Well, that cinches it

Well, this is a game changer people. After months of speculation as to whom he would give his endorsement, Daddy Yankee - Latin Grammy award-winning reggaeton superstar - finally ended the guessing and endorsed John McCain for President. McCain can now sleep easier, as the Latina 12-18 demographic is locked up. I've also been waiting for Daddy Yankee to tell me whom to vote for, so it's a relief all around.

So So Closed

Cafe Dupri, super producer Jermaine Dupri's ode to Applebees (or was it Friday's?) closed recently. Turns out that his So So Def Omelet and Triple Platinum Pancakes sold about as many units as girlfriend Janet Jackson's latest release, Discipline. Making a bad situation even worse, all the employees were stiffed on their final paycheck. Reports are that JD's Mom, the "CEO" of the restaurant, said something like "maybe if they all worked harder, we wouldn't have had to close." Seriously.

On a personal note, I ate breakfast at Cafe Dupri on the morning of my wedding, making it my "final meal" as a single guy. The eggs were so so. They were not def, unfortunately.

That's Gotta Hurt

I've had the Olympics on in the background over the last few days, occasionally turning up the volume for various moments of glory. This particular moment was not one of them: Hungarian weightlifter Janos Barayai dislocated his shoulder during a clean-and-jerk attempt. Sort of like when Joe Theisman had his leg snapped in half by Lawrence Taylor, it's one of those videos you can't decide whether to watch over and over again or have your brain scrubbed immediately.



Although, I suppose it could have been worse:

He's still our President? Really?

So I'm watching the Olympics tonight, and sandwiched somewhere in between the uneven bars and the floor exercise, I'm treated to a (President) Bush interview. Maybe it's because I've been more focused on the next President than the current President, or maybe it's because he's been a lame duck for, I don't know, the last seven years, but I had totally forgotten how uncomfortable his interviews are. Bob Costas asked him some serious questions about the Russia-Georgia conflict and Darfur... and instead of listening intently with that sober "you're asking me a serious question/people are dying/I'm the leader of the free world" look that you'd expect the President of the United States to have, the guy is smiling. Correction, grinning. GRINNING! I found this picture of him at a beach volleyball match, and I thought it was pretty appropriate...


In other Olympics news, did anyone catch the Opening Cermeonies? Pretty crazy. I also learned that English and French are the two official languages of the Olympics. I get English... but French?

And finally, is it just me, or is Tim Daggett the Scott Hamilton of gymnastics announcing?

ps. Sorry that this blog post has been straight out of the Larry King school of commentary. I know, I know.

Brooklyn Yogurt Turf Wars!

Perhaps this post is best categorized under the label "things I couldn't possibly give a shit about since I don't live in Downtown Brooklyn." But a very interesting (to me at least) development is afoot in my neighborhood. I've lived in Downtown Brooklyn for a number of years now, and have watched as the 'nabe slowly received the gentrification attention that has been lavished on other previously, um, crusty Brooklyn neighborhoods like Williamsburg. Despite the introduction of about 5 bazillion (actual number) new banks and even the promise of a new Trader Joe's, the stretch of Court Street between Atlantic and Livingston Street has been slow to clean its act up and trade in bail bonds shops for some gourmet falafel stand (or whatever fancy restaurant marks the first wave of gentrification). Until now.

Within the next few weeks, not one, not two, but THREE new frozen yogurt shops will be opening within 6 blocks of each other. Of those, Red Mango and Yogo Monster (clever, fellas) will be within spitting distance of each other (especially if the spitter is Larry Piagrassi, legendary spit-distance champion from the Flappy Days brothers' days at Camp Androscoggin). This is, of course, good news for the wifey, and c'mon - who doesn't remember their first, delicious cup of that creamy, cold stuff that wasn't quite ice cream, not quite yogurt at their local mini-mall (probably down the hall from a Spencer's Gifts). But methinks what will be most exciting about this freak occurrence is the Darwinian battle these little shops will entangle themselves Who will be left standing? I'll keep you posted, likely 20 pounds heavier from a steady diet of "fat free" frozen, cultured goodness in a cup.

This blog thing is international

Hello Flappy Days readers - I have returned from a month-long, pre-wedding/wedding hiatus. I am now a married man. I'll keep this don't-call-it-a-comeback post short, and just say that I've been reviewing the logs, and in my absence, we've had some new visitors from international hotspots Iran and Iraq. Welcome to the fun. We'll try harder to give you some daily content (or weekly - maybe I should under-promise and over-deliver, as my cousin and uncle advised me after listening to the vows I had written for the wedding).