The Kid Stays In The Pictures.

His code of ethics is strong. He never bothers them while they're eating. Doesn't call them at home. He never gossips about their secrets. The kid's got integrity.

I, on the other hand, don't. So, when I saw this web-celeb stroll his way into the restaurant I was eating at, I needed to snap a shot, because who would believe me?

Jeremy's a charmer. I can see why he's a celebrity favorite. After his father snapped the shot, Jeremy thanked *me by name*. Flattery - thy name be Jeremy.

Anybody who's anybody is taking a picture with Jeremy, including Jimmy Smits; Robin Williams along with David Duchovny (which is a bizarre photo to begin with); Lenny Brisco (Cause let's face it, that's his name now); and many many others.

This kid hasn't gotten his "deal" yet. I don't think he's looking for one. But here's hoping that if it does happen, caution reigns supreme, cause it never works out. Remember Mahir's deal with the now defunct xoom.com and Ghyslain's whole situation.

Link: www.whoisthatwithjeremy.com -- Well, it's me!

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The New Commute-tion.

Things I learned on the way to an office today:

The Jews for Jesus take Friday off. They need a break from leaflette distribution.

"Candy" by Cameo is one of the best songs ever written in the history of time.

A man can own a $400 briefcase and wear a $100 suit with a $10 tie.

There is a nail salon on 41st street with 30 severed hands in the window.

I have exited Grand Central Station a different way every day this week, and none of those times was the exit any closer to my destination.

Security at this building is so bad, that they have people fake scanning their IDs at a scan station with no scanner.

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This one's called "Grapefruit Affliction."

Having not been at home for the last few days, upon opening the fridge I realized that among my many other OCDesque problems I've developed a new one: When I go shopping I must buy a grapefruit.

I never eat them. I'm not sure how much I generally like them. But every time I come home with the golden softball. The sad truth is, I want to eat it. I want all of it's healthful benefits. But I need a no-muss-no-fuss fruit with the same appeal.

I have resorted to the Black Forest Gummy variety of grapefruit flavor. The unique taste of these gummy makes me feel better that I'm not eating actual grapefruit because these taste so close. And nutritious? Forget about it. They pack a whopping 1% of my recommended daily allowance of vitamin C. Eat 4 whole bags and that's a 4oz glass of OJ!

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Michigan: Teh Sex.

New York is known for being a launching pad for the latest and greatest in fashion trends. And I'd like to think, in this case, I was ahead of the trend. That's right, New York has discovered Michigan. While shopping in our local Old Navy, I came across this Ode to Michiganensium.

Clearly, I was able to recognize the outlines of that glorious state. But the shirt makes no mention of it, referring rather to Lake Erie, which if memory serves me right, is the aqua minora of Michigan's enormous coastline. Furthermore, I'm pretty sure the clerks in the store had no idea what that was.

We swiftly bought the shirt in honor of our alma mater. But beware Michigan readers. You thought having one New Yorker was bad, but wait until the rest of them get wind of your Art Fairs, your German Parks and your Figure Eight School Bus Racing.

If I were you, I would start marking up my prices now.

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Review - Glazed and Confused.

After receiving two separate, unsolicited pings about the same article in CNN's Money section, I felt it was my duty to report to my faithful readers what Krispy Kreme had in their minds when they created the Frozen Blends.

At 440 calories, and 70g of sugar for 12oz, I promise you, dear reader, I wasn't taking last night's events lightly. Rolling up to my church of confection I had only heard the rumors -- "It tastes just like a doughnut" -- but would they be true?

Being the purist that I am, I ordered the "Original Kreme" - straight up (You can get a shot of coffee in there). The clerk walks a blender jar over to a console with a bunch of holes in it, pulls off one of the caps, and starts shoveling in what looks like angel food cake mix. She moves over to the blending contraption, places the jar down and hits "Go." A merry-go-round of ice circles the machine as it pours out shaved ice into the already blending blender. It would be soon.

$2.67 has changed hands, and it is mine. I retreat to the safety of the pre-stickied tables and gaze into the beverages depths. My first sip.....

If ever there was a product befitting the colloquialism 'suck sh*t through a tube,' I have found it. Like Cortez, I have found something unique and magical. The texture is like an Icee, crunchy and poised to brain freeze. The taste - well, it's a mix between Betty Crocker Frosting and Milk Of Magnesia, and to tell you the truth, I would have been better off, biologically and calorically, if it was.

I only made it this far into the beverage before I felt the need to cut it, like a fine narcotic, with a 220 calorie double chocolate brownie doughnut and a glass of water.

Bottom line: I'm still recovering. It's gonna be a long road, but I'm committed. [Via George and Alex F. with special thanks to Jeremy and Amber]

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DIY - Evicting Unwanted Houseguests

Señor Cockroach has plagued my apartment. He and his 10,000 buddies have been kings of the kitchen for far to long.

We must defeat them.

Failure is not an option, the exterminator is not an option, and moving is not an option. We must, therefore, take matters into our own hands. With that, I give you - Roach Eviction - The DIY.

Materials:
Seeing that I've tried all conventional approaches in killing Sr. Roach, it was time for me to get scientific on his thorax. Raid will kill on contact, but who's got the time to wait around for roaches to walk by. Those bait traps work...barely. The only way to get them out...is to use chemical warefare.

Here's the list and your visual checklist:

1. Drill with the smallest bit you can get - If all else fails, you can drill them to death.
2. 
   
3. Small shampoo bottle, empty and clean
4. 
   
5. Boric Acid - 100% acid man, none of that sissy 40% B.S.
6. 
   
7. Flash Light - for looking for the buggers or their poop
8. 
   
9. Rubber gloves and a mask - depending on how you feel about boric acid
10. 
    
11. Glue Board - These barely work too. But they are better than bait traps.

All told you should have spent under 10 bucks on the weaponry. If you've spent more you might be at Gracious Homes.

Prep:
Drill some tiny holes into the top of the shampoo bottle. Any one who read my previous article about Gold Bonds Medicated Powder, and took that article to heart will know where this hole-punching idea is going. Once the holes have been drilled, begin filling the bottle with the boric acid until you are about 3/4 of the way from the top. Close the shampoo bottle, and wash up, cause that boric acid sucks.

Pro Tip: Oh and if you're doing this at the same time your reading, next time wear the mask and gloves.

Plan of attack and implementation:
Using your trusty flashlight, find where those roaches are congregating. You can usually recognize their hideouts by their poop lying around. Ah yes...roach poop...looks like pepper.

Begin by holding the bottle in such a way that with a quick squeeze you can get a burst of powder in a cloud like form. The goal here is to create a incredibly thin layer of dust on the floor for the roach to walk through. If the piles are too big, they will walk right around it. The boric acid is pretty much perminent so you don't need to add or replace it unless the area gets wet. Oh, and if your following along at home, you should have used your mask prior to this step.

Pro Tip: Since Boric acid goes to work on the roach nervous system, don't use this method on counter tops, around pet food bowls or on sandwiches. For those areas, use the glue board.

The Pro's Secrets: Though the glue board smells like vanilla candy, it's not. And is it very sticky, my my, veeery sticky...trust me.

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Advertisement: Jellicle Balls.

Right before I got married, my best man pulled me aside and gave me some sage-like advice that I have tried to hold near and dear to my heart. I have tried to pass on this knowledge to those open to his teachings. And now, with the summer heat beating down upon us...it is time!

Gold Bond Medicated Powder has been around for ages, applying the tingling good feeling to all those whom bask in it's cloudy splendor. You might recognize it's advertising campaign if you've been home during The Price is Right or the Showtime Rotisserie Grill program.

The powder causes a cool, drying, tingling sensation to where ever it's put. With over *2* uses, I highly recommend Gold Bonds Medicated Powder for those hot days, those not so fresh days, and those I need a good tingling feeling days.

I keep mine right next to my Craftmatic Adjustable Bed.

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Scare Tactics in New Hampshire.

Of all the slogans to come from the mouths of our First Ladies, Nancy Reagan's "Just Say No" was one of the best. Not to be confused with Nike's "Just Do It" of course.

Storyland, in scenic Glen, New Hampshire took that message to heart. With the wonders of modern science by way of The Charles Cheese School of Animatronics, Storyland has produced a message driving sing-a-long for children about drugs and their harmful effects.

In the history of public service announcements about drugs, it never dawned on me that a cross-dressing broccoli, donning a pink trench coat, gold boots and a pair of sunglasses from the H. Lewis and The News private collection, would be the best spokesperson for that particular information. The jerry curl style haircut and pimp medallion not withstanding, unless this mustard-family member is supposed to represent a possible future on drugs, he might confuse more kids then help them.

It's not so much how he's dressed, nor is it the femininity of the outfit juxtaposed with the masculinity of his voice(?), it's more that he is the only character dressed like some Liberacé side dish. He sticks out like some sort of Veggie Tales cast member incognito, and it's not clear if he got the memo about the theme.

I guess The Bears That Sing For Duke weren't available. Doo Dah, Doo Dah. [Via Peter]

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Review - The Biz Takes A Dive.

Who: Biz Markie
Where: The Southpaw, Brooklyn.

The Jester of Rap, or "Clown Prince of Hip Hop" as Time Out New York described him played to a sub-capacity crowd tonight where onlookers were hoping for more. That's right, somebody has beat The Biz. Apprently, according to the barmaid, playing "the diva," The Biz was tired and didn't want to headline.

His warm-up, MC-Who-Gives-A-Crap, stank up the room so bad that one gentlemen commented, as the room went quiet, "Biz - You gotta save us!" And it looked like he might.

Twenty minutes later, he's gone. Four songs and he clears out. They bring out this Daniel Merriweather fella who sucked sh*t through a tube. Of course the room began to clear despite rumors The Biz might return for an encore.

The evening was filled with 20's. 20 bucks for tickets. 20 minutes to get there. 20 minutes of The Biz. And 20 seconds before I hated Daniel Merriweather and all the pomp and circumstance that went into his introduction.

Biz, ya did me wrong. Let's not let that happen again.

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Review - Anchor-ham.

Let me start off by saying I love Will Farrell, and his style of comedy is brilliant. He and Adam McKay, who writes for SNL, co-wrote the script. I believe that this was McKay's directorial debut. Soooo, how do I describe it...

Each joke in this film is a warm up for the next, so while no one joke is absolutely hilarious, you pretty much laugh throughout. There are a couple of humdingers, and the improv is good, though somewhat obvious or forced. The Daily Show's Steven Carrell is in tip-top shape playing his dead-pan style that we loved when he was still on TDS. And there are a few well placed cameos that are sprinkled throughout that got some "oohs" and "aah"s from the audience.

Overall, this movie is one that you would find hilarious the first time, but if you ever saw it again you wouldn't necessarily laugh as much or as loud. The jokes are all over the place and the plot is terribly thin, so film doesn't know if it's a mocumentary or a plot driven "piece".

Bottom Line: Anchorman () is teh funny, and will keep you laughing, even though you won't care what's going on. At $10.25 a ticket, I wouldshould have rented it.

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Mind The Gap.

Far be it from me to challenge the authority of an important member of our commerce infrastructure, but I felt it was my civic duty to question a questionable policy of my local Gap.

I recently visited the moderate priced clothier to bask in the rays of their summer sale. Joined by my friend Darren and wife Susana, we were seen entering the establishment Thursday evening. Deciding to capture the wacky moment for posterity, I proceeded to take a "snap-shot" of Darren among a particularly leggy section of the women's department. We were busted. So, so busted.

An employee informed me, "You can't take pictures here."

"Why?" - Bad move.

"Store policy. You aren't allowed to take pictures in the store"

"What's the policy?"

"Not that you care, but we'll get fired, so pictures aren't allowed. Why were you taking pictures anyway?"

He had a point. Was he keen to my nefarious plan to bootleg outgoing Gap styles in a variety of colors in order to make a profit? Could my camera, and the shooting therewith truly have been the end of his employment? Was it worth the risk?

I understand that stores in the past might have been concerned about people stealing their designs. Heck, I ripped off this table design. But when you place the designs on the web, available to anyone with a 14.4 modem, I hardly see how stopping me in my general merriment from shooting a important memory would prevent widespread black market capris.

I encountered the same problem as a West Elm in DUMBO, Where again, I asked "why?" To tell you the truth, they don't expect to be challenged. It was interesting to see him come back after taking a step away. The policy is the gospel, The Gospel According to Retail.

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