H is for Hoo Dat?!?!?

Hoo Dat!! Who Dat!! What's the difference? Really. Tomato, tomahto. Might as well be H is for How late?? Too late. A little black and gold for the N'awlins famo. Had to support a great city. Was there in 2000 for Mardi Gras and I really don't remember much, but I know we had a good time. Drinking apple Boon's (Ghostface would be proud) outside the Boot at 11 am. It doesn't get any better. Plus do you really think I'd root for an Indiana team? You my friend must be bugging. As in "shall we daaaaaaaance" bugging. That's how I was taught the term back in 7th grade by my classmate Jersen. I must say that in hindsight, his example was spot on, though at the time I thought HE was bugging.



Yes, the hat is fly. Thank you. There's really no denying it. Shine blocker status for the H-aters. Ooooooweeee. Black sheen with the gold stitch Olde English H and majestic purple trim. Fuck a Saint, I'm a king in this shit. Crown Royal on the rocks please. 2 cubes.



And the Egyptian silk lining??? Seriously? Hawaiian flag Hermes scarves covering the cranium. It's that crazy. "H is for High sadity" is more like it. A Fitted Hawaii exclusive and probably the most expensive cap I ever copped. "A man's wealth is determined by his headwear," as muttered by Howfresh on February 18, 2010. This cross country and then some shipping is not a good look for my carbon footprint. Need to work on that. Strap a waterproof pack to a humpback whale as he's about to migrate east. I'd prefer a Panama Canal crossing, but if he chooses the Chile and Argentine scenic route, who am I to tell a whale how to swim?



H is also for HSIFWARC. While we're bigging up N'awlins it's an appropriate time to pay homage to one of my favorite things- crawfish. I'll admit that they've been few and far between this season. Had them only once in fact. At Mara's of course. Shipments have been sparse since the weather's been a bit too cold down south. The mudbugs stay bugging in the mud. Might need to plant some up in Inwood Park just so that I won't be lying when I brag about my locavore lifestyle. Yeah, I love this planet more than you.



So let's take a stroll down memory lane. It's May 24, 2009 we're on the east side- 23rd and the FDR- Solar 1 (the City’s first solar-powered “Green Energy, Arts, and Education Center,”) and the boil is boiling. The official 2009 Crawfish NY NOLA boil. $60 beans for Six Point kegs and all the crawdoggies one could dream of. Believe it or not- this glustacean resulted in No Mas status. The white flag had to be raised. Pinching, twisting, sucking, and chomping had to come to an end.



In total 4 heaping table loads of the delectable fresh water treat were delivered by the time the sun set. Some with corn and potatoes, other had potatoes and sausage. Mushrooms, garlic and onions were also part of the mix. The combos were endless. Factorial that shit and let me know the math. When people saw we were potatoed up they tried to swipe a spud, but we weren't having that. Get your own fucking potato.



Just mad fun- social even if you're Hermit the Crab. See how we stick to H's and shellfish. Keep up with me. Don't get dusted. Wound up meeting some good peoples that turned out to be fellow Partners in Grub. P.I.G. status. Don't judge them by their offensive t-shirts. They mean well. And mad Asians- they love crustaceans. For realz. Gnawing on the tiny claws to get out any ounce of meat. I have since incorporated that into my own playbook, so good looks.



Jackpot.



Crawfish Carnage in all its glory.

HowfreshEats Stacks (Potato) Chips Like Hebrews Vol. 8- The Road Trip Edition.

Ocho Chippo up in this bitch. Having tapped out all local tuber sources I needed to hit the road in search of more fried taters. You think I travel cause it's fun or relaxing?? Never that. Always an agenda. What we have here are 6 samples of chips west of the Mississippi. There was a bag of chips purchased in Pittsburgh- Giant Eagle I believe, but there was a BBQ going on and I couldn't go empty handed. I wish there could be more representation here, but we'll make due. Chips were purchased in Montana and Iowa, one of those 3 shitty states in a row that start with the letter "I". This time around I included images of the ingredients rather than comment on them. It's just the natural progression of things. I've already started to amass a lineup for Vol. 9 so stay tuned.

You can check out the previous 7 "Stack (Potato) Chips..." installments here: Vol. 1, Vol. 2, Vol. 3, Vol. 4, Vol. 5, Vol. 6, and Vol. 7.

Tim's Cascade Style Sea Salt & Vinegar Extra Thick & Crunchy

A mid-sized chip with nice crunch. Too sweet and salty however. Fingers look like you dipped them in a salt shaker. Caught a brief case of agita (Jersey Shersey up in here) after a couple. Doable in small doses but too intense after a bunch. Too many bent chips for my liking. Sweet aftertaste reminiscent of pie crust. Based out of Algona, WA, Tim's seems to do the right thing by both their employees and the environment. Peep more HERE. 8oz for $2.99.

Hawaiian Kettle Style Terriyaki Crispy & Crunchy

Terriyaki? Not in the least bit. More like sweet BBQ. This is out of my comfort zone but sometimes you need to try new things. The sweet makes sense since pineapples are all over the bag. Similar to the previous chip, bite-sized with a nice crunch. If you like those hokey type weird chips, you might dig this. These are part of the Hawaiian line under the Tim's umbrella.

Tim's Cascade Style Wasabi Extra Thick & Crunchy

Does it really matter how these taste when you're dipping your dogs in the Great Pacific? Stinson Beach, stand up.

I ate these months back so my recollection might be a bit weak. It was my beach bum summer days so you know I enjoyed them. Again, a nice sized chip with a strong crunch. That wasabi hits the nasals like wasabi does. Need to eat in doses. OD might be OD.

I'd like to take this time out to thank the following for providing the material in the second half of this post. Iowa's own Hiland Chips available at your local Kum & Go.
Pause.

Hiland Kettle Cooked Dill Pickles

Listen, I was in Iowa. What do you want from me? Maybe I was missing a Katz pastrami out in the great midwest and needed a reminder. First off, dill pickles are nowhere to be found in the ingredients. Neither is a pickle. And neither is dill. Those green specs on the chips are Parsley. I fucking hate parsley. Damn Iowans, get your shit straight. Majority bite-sized, yet thinner than most kettle cooked chips. Decent crunch. Off-putting after taste. Never again.

Hiland Kettle Cooked Salt & Pepper

Cardboardy. Way too much pepper, as is evident by looking above. Some chips were saltier than others. Tiny chips with minor crunch. Dare I say these might have tasted better with more ingredients, namely preservatives.

Hiland Kettle Cooked Original

Pretty good chip. Not too salty. Scratch that- super salty after a bunch. Lip numbing salt in fact. Thin chip, as noted before with a decent crunch. Feels like it's going to be a boring chip, but ends nicely. Fairly addictive if you can withstand the pain.

I wish the road trip garnered more than this but nope. Just 6 lousy bags of potato chips. I'll have to do it again once summer hits.

H is for Helping Humanity.

Helping Haiti to be more specific. I'm usually light with content, literally and figuratively as of late, but the recent disaster occurring in Haiti has really hit me and I felt compelled to write something. No soapbox, just discussion. Listening to all these interviews on local news from Haitians living in NYC that can't contact their loved ones reminds me of September 11, 2001. My father worked on the corner of Vesey and Church, the northeast corner of the Trade Center and patronized its businesses and facilities on a daily basis. Especially during mornings for his multiple cups of coffee and "fresh air" walks to light up. Following the collapse of the first tower, I frantically called him but couldn't get through. The fear that I lost my father was deeper than any pain I had ever felt. It was visceral. Made me nauseous, helpless. And while I don't know anybody firsthand on the island of Haiti, this feeling has returned. I can only imagine they're experiencing this, but worse.

It's a beautiful thing to see such an outpouring of support for the country. Already more than $10 million via SMS (Short Message Service) texts alone. Text donations are brilliant. Small denominations in volume, and so easy for the user. At times I generally think the masses are cold, heartless, couldn't give a shit about their fellow people, but moments like this renew my faith in humanity. Since Sept. 11, this is not the first disaster to strike. The Tsunami of 2004 and Hurricane Katrina are 2 of the more infamous that come to mind, though fucked up shit happens nearly every day somewhere on planet earth, my place of birth. Those events didn't evoke the same emotional response in me as the current catastrophe, and by looking at the substantial amount of money raised so far, didn't illicit the same reaction in the majority of others. Makes me wonder why. Should I be ashamed that I didn't feel the desperate urge to help before?

What has happened in Haiti has caused me to take a step back and really gauge what's important. Sneakers, fitteds, anything with an H, I love it, but let's be serious, shit isn't that serious. Food, that's another story, need to eat to live. I see something I like, I usually get it. Prior to the quake I was watching several fairly hard to find sneakers on ebay with some low prices. I was ready. Locked and loaded. Then the quake hits and those kicks really weren't a priority. In fact, the idea of spending loot on some egregious purchase, just adding to the columns of boxes, disgusted me. How dare I haphazardly drop cheese when that money could go for such a more worthy cause, people. It's fucking crazy. I could drop $200 on a pair of kicks easy, but the idea of giving just a fraction of that to charity doesn't come as fluidly. Made me feel like a fucking asshole. For real. Talk about a values and priorities check.

Listen, of course I'm not going cold turkey and retiring from the frivolous consumption game. Then I'd have nothing to write about. But maybe I'll be a bit more discerning and aware of the bigger picture. In order to look good, you got to feel clean.



With that, let's make a little transition to lighter fare. What we have here are the first additions of 2010. Both copped @ Cap City in West New York (What up Koo!!). The Astros, orange with a yellow H, button, New Era flag and underbill, navy star and navy bill happened to fit so I copped it, though I prefer the smaller logo. This was augmented a bit. I like my H like I like my titties, natural. Sorry J-Woww.



No need really to discuss the other. The consummate H logo. The Hickory Crawdads. Even though I have one that's basically identical. I can do a separate post strictly on the neurosis of that. Fuck it, we go hard.

H is for Happy Birthday...

And of course, Happy New Year. Happy Hanukah. Happy Kwanzaa. Happy Pagan Holidays. No Festivus, kind of corndoggish. SHit, I might be able to get 20 H's out tHis bitcH.

2 years and still going. Not with as much fervor as there should be, but we're not dead yet. I feel a pulse. Like a bear hibernating, maybe 1 or 2 breaths per minute, a slower heart rate. Just conserving that energy for the new year. I read somewhere earlier this year that on average most blogs hadn't been updated in 4 months. In that case I'm ahead of the curve, but status quo isn't the aspiration. You don't get yachts and coupes with that. And a G5, forget about it. I mean fugedaboudid for my Jersey Shore fans. J-Woww I see you with them bulletproof boobies. What a slob. But I love her?? Fake titties are for the birds but saline packs catch a bullet on some Leroy shit. Speaking of which, peep the picture below. Sunny and lovely Cleveland. Just one stop on the Summer of Howfresh Tour '09. Maybe I'll discuss it at a further juncture.



There are 20 "H" caps up top. I guess I could have stuttered the Happy Birthday, but that would have been o-o-o-o-o-obnoxious. Then we can blame it on the a-a-a-a-a.... Not that taking a picture of 20 H hats and 1 Howfresh cap isn't, but I wanted everybody to know that I haven't been home with a thumb up my ass, but rather out and about looking for some headwear. Each of these hats deserve their own post, but I'm running out of clever H titles. Time to start adding some silent H's.

I've also been eating. A lot. I'm proud to say that I gained 15-20 pounds this year. Yes LBs, not that fack off British currency. I'm still broke. The brokest blogger you know. Irrelevant though. One thing this blog has taught me to do is eat. And to do so with reckless abandon. Costs too much? Not that healthy? No appetite? Got food in the crib? Fuck it, we're going in. Because at the end of the day I will do a post on it. Unfortunately I've even fooled myself into believing this. In 2010 I'll do a retrospective of my '09 meals. If I forget how it tasted, I'll try to say something amusing to make you think I'm not full of shit. That is the tough thing about recalling events where sensory functions play a huge part. You remember the overall experience, but the tastes, textures, intricacies and so on get a bit muddled. Especially when you're ON TO THE NEXT ONE so soon. I need to hire a full-time memoirist.



What better way to ring in the born day than enjoying some good food and good music. Thanks to Ian @ a Different Kitchen, I scored a pair of tix to the Funk Flex Hip Hop Legends show @ BB King's. Chock full of legends. Large Professor/Main Source, Ed OG, Masta Ace, EPMD, Doug E. Fresh with a very special appearance by Lil' Vicious, Onyx, Ghostface (getting emotional in the red vest), Method Man, and the one group I wanted to see most, Showbiz & AG. Unfortunately I got there after they went on. What part of the game is that?? I hedged that the show would start late and lost. I guess I'll never learn. Show was dope. Energy was craze from both the audience and artists. Method Man was a no show but that didn't dampen my mood. Though there were a lot of long faces in the crowd. Buck up youngin'. Don't you know this hiphop shit breaks hearts??



I'm all over the place. I know. So let me finish this on the most apropos tip, food. Howfresh Eats- right? Precisely. The birthday meal, and crowning meal of the year was provided by Momofuku Ssam on 13th and 2nd Ave. And it sure as shit hit the mark. What we have here are kusshi oysters from Vancouver Island and some Jonah Crab claws. The meal deserves its own post, so I shall provide one. David Chang, hate him or love him, knows what he's doing.

Some footage from the show. A little bass heavy. New Year's Resolution- more treble, less bass. Is that a tits and ass reference? No clue.

Doug E. Fresh- Freaks @ Hip Hop Legends Show @ BB Kings 12/23/09


Ghostface Killah- 4th Chamber / Holla @ Hip Hop Legends Show @ BB Kings 12/23/09


Onyx- Throw Ya Gunz @ Hip Hop Legends Show @ BB Kings 12/23/09

Wack on the Walls but Dope on the Dogs- A Black Friday Fable.

To be clear, this isn't a fable. There really isn't any moral to be learned. Maybe some behavior to avoid. This is more of a story, a tale. I just wanted maximum alliteration.

You know how it goes. A sneaker gets hyped on the internet. The images look pretty good so you consider the cop. Then you see it in person and think damn, that shit is wack. Doesn't happen that often, seldom in fact, however this is precisely what happened with the Eddie Cruz "West" Nike Air Force 1s. Purple and yellow is my thing- Kobe all day, but the red outsole really freaked me out. I know my style isn't considered "progressive", but red? Shit didn't make any sense.



Store after store these shiny purple joints kept bugging. This is a sneaker that historically I should like sans the patent swoosh. My disdain runs deep. It's an air force. It's a premium air force, it has snake skin, it is purple, it has different stitch on the tongue tag and the O.44 sticky rubber logo is embossed on the heel. The little intricacies I gets downs with. But no, not interested. Not even a second chance. Like they did me dirty and were left to rot. Until I peeped them on feet. I was like, Hold Up!! Wait a minute!! My man Wes, being the astute Nike employee that he is, had them joints on for the ultimate sell. On some, "yeah, I thought they were pretty weak sauce too, but peep now." It worked on me. I'm not sure exactly why, maybe the new perspective of looking down as opposed to eye level. My style's over your head, I enjoy the aerial view. The red wasn't as noticeable and the shiny snakeskin wasn't as overwhelming.



So now they're on the radar, but for $135 not a necessity. Plus I have the purple with yellow LA forces so I'm thinking I'll call these skip. But the textures are different so that thought is thrown at the window. My boy tells me he can get them for $81, so that entices me more, but I'm still not fully convinced. Until Black Friday. When all sense and rationale gets thrown out the window and the lunacy ensues. No, there weren't any fly pony hair jumpoffs this year.



I'm in Goliath when I see the purple piff (not really, but again, my alliteration obsession) on the wall with a 40% off sign, thus making them $81. No longer an eyesore, I grab the joints to do some last minute recon. As I'm holding them, I hear 2 dudes ask for an 11 and 11.5, my size. I didn't even get a chance to make a play on them. Uh oh. Call it territorial, call it mania, attack mode is instantaneously triggered. I run to catch Dee, malt liquor extraordinaire, as he returns from the stock room. Stop him and ask on the humble if that's the last 11.5. For those in the know, an 11.5 is pretty rare, and usually only 1 pair per size run. He nods affirmative. Ask if there are more 11s, he throws up the "3" sign. Seeing I want them he says I got you, hitting me with the box just as Jim Kelly used to place the pigskin in Thurman Thomas' bread basket.

Feeling like I just stole the last Linden's cookie from the cookie jar, I quickly sit on the bench in the back sliding the pair underneath, hiding all evidence. I don't turn around, feeling like I just snaked some dude for his kicks. Dudes make their way towards the back, me thinking I'm going to have a problem. Never that, they just want to know about DQM, so I hit them with the bullet points, they say good looks and leave me be. Do the right foot try on. All signals say go and I'm at the register. Rose bags them (What up Rose!!), AMEX debt increases, and I'm out the door. Once that cool November air hits, waking me from my semi-delirious sneaker blindness, I look at the kicks again and realize why I never liked them in the first place.



Fuck it, what's another pair of kicks? Just another albatross around my neck. Another nail in the coffin. But at least my feets will look oh so fresh.

I've been racking my brain to think of other kicks that might have looked wack upon first glance and then flipped the script on me. I'm coming up blank. However what you see below might fit the bill. Shits offended me on the wall, but after trying them on and feeling the rabbit ass on my toes, yo, I might need them in my life. It's a big step for me though. Hold my hand.

Shake, Rattle & (Insert Crustacean) Roll- Luke's Lobster in the East Village.

Inexpensive seafood, somewhat of an oxymoron, falls into several categories. 1- Semi-edible inexpensive seafood, proceed with caution. 2- Passable inexpensive seafood is out there, but again, be wary. 3- Tasty inexpensive seafood can be found with a little research. 4- Delicious inexpensive seafood is in your dreams. A fallacy. Until now. Let me introduce you to Luke's Lobster on 7th Street in the East Village. My new go-to for that seafood fix, and open close to midnight 7 days a week. After having just 1 lobster roll, it's amazing how many urges I've needed to temper. I'm talking daily occurrences. Sometimes I'm able to shove them under the rug. Other times I find myself hopping on the 1 to the N,R and walking several blocks just to satiate the jones. Or if the hunger pangs are unbearable I take the helicopter to the Houston and East River landing.



As if it isn't obvious, I love seafood (see header photo). Especially fresh, high quality fruits from the sea. Lobster belts keep the ass from showing. I think it might be time to truly go overboard and make the wardrobe strictly H hats and Polo lobster get-ups. Let me mull it over. When word dropped that Luke's was to open on October 1st, being sourced directly from a Maine seafood processing plant, I nearly lost my shit. Nah, it wasn't that dramatic, but the anticipation brewed. With Mara's Homemade around the corner, the crustacean market was on smash down there, the Crustacean Corridor, Briny Boulevard, Shellfish Street, yeah yeah yeah.



Let's discuss the goods. Luke's offers 3 types of rolls: lobster, crab (Jonah crab), and shrimp. Aware of the quality of their product, they keep ingredients to a minimum and let the seafood shine. No posse is needed on the stage to distract from lack of talent. These motherfuckers shut shit down. Grand opening, grand closing. Damn- my bad. Didn't mean to get all crazy, but this is an accurate depiction of the feelings evoked. Don't hate me, hate Luke's for providing that aquatic crackjuice.



A lightly toasted and buttered New England (booooooo!!) style hot dog bun loaded with 4 oz. of flesh. Ayooo. No mayo, just a pinch of seasoning- oregano, pepper and a couple of other spices I believe. That's it. The seasoning just enhances the sweetness and saltiness of the meat- both lobster and crab. Delicious. I'll admit that 4 oz. doesn't sound like a lot, but the richness makes up for it. Just look at them- the chunks of plump tender claw meat about to jump out of the bun. For the big eater, you might need to double up or add on. At least it will taste good.



Lately I've been going with the crab rolls. The flaky meat is addictive. Plus I just like the way Jonah Crab sounds. No clue why. Biblical maybe? I'm fairly new to the crab carnival. Lobster been my thing for years, but lately I find lobster being too chewy, esp. the tail, and the crab just stunting hard. Having recently experienced fresh king and dungeness crab out west, it's only right I let the Atlantic crabs get some shine. Blue crabs get it in as well, but it takes a lot of work just to get a little morsel.



The crab roll costs $9, 5 beans less than the lobster roll. For now I'll keep our relationship open and keep bouncing back between the 2. Hopefully I won't give the lobster crabs. I had to.



Luke's provides several options so you can try their offerings without ordering a la carte. "A Taste of Maine" consists of a small lobster, crab and shrimp roll (2 oz. each), pair of Empress claws from the Jonah crab, Miss Vickie's Chips, and a Maine Root soda, all for $20. For the Big Willies there is the Noah's Ark, perfect for 2, or 1 starving dude- 2 small rolls of each, 4 claws, 2 chips and 2 sodas for $38. After trying the Taste of Maine I know now not to order the shrimp roll. It's not bad, just nothing near the other 2. Shrimp is easily attainable, the other stuff not so much.



The Empress claws, $5 for 4, are a nice little snack for the crabheads. The perfect accompaniment to the lobster roll. Yeah, the meal might run you $20, but there won't be one regret. You're allowed to have some fun.



The Schooner, the Luke's version of a combo meal include the roll, half a dill pickle, bag of Miss Vickie's chips and a Maine Root soda, an organic and Fair Trade Certified beverage. No HFCS in that bitch. You know how we do. I try to fall back from the fizz, but for these I'll indulge. Root beer, sarsaparilla, ginger, blueberry- joints are no joke. With all this, your appetite should be at bay for a couple of hours.



Kidding aside, please be careful around the stools. Testicle and labia snapping has been known to occur. It's worth risking be labeled as lewd in order to protect the well-being of my readers.



I'll admit that $14 for a sandwich isn't cheap. But look at what you're receiving for that amount, and compare that throughout the city. The value will become evident. My self-control is at an all-time minimum, so the idea of spending doesn't even register, even if wiser judgment says to fall back- but at least I'm smiling while doing so. Plus with every 10 rolls you purchase, the 11th is free. Make sure to keep your "Lobsta Mobsta" card(so The Departed) handy and let the spoils add up. Recently soups and chowders have been added to the repertoire. I'm sure the first of many. Also word is that they're trying to get a liquor license to aid in the consumption of the crustacean. Something to look forward to. And if all this isn't enough, for my locavores, Luke's tells you the particular New England body of water where the daily catch was caught. My inner-hippy is ecstatic.

Props to Antoinette for title inspiration. Wasn't able to find the mp3. Anyone got it?


Luke's Lobster
93 E 7th St.
New York, NY 10009
212.387.8487
www.lukeslobster.com
Sunday-Thursday: 11 am - 11 pm
Friday and Saturday: 11 am - 1 am

Do You Understand How Many 27 is? A lot. Like a Real Lot.

Are you aware of the effort it took to assemble 27 pieces of Yankee paraphernalia? I mean finding all those fitteds took half a day at least. Better off I'm not working. With that said, now try to imagine the feat of winning not 1, not 5, not 10, not 20, but 27 world titles. Unbelievable.

Back on top. Not necessarily where we belong, but where we like to be. Anybody that's been a Yankees fan since the mid 90's dynasty has a skewed image of what it's like to be a Yankees fan. Don't blame us for thinking we should always be playing in October, and apparently November nowadays. It's just what we're used to. Blame George. Fucking jerk. Stop spending already. How dare you spend money to field a team that has the potential to win. Put a limit on Cashman's spending habits. The man is drunk with luxurious taste. Now let's sign Holliday and Cliff Lee and get it popping.



I'll admit, this win didn't hit me the same as the 1996 to 2000 titles. Those were special, real special. Especially for a kid that saw the miserable 1980s. Andre Robertson, Steve Balboni, Cecilio Guante, Bobby Meacham. The list goes on. Then we're doing it in '94 and the strike hits. And then the grueling loss to the Mariners in '95. Then Torre signs. The guy had a sub .500 record. How could any fan be excited about that? And then the magic happened. And kept happening. I keep seeing Paulie O running in like the maniac he was and diving on the pile up. Not giving a fuck, just full of pure unadulterated joy. This team is too dainty for that? I hope not. Jumping in circles is cool and all, but, you know. Maybe pile ups are outlawed in their contracts.

But when I see Mariano, Jeter, Andy and Jorge holding the trophy it feels great. Looks great too. These dudes are unbelievable. And who knows how many more years we have with them. So we might as well cherish it while it lasts. And let's be honest, beating Philthy made it that much better. Especially with Pedro on the mound. Twice. Even if he was a hired gun, we still beat him and with conviction the second time. And knowing those terrible Philthy fans are stewing and complaining right now puts a smile on my face. I love reading the comments on these Philly sites. And if they hate then let them hate and watch the titles pile up. It's OK J-Roll you can say what you want. You're the better team? Cool with me. When I look in the books and see that the Yankees are the 2009 World Champions that's all that counts. Jimmy, you might have won the May series, I'll give you that. But unfortunately that doesn't constitute WORLD SUPREMACY. I know the frames were rose, but the lenses too? Damn homie, in '08 you were the man homie, what the fuck happened to you??

Parade tomorrow. Let's get the ticker-tape tic toc ticking. I'll be there repping hard. Maybe make out with Kate Hudson just off GP. You never know.

Ballgame over! Yankees win! Theeeeeee Yankees win!