I Wasn't Looking for Him, But I Found Ray Liotta in Portage Park

With Goodfellas 2: Revenge of the Gumod nowhere in sight, Ray Liotta is apparently the new Michael Myers.

I can't, however, explain the pajamas...

Don't Put Off That Sightseeing Trip to DC

Seen outside the Thurgood Marshall ballroom at the Marriott Wardman Park hotel in Washington, DC: Einstein and the Iwo Jima flag raising rendered in delicious chocolate.

Not seen: Stephen Hawking and the liberation of Paris made out of Gummi Bears.

Kraft Really Needs to Talk to Parents Before They Do Something Like This

Available at your local supermarket (at least at mine): a beverage that finally reminds you of that greatest moment of labor, the rupturing of the amnion.

An endorsement opportunity of a lifetime awaits Cherry Waves, if only she would stop doing porn.

How to Make $40 in 20 Seconds

My sister got married two weekends ago. It was a great wedding, and while I'm proud of my 4 month old daughter Georgia and how well she traveled from Chicago to New Jersey, I'm even more proud of my 15 year old son Latham and how he realized that 20 seconds of potential embarrassment is well worth $40.

The deal: I put up $20, my cousin's husband put up another $20, and Latham had to dance with his grandmother for 20 seconds and 1) bust out the robot and 2) work in some Elaine-dancing-on-Seinfeld moves. Oh, and he had to let us film it and put in on this here blog:



In retrospect, I'm not sure we should have given him full credit for the Elaine moves, but the robot (and the fact that he waited for the band to play "Pick Up the Pieces") makes up for it.

Well played, Latham, and may you some day find another job that pays you the equivalent of $7,200 per hour. Just make sure it's legal.

The Best Car Air Freshener *Ever*?

New Jersey, how I love you...

I Have Seen the Future of Food, and It Is Round

I have seen the future of food. It is spherical; it is puffy; it is delicious. It is the Pancake Puff:


My son Latham and I enjoy a good infomercial. He's partial to the Magic Bullet, which we've not yet purchased, as we like salsa well enough but don't need to make it in eight seconds.

This, however, is different. Pancakes? Yum. Pancake spheres? You bet.

Not to jump too far ahead, but it's a really good thing this thing works (and works deliciously), as my squeals of delight upon seeing this fine bit of kitchenware in Target woke our 3-month-old daughter from a much-needed nap. Wifey shot me a look but cautiously accepted that the promise of having pancake puffs that very day would be worth having a crying infant in the car on the way home. Looking back, I think she shot me a look. I'm not really sure, as I was running toward the cash registers with debit card in one hand and my deluxe Pancake Puffs set in the other as soon as I woke the baby up. And I'm not really sure about this either, but I think we were supposed to buy something else. Wifey Honey Baby, didn't we need diapers?


As you can see, the Pancake Puff pan is a handsome gadget, a nonstick-coated cast iron pan with 7 wells. It's also got a cast iron handle that reaches flesh-melting temperatures in seconds, but the good people at Pancake Puff Industries have that covered. If you're a high roller like me, you go for the deluxe kit, which includes a goo injector, "flipping sticks" (also known as wood skewers), and a lovely red quilted handle cozy, photographic evidence of which is below.


To make pancake puffs, you need to place your faith in physics. Fill the wells 3/4 full with pancake batter, wait until the edges set up, and then apply the awesome flipping power of the flipping sticks to invert the puff cooked side up and gooey side down:


Set aside your flipping sticks as the power of gravity takes over, pulling the uncooked batter down onto the hot surface of the pan. Wait a few seconds and you've got seven of the finest pancake balls you've ever had.




This is no Hawaii Chair, my friends. This is no Mighty Putty. This is proof that God is real and he eats nothing but round food.

UPDATE: It's been pointed out that the Pancake Puff is actually an Æbleskiver in disguise. I still believe in its deliciousness, even if my belief in American ingenuity has taken a bit of a hit.

Buy the Pancake Puff pan from Amazon.com

I Wanna Rock and Roll All Night, and Keep My Pants Up Every Day

Mother Sullivan strikes again.

Some of you might remember what my mother brought me from the Sullivan Archives on her last trip -- turns out a few of you were fans of The Book of Lists as well. She's not been back, but that didn't stop her from sending along another prized possession from my childhood.

Other boys had posters of Farrah Fawcett on their bedroom walls; I had Kiss posters. Other boys stayed up watching HBO hoping to see a second or two of boobs; I stayed up watching Kiss lip-sync on Don Kirshner's Rock Concert (well, when there weren't any boobs to see). The songs were pre-recorded, but the flash pots sure as hell were real, and staying up to watch it was worth every bleary-eyed second on Sunday morning.

This belt buckle (dated 1977 on the underside) no doubt came from one of Poughkeepsie, New York's finer head shops. If you're not old enough to remember strip-mall head shops, your life isn't as rich as it could be. Sorry, but it's true. I don't know where you spent 85% of your allowance, but mine went straight into Gene Simmons' pockets and up Peter Criss' nose.

Intense as my obsession was (this is far from the only Kiss belt buckle I owned -- Mom, WTF?) it didn't last forever. Kiss soon gave way to the Talking Heads and the Clash and the Ramones and to bands that I still listen to 30 years later. But I don't remember them having gear this awesome.