a time close to ours, which was 1 am, we headed for the exit. Then a scream. from me. and a perplexed look from tim. As he turned the corner in the L shaped bar, he was enlightened and screamed as i did. There it was 6-2 Philly over the Pistons in the first quarter. Finally, i got my taste. Tim and I sat, ordered some more beer, and watched to our hearts content. As we watch the first half unfold, we decided that, since the game would not be over till about 3, we were going to leave after the first half. Two min left. Then disaster. There was no volume, so we sat and watched a few clips from WIRED, the portion where u can hear what the player/coaches are saying. It was reggie evans, who has the smallest ears ever, talking to referee Joey Crawford about an earlier call. As big ass reggie slapped Crawford on the butt, the screen froze. There i was, thinkin the night would be great, catch some hoop, chicken wings (ya crazy i found some quasi-real chicken wings in paris) and i was left without my last two mins and with the image of Reggie Evans cupping another mans butt etched in my mind. As it is, life is truly a struggle in Paris. Tant Pis!


I really dont think we moved the whole first half, cept for a TayPrince dunk

Life Retroed: On se Revoit sur [la terrace]

27 Apr

When i was down in Nimes, i also had the gastronomical pleasure of enjoying the best lunch of my entire time in France. We were dropped off, as a group, in the center of the town/city (im not sure wat the people there call it but i would say it was a town after a spring football workout at best) and told to ravage the place for its gastronomical exploits. As our motley crew, consisting of carnivores and me, the picky chicken guy, girls who wanted to sit outside, and boys who wanted to eat fast, made the rounds we were having a very hard time finding someplace where everyone wanted to eat. Then, tout a coup, i looked up in the sky, not a bird nor a place, but yes, a terrace, with an interesting looking cafe on top. What i was actually looking at was the museum cafe at the Musée Carré D’Art, the modern art museum of Nimes. As i convinced everyone to go up to the cafe and eat, I passed through the museum and was privy to a pretty nice Wolf Vostell exhibit. The lunch, after a 30 min wait, was everything we could have asked for. Relatively cheap prices (relative to Paris) delicious food, housemade foie gras (prepared two ways), entrecote and some delicious chicken skewers with potatoes o gratin and Bernaise sauce (which i ate). I would have pictures of the food but we all we so hungry that when it came we ate it too fast for any pictures to be taken. With this being said, if ur ever in Nimes, its a sure bet that u should hit up the terrance at the Musée Carré cause its poppin. Off top.

How excited is she? Super Duper excited

JayHova… living the vicarious life

22 Apr

Since my life sucks real hard and im stuck out here in Paris, i couldnt make it back to the bay to catch Glow in the Dark n Heart of the City back to back… I just hope there is another chance for me to catch Jay cause im looking out for that Glow in the summer in LA or SJ. Here are some pics courtesy of spike… the fam since i was knee hi to a grasshopper. If anyone should go besides me, it is her so its not that bad. N no, she is not the greek from TOPchef….Anyway, tha man is the GOAT… if u dont kno how deep jay is then u dont know hip[hop].

Cant Argue with the hand…. that man set us back 40years at least.

“this concert was not sponsored in any way by barack obama im just ready for change” Hov..

Dinner Impossible©: TwentiFirst

21 Apr

MRinternational hit 21 a couple weeks ago. Since we are in Europe, it would normally be a pretty regular night. In order to avoid this regularity and normalness, Yim and I decided to put together a real nice dinner party Chez Madame Linyer. In order to complete the Dinner Impossible, ala Robert Irvine, I had to first create a Menu. I was thinking of something good, hearty and filling. Being the fanatic of hearty homemade meals that i am, I turned to the trusty Chicken Parm with homemade Marinara. Once i had decided on this delicacy, meaning once i imagined it in my head and then was forced to make it because my vivid imagination would make me crave that dish until i ate it, i realized that the frying might be slightly time consuming, and might thusly slow down my dinner. The solution. Light Bulbs. There it was, my famous Minestrone Soup. It comes from a recipe I adapted out of a Williams-Sonoma kids cookbook i received for xmas many years back. Chicken Minestrone with
6 cups chicken stock
6 medium garlic cloves, each cut in 1/2 lengthwise
2 cups finely chopped yellow onions (2 small onions)
1 cup small-diced green bell peppers 1good sized pepper
1 cup small-diced carrots (2 to 3 medium carrots)
1 tablespoon finely chopped rosemary
1 (14-ounce) can kidney beans in a can unflavored
1 (14 1/2-ounce) can diced tomatoes
1 Box ridged small pasta of choice
1 lb chicken breast.
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
and 1 cup freshly grated Parmesan. Through the Parms on top of some pasta and make a lil salad to start and u have a menu. I then needed to go shopping. Then problem. First, my recipe i had written down was in cups and pounds, but europe does not get down with cups or pounds. Solution, call me English friend from Amherst for conversions. Then, problem two, No Breadcrumbs at the store. Solution, toast bread and make them urself. This being the first time i was cooking dinner for 30ppl, i was slightly unaware yet aware of how long it was going to take to shop, but after a 200euro+ bill, an hr15 in the Carrefour and a stolen shopping cart to push the food home, i was ready to cook. Well, I was ready to prepare. Armed with some amateur sous chefs, I began the cutting. And the cutting. AND the cutting. There were the peppers, carrots, onions and garlic for the soup and then the salad fixins. Not to mention the heap of chicken i had to cut and pound out for the soup n the parms. Meanwhile, I had someone crumbing the bread i was broiling in the oven and some other ppl cutting various things. Once i got the Marinara sauce up, which consisted of
3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
1 small onion, diced
4 cloves garlic, chopped
2 teaspoons dried oregano seasonings
7 cups whole, peeled, canned tomatoes in puree (about 2 (28-ounce cans), roughly chopped
1 tablespoon kosher salt
and Freshly ground black pepper,
I moved to the soup. First, season and cook 1lb of chicken breast cubes in the bottom of a large large pot with the onions and peppers. Once the chicken is white on all sides add the tomatoes, chicken stock and everything else. Then cook for 40 mins. Salt and Pepper to taste.
Once that was going i started to smell a slight burn. I was wondering what it was, thinking something was on the bottom of pot or something. As the order became stronger and stronger, i realized that the burning was the oven, still filled with bread, and on fire. I opened the oven, smoke filled the room, and put out the fire. Luckily, we had enough breadcrumbs to still cook the chicken. O yea, and the house didnt burn down, thats good too. Then to the chicken. Dip it low in some eggs, then dredge in a mixture of breadcrumbs salt pepper dried oregano and thyme. Then to the frying pan, filled halfway wit some veggie oil. Fry fry, flip, fry. By then, the salad had been served by a sous chef and the soup was already coming out the kitchen. As soon as the chicken were ready, things started to move like clockwork. Spagetti on bottom, topped with chicken, topped with sauce, topped with mozarella. Delicious. Wait, i forgot to mention that at this point it was 23:30. And the party started at 21:00. This meant that people were drinking, socializing, and partying, all the while i am in the kitchen, solo by this point since my sous get distracted by some hot french boys n left, still smelling terrible from playing basketball earlier and in my hoop clothes.
In the end, the party was great, the food better, and i successfully cooked the largest meal of my life. It was a great time and i received rave reviews from a tough (as usual) french crowd, as well as some appreciative and hungry Americans. Once again happy Birfday tim and Bon Apetit to you all.

SO much for aprons…

Dont get it {Twisted}… welcome to the DubUNO club

Life Retroed: Flamingo or is it Flamenco

16 Apr

Back back back, a couple of three seven weeks ago, when i went to Province, we had a very nice traditional Camargaise dinner of bull stew and traditional rice. I had some weird potato casserole. Apparently the french are new to this vegetarian thing so when i put that on my app for the trip they thought that meant i didnt eat cheese in the first course but that i did only in the second course. Pretty silly if u ask me. Sometimes its vegan, sometimes its veggie, sometimes its a lil meat sauce. They are all confused. Silly carnivores. Anyway, i found myself, hungry, staring at a bottle of wine NYU paid for and listening to a Flamenco band. This posed a linguistic problem for me because, being for the same sect as MRint. i didnt know wat language to speak to the Band members in. French? makes sense since we were in france. Spanish? Since we were listening to Spanish music, singing in spanish, that makes senses too. Or english, cause they knew i was american so they spoke to me in semi comprehensible english. Either way, wine, counselors a lil bit on, and spanish music make for a memorable night in the south of France.


N see, we saw some flamingos too… ha


(btw: mia got gigs)

The BITCHassNESS

16 Apr

Call it what you want to call it, but as funny as it was when diddy made up that ludicrous word, he really hit the needle on the head. The BITCHassNESS is everywhere, in every sense. Ppl have been doin Bitch shit for years. Thats not even was astonishes me. What astonishes me, is that so many, so many, cerebral, supposed intellectuals have caught the bitchassness cause they cannot see themselves. They have no perspective. They dont understand that you need to have to luxury to catch the bitchassness. Some ppl, some places cant afford to catch the bitchassness cause they will end up with their face on a white t. Period. So if u even have the luxury to catch, and on top of that ur supposed to be smarter than ur average thug, drug pusher, dope dealer, nigga, they y dont u act smart n realize wat ur doin. NO BITCHASSNESS (period)

{Everybody} wants GUAC

16 Apr

I have spent a good portion of my time in Paree, looking, searching, digging for a hot pepper. Habanero, jalapeno, something. No go. So, me being the mover and the shaker that I am, i set out to hotify some peppers on my own. The best pepper i could find was a pasilla chili pepper, which isnt even hot enough to have a rating in scoville heat units but no need to fear, the capsaicin will b added manually. I, first, chopped the peppers up as i would have had i had some jalapenos, in small bits, akin to the size when dicing a clove of garlic. I then placed those bits in a bowl, drown them in a mixture of Tabasco, Louisiana Cayenne Pepper Sauce, dried Cayenne pepper and crushed red chili flakes. I let the mixture sit for a good twenty, to allow the hot to seep into the hot so hot peppers. Meanwhile, i made the rest of the guac real mexi style, as the mexicans i live with in sf taught me (Yea, yo vivo en la casa de locos, wit the mexicans) real chucky. Take 4 avocados, a tomato, some salt, a hint of garlic and a hint hint of water and some cilantro. Since i despise cilantro (though my gag reflex likes it), i left it out of the recipe. Dice the tomtoms dice the avocados and then mush them up a lil with a fork. By that time the peppers were manually spiced. Add them and mix together with the said fork and voila, BONapetit.

Still Young at Heart.

12 Apr

In the infinite follies that comprise the life of tha giant, there are many awkward or hilarious or unusual situations, depending on how you want to look at it, last night being another one of those. I found myself chez MRinternational, at his host moms house, at seventy year-old widow, who, from time to time, hosts soirees for a rich older singles club she belongs to. I figured i could help out on a couple levels, one being helping Madame with her cocktails, champagne and hors d’oeuvres, and two, helping Tim not fight the potentially awkward situation on his own. The soirée was ala House Party, dj, disco lights and a bar. Well, expect that the drinks were top of the line champagne n not 40z of Steel Reserve. U could feel the young vibe as the CongaTrain went through the house. As the night played continued it ended up being pretty fun. Good champagne=good times. I think it was Descartes who discovered that equation. Or maybe Pythagoras. Either way, it was good to see the oldies being goodies n continuing to have fun. And apparently you can swing dance to Timbo beats too… who knew.

What can i say, them old frenchies know their swing

Where’s Waldo (Hint: hes in the ugliest {vest} i have ever seen)

Yea, thats a bathtub full of champagne. And it didnt even last through the night.

Unforgivable.

All photos courtesy of Timothy Kau. For more looks at the party visit the Online Album

Movin Cool, SpeakinEasy.

10 Apr

In my experience, the french, or at least Parisians, have a very exclusive and private culture, A culture that they are rather unwilling to share with the outside world. This is not to say that u cannot feel paris when u come to france, not at all. There are things abt paris that are also very accessible. But paris is a city with a dual nature. There is the paris that is much like new york, that is accessible, that it offers to anyone that wants to participate. But, below the surface, there lies another paris, the paris behind the snickers and the stares, the paris where the Parisian himself lives, and not the person living in paris. The paris of that knows abt roissy and remembers beaubourg. This duality makes me think that, you could live here for months, maybe even years, and never really meet a parisian, especially when u have a penis. U can go all this time, without finding yourself in a truly parisian social enviroment. And thats just how paris likes it, paris will not let u in without ur invite, if ur not on “LA LISTE” or with a parisian that will vouch for u, your “foutu”. But, once u can get it, its a real special thing.

With all this being said, I have a good bruh, Yim, Mr. International, that has snaked his way in. This left us, the day after his bday party, still tipsy from last night, heading out into the world once again, off to meet some parisian bruhs at dude Nico’s house. As i later learned, in class, when a parisian invites you to his house, its serious. So, we found ourselves deep into the circle. All fun n good times, we followed this etudiants de film around paris. We were walking up this street for wat seemed like forever when we rolled up to wat seemed to be a restaurant under renovation. No chairs, no tables, freshly painted walls. An empty room. With the lights on and the door open though. I, being the leo that i am, found myself up in the front, so i proceeded in, through the room, into the back and then down the stairs. As i descended, I heard a lil bass, and then turned a corner and found myself in a speakeasy. Crazy. Bar clandestine, Illegal. whatever they called it, it was nutz. Cans of beer, corner store prices, and old french men, a sweet dance to the sound of a man on an ipod. I found myself filled with excitement because i was really in a “two days in paris” party. A real french social place. If u work ur way in, its worth it. a whole lotta fun. and ill leave it at that… HA

Old french bruhs, in there… n the corner store clerks/bartenders in the back.. n the bar (they even have fresh simosas)

David… the true fam… much amour por this guy

JEJE… future internationally known director…

MRinternational

PS: this was also my first time with a real camera… im tryin to get my bars up… let me kno how it went…

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