Bad, GorBro, Bad.

http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gifClick here for bad news bears. Usually, I am a fervent defender GorBro in the face of DavCam, but this is HOO HAA.

Walter Benjamin on Cupcakes...

I took this pic from Vasco's iphone yesterday.

And then we returned to our discussion of which film is scarier: Funny Games (V. 1.0) or Lost Highway.

News Flash: Kittens soon to be turned into throw pillows and placemats!

Good kittens.



Bad kittens.

All soon to be turned into household accessories.

TEEN GETS HAND MANGLED IN MINGER

or maybe just a mincer. That isn't funny.

HOLY SMOKES! EGGSTRODINARY

So, dear reader, I didn't eat eggs that were eggy (exception, cheese or lemon souffle, of course) until about 2 years ago. My mother's cholesterol fears hooo haa of the 80s and 90s or perhaps memories of my one dear pet chicken, Squeaky, stuck with me until one day there were some ramps and asparagus at the Union Square farmer's market. I made an omelet with roasted asparagus, ramps and parmesan. I've slowly increased my egg rep so it now includes frittatas, quiche, koo koo, fried eggs and poached eggs. There is room to grow; boiled eggs have not yet convinced me. Anyway, now we get our eggs from Stocks Farm through Growing Communities, both at our veg box pick up and at their Stoke Newington Farmers Market. Once you've had these eggs, you'll be eating eggs round the clock. These eggs are pure goodness; I'm sure that the only cholesterol they have is the good one. Didn't Michael Pollan write something about happy, healthy eggs being ok? Hungover, these eggs fried with some bacon and ketchup are positively medicinal. Anyway, we get about 12 eggs a week from these guys. So, we were making dinner. The mister cracked one egg. Then he cracked another. This second egg was EGGSTRODINARY!! NOT ONE YOLK, NOT TWO YOLKS, BUT THREE YOLKS. Look at the pick below. Count the yolks! Count the shells!

Fat Cats, Very good books, and Margaret Howell HQ

Our neighborhood cat just can't get enough!

When I filmed this, I had had enough to drink. Perhaps slightly more than enough at the book party in honor of Cally Blackman's 100 Years of Menswear . It was a lovely soiree at Margaret Howell HQ, which is probably the single best place on earth. Or at least in this country. But I digress. The book is so much better than most fashion books. It is a fabulous collection of images and traces changes in visual culture through menswear. Also, on a pragmatic level, you won't bust the spine on it like I did on that Richard Martin and Harold Koda
Jocks and Nerds: Men's Style in the Twentieth Century. Quick note to Santa: I have already ordered it. Please buy me a new computer instead.
I recommend buying yourself this book:



And buying me this lovely 17 inch Mac Book Pro:

Only Chanel can top the ice cream cup cakes

I've nearly run out of ice cream cupcakes. We will share the last one tonight while finishing Edvard Munch. It has taken us 3 nights of viewing. The fashion is sublime.

More sublime and magical and ridiculous is the SS10 Chanel collection. I've been trying to steal pics to post. But alas it isn't working. So click through here, details as well:
Here!

Back to Munch and the last cupcake.