Ginevra tweeted this last week, and oh my god, when is the last time I thought of Commander Salamander? As an 80s teen in Indiana, I would pore over their catalogs — it made me feel like things besides my day to day high school life, which was (spoiler alert!) not the happiest. Not the saddest, either — jesus, it was just teenage bullshit.
But, do you know what I mean, it made things feel possible.
If any crazy Collier style hoarder still has one of those 80s era catalogs sitting around, send it my way.
OK, so the sketch comedy ensemble known as the Whitest Kids U’ Know made their much anticipated appearance at Cobb’s Thursday night as part of this year’s laugh-packed Sketchfest and the first skit they did was about …Hmm. Well, the subject of that one sure isn’t fit for a family newspaper.
It is probably kind of starfucky to tell you that I went to this show with David, the reviewer, and the first thing we talked about after the show was how the hell was he going to review it for the Chronicle? Because there was a joke that went, like, (I am paraphrasing) “I want to shit in a condom and then fuck you with it.” I am not kidding.
"…filmmaker-director-restaurateur-vintner and man about the arts Francis Ford Coppola talks with writer, editor and food maven Ruth Reichl in the latest issue of the Believer…”We all want the pizza of our childhood,” says Reichl, and Coppola agrees.”
The pizza of my childhood came from I don’t know where, someplace in Newark, maybe? My dad and I would go pick it up, I’d hold it in my lap in the passenger seat of our car (woody station wagon, natch), DYING I wanted to eat it so bad. (The pizza place also had chocolate covered ants for sale, or was that just a joke my dad told me?)
This line, “We all want the pizza of our childhood,” might be the wisest thing I’ve heard in a long time.