BaRou is the New Bklyn

European Vacation: Holland

Where to even begin posting about several weeks of recent travels? First, a little about why we were in Europe. In the interest of seeing new places, I had resolved that my next trip abroad would be to a new continent I hadn't visited before. But the f's summer program took place in Holland, and damned if I was going to sit inside hiding from the statewide sauna outside without joining him over there once his program was done. And though I'd traveled around there before, this time Europe still had plenty to reveal.

The fiance met me at the Amsterdam airport and we went back to the apartment he'd rented. Here is one of, uh, only about three money-saving tips for traveling in Europe at this time of the feeble dollar: It was cheaper to rent this amazing apartment via Craigslist than to get a hotel room.

 

The steps led up to the bedroom, which featured this sex swing. Or gripping handles. Or whatever it was.

 

Hey, you know, I imagine many Americans might hide their sex props from renters, but they're more open about things over there.

...And, we're back

Sort of. Tales of adventures in Europe forthcoming, but here are the answers to the little geography puzzlers in the posts while I was away: in the first one, the creeppet Je Ne Sais Quois was in Amsterdam, in the second one, Rotterdam, and in the third, Berlin.

Would you believe that bugger continued to pursue us through Europe?

Here:

Here, where he was especially tickled by the masculine mermen depicted in this fountain:

 

And here.

Back to regularly scheduled blogging very soon.

Var ist die Puppeten-Hosen?!

This was so two days ago (one day? three?), but whatevs.

Where in the World is JNSQ?

This is a much hintier hint than the last hint. We are still being followed internationally by this creepo guy named Je Ne Sais Quois. Can you tell where we are now?

Architecture and design nerds can!

Ou en el Mundo es Je Ne Sais Quoi?

This mysterious and most pervy-looking character, Je Ne Sais Quoi, has been spotted everywhere the f and I go. The question is: Where are we?

(Friends, family, house-sitters, and dog with access to insider information, don't give away our location.)

UPDATE: If you're new to this blog, welcome. If you're old to this blog, check out the article about me in today's Advocate.

Frito lays the snack down, country-style

After a weeks-long push to finish a lot of extra work, it's finally almost time to reap some rewards and get in much-deserved relaxation and recreation. The end is in sight.

Of course, zero of the numerous checks I expected and needed yesterday have arrived. I'm beginning to think it takes a zen mindset to get paid as a freelancer: only when you have cleared your mind of the desire for the money, then the money will come.

But that's okay, because look what I found while I was getting new tires at Wal-Mart:

It's a bag of McGraw's Spicy Jalapeno Fritos^R, with your host, country music's Tim McGraw. This snack sensation is Limited Edition, so once I sell it on eBay, I should be rolling in moolah. I did eat them all, but I should still get a few hundo for this bag.

Right?

It might be fun to think up some taglines for this limited-edition snack and share them in the comments. Maybe something about spicy snacks lighting a fire under your fanny... though something unrelated would probably be funnier. What would Tim McGraw say?

Another exercise for the comments: since nobody likes Tim McGraw (except like, the majority of Americans who listen to his music),  what musician would you rather see on a Frito-Lay brand (or other) snack? Bonus: And the tagline for that?

Makin' Bacon

...Chicken-fried veggie bacon, that is!

After a mention of my latest food discovery, chicken-fried bacon, proved unexpectedly controversial, I decided to try making it myself. Perhaps the first mention came off as wholesale disapproval, but I was actually a little in awe of this novelty creation. Like other unusual dishes I've discovered of late, it was like something I might invent while under the influence of a certain substance (but only someplace where it was legal, of course, such as the Netherlands). Since I'm a sometime-proponent of the credo "good things come in fried packages," and a fan of veggie bacon and gravy, there was a chance this could be amazing.

First I found the recipe for regular CFB online. I enjoyed the shame accompanying this one, the author's avatar, and especially the reference to Vitamin G-- grease! Be sure to check out the nutrition stats. One piece of CFB is 75% of the US RDA of fat.

Then it was time to unearth an old acquaintance known as Fry Daddy.

Friday: OMG LOST Finale! (No spoilers)

Just have to say: OMG LOST. Please don't put any spoilers in the comments, my lovely commenters. I just had to vent some of the pent-up suspense and anxiety and emotions from the finale. OK, done.

I've been working overtime this week so when I go away I won't feel guilty (ha ha ha, as if) or at least not have to stop at Internet cafes to work. My faithful companion Coopy's been working hard, too, as you can see here. I hope he enjoyed that Playgirl he's resting on.



(I pledge that when I'm off on adventures there will be less pictures of pets and creatures that have invaded the house, as has been the theme of late. )

God Damn It.

How am I supposed to work under these conditions? There's an unfunny Dilbert comic in this somewhere.



Well, I guess meet Co-Worker Cockroach.

This state is a weird, weird place. And yes, occasionally wonderful.



But on the weird note, won't you check out Part Two in the exciting Abandoned Baton Rouge miniseries, The Bellemont?

Old times here are not forgotten

This Sunday, the New York Times ran a travel story titled Driving Back Into Louisiana's History, which covers the new African-American Heritage Trail. One quote in the piece grabbed me:
“The whole state of Louisiana really is a museum.”

Don't I know it.

On Friday, Amy, Jonathan and I saw The New Orleans Bingo Show play at Spanish Moon (along with a whole different crowd than I've seen there at the indie shows). To clumsily paraphrase Jonathan, it's like the band takes the New Orleans music tradition and lovingly filters it through modern genres.