Yes, I know there are more than a dozen burritos in this picture. Relax.

I think I’m going to go back to doing a Puppy Prize every Thursday.

This way I don’t have to bust my nut trying to find something to write about (oh, you think I enjoy writing about oranges??)

Anyhoo, today’s Puppy Prize is of course from one of my restaurants.  Last week’s 2.0 Liter boot of beer winner to the following question:  ”I need this boot of beer because_____” is:

Poor lil’ guy.

But you seem sweet, Aunt Lizziek1.   Enjoy your boot of beer.  Email me at FridayPuppy@gmail.com and I’ll send you your boot of beer in the mail.

This week’s Puppy Prize is One Dozen Bombers Burritos.

Whatever flavors you want.  Your choice.  You can eat them all yourself.  You can give them to your coworkers.  You can throw them at Republicans.  I don’t really care what you do with them.  

If you would like to win One Dozen Burritos, be the 28th commenter on this post.

I have never felt comfortable looking at this part of the orange.

I consider it to be the “anus” of the orange.  Is that wrong?

However, i do love a good, sweet, juicy orange.  When I was living in the south of Spain (well, la tee dahhh), all my spanish amigos ate oranges after every meal.  I remember thinking, “wait a minute, where’s the Entenmanns?”  But after a few weeks of sticky fingers, I came to really love a good orange after my paella.

My 10 favorite things relating to oranges include:

1. orange tic tacs

2. Orange Juliusesesses

3. Orangina with Ketel One.

4. Tang

5.  Wu-tang

6. Syracuse Orangemen

7. Eating oranges at halftime when I played AYSO soccer.

8.  Orange Emergen-C

9. Orange Crush sody pop.

10.  mimosas w/ veuve clicquot champers

BONUS:  Orange you glad I didn’t say banana?

Earlier today I drove into NYC, and I couldn’t drive down my street because there were police barricades at both ends of 11th street.

I parked along 2nd Avenue, and walked around the corner towards my apartment.

Directly across the street from my apartment door is a 20 story building, and a man jumped off the roof, and killed himself.   Blood was all over the sidewalk.  And there were people cleaning up the mess while 50 people watched.

It was very disturbing, and I can’t stop thinking about it.

Earlier tonight, I smoked a little bit of my friend’s joint, and then, at 1:00am, I went by myself to Times Square to see the lights.

I normally would never even consider going to Times Square, but it seemed like a good idea.

I sat on the steps of some building, next to an old man playing a trumpet for money.   The streets were quiet, for Times Square, and the lights were beautiful.  And during his break, I had a nice conversation with the old man playing the trumpet, while I smoked a cigarette.

New York City.

I’m in a slightly cranky mood, so let that be the reason for most of the following crankiness.

As I’ve said before, when I check my emails each day, there are dozens and dozens of donation and sponsorship requests from alllll sorts of groups.  Most of them aren’t “Hey Matty boy, how are ya!”   but rather, “To Whom It May Concern.”  I am less likely to donate to the latter.

But overall, we give quite a bit of $ away each week, and although it would be nice to give to everyone who emais us with a donation request, it’s just not possible.

Yesterday, I received an email from a lady named Mary (insert irony) from some local church who is organizing a golf tournament.   So, like I do with many religious groups that ask for donations, I asked, “I’d be happy to, but before I give, would you mind telling me your church’s policy on gay marriage?”

To which she replied, “I can tell you that my personal policy is that I support gay marriage, but unfortunately our church’s policy is that they are against it.” and then she told me how she hopes it changes, etc. and she sounded really sweet.

However, I did not give to her church.

She also noted some of the other local businesses who are giving, some of the businesses I recognized as being gay-owned, or owned by gay-friend owners.

Maybe I’m making a big deal out of something that shouldn’t be, but I really take offense to raising money for a church that has these policies.   Yes, I realize these are the policies of MOST church organizations, but maybe these church organizations would change their tune if all of a sudden there was no money coming in.

“Sorry Church, I’d love to help you guys out, but I’m waiting for you to change your gay marriage policy.  Sorry.”  Was that so hard?  And you’d be doing the right thing.

It seems to me that a lot of these homophobic beliefs around the country (North Carolina, Colorado, etc.) are taught IN church, where kids are being told that two men or women who love each other is a sin.  It’s bad.  It’s unnatural.  You’ll burn in hell.

Bullshit.

And honestly, I don’t even know why people would attend a church that doesn’t believe in gay marriage.  I mean, it violates what I consider to be the most fundamental of all religious values… Love Thy Neighbor.  or Do Onto Others.  or whatever you wanna call it.

I mean, c’mon.  Are you telling me that Jesus wouldn’t have loved the gays?   With all those technicolor dream coats?  psh.

Stop giving money to churches that don’t support gay marriage.

I was driving back from NYC last week with my friend Sarah, and her phone rang.

It was her husband, Duncan, but on her caller ID it said, “Duncan or ICE”.

I was like, “ICE??”

She got off the phone, and I was like “Why does it say, ICE?”   And she was like “it stands for In Case of Emergency.”

And then her mother called about 10 minutes later, and her number said, “Mom or ICE”.

I found that to be so sweet and so neurotic.  But I started thinking, does everyone do that?   Cuz I don’t.

Sarah said that the Police recommend putting your In Case of Emergency in your phone as ICE so that they can call the appropriate person… in case there’s an emergency.

Hmmmm.

Three things:

1.)  My In Case of Emergency is still my mom, which is totally depressing.  no offense, Mom.

2.)  My phone requires a security code, so let the record state that my security code is 5-3-0-9.   Because I love the song Jenny and her number is 867-5309.

3.)  If you find me alone, shaking in the corner of my closet with an empty vodka bottle in my hand, don’t freak out and call my mom.  That’s just a normal Sunday night.

I went to Great Barrington (no, silly. not the reef), and to Brimfield, MA this weekend for their antique show.

The fair was great, and there were tons of people.   I wish I had more time and patience to walk around and enjoy it for a full day.

HOWEVER, I wish people would STOP bringing their dogs and their babies in strollers to festivals.  It stresses out the dogs, and babies should stay where they belong… in the car with the window cracked.

The photos above are :

1.) a photo I took of the hillside in Great Barrington.

2.)  A painting of a pig which I bought for my kitchen  and

3.)  a van full of chairs we bought for The Olde English Pub because, after too many pickle back shots, people like to plop down on our rickety old chairs like they’re made from titanium, and we needed replacement chairs.