Saturday, November 29, 2008

Star bribes Kansas Citians to read paper

Posted By on Sat, Nov 29, 2008 at 6:00 AM

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Crack Pitch clubs editor Berry Anderson snapped this photo at Eighth Street and Walnut. She also spied another sign on Southwest Boulevard across from Manny's.

Let's get this straight. The Kansas City Star's answer to falling stock prices, declining circulation and company-wide layoffs isn't providing better coverage of Kansas City -- it's bribing readers with a $25,000 grand prize?

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Friday, November 28, 2008

Dim sum and dimmer memories

Posted By on Fri, Nov 28, 2008 at 11:28 AM

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While I was visiting Indianapolis this week, my younger brother wanted to go out for dim sum. "It's served in this dumpy little restaurant on the west side of town," my brother said, "but the food is really good."

I was game, so we drove to the dumpy little restaurant, Shen Yang, out near one of those dying suburban malls. The building didn't look familiar to me, but the faux Colonial-style doors and the spartan interior of the restaurant looked vaguely familiar. As I bit into a shrimp dumpling, I wondered if I had eaten there in the past.

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Christmas foods that are overrated

Posted By on Fri, Nov 28, 2008 at 10:30 AM

So Thanksgiving is over and even though the turkey leftovers aren't even finished, we've now begun a 28-day binge

of holiday Christmas music and lights and other crap. Frankly, a weekend of Christmas would be plenty for me -- but enough

has already been written about the over-hype and deluge of those aspects of Christmas.

I want to focus on other food-related parts of this jolly season.



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Stealing Time: Thigpen dumps skeleton for Starr?

Posted By on Fri, Nov 28, 2008 at 9:45 AM

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Tony's Kansas City runs with the rumor that skeleton-humping Chiefs quarterback Tyler Thigpen is dating 38 the Spot Simpsons

quiz master Holly Starr. No wonder the charity dates for "southern gentleman" Thigpen and Starr are double dates. You totally won't be a third wheel if you bid on

Starr or Thigpen. Well, maybe if Thigpen brings along his skeleton.

McClatchy Watch wonders if an unnamed Kansas City Star journalist is posting on AngryJournalist.com and isn't a fan of publisher Mark Zieman. Hat tip to Will Not Be Televised.

Anheuser-Busch's Clydesdales are moving -- but not to Belgium or the glue factory.

Union Station is begging for a down payment on a cheeseburger ... again.

Nick Sloan breaks down Kansas City's best sports rivalries. MU-KU? Chiefs-Raiders? Royals-Cardinals? My vote: David Glass vs. Royals fans. But Arrowhead Addict vs. "Harm" Edwards is getting good.




-- Justin Kendall

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Thanksgiving Horror Stories: A Winner!

Posted By on Fri, Nov 28, 2008 at 9:30 AM

This awesome lengthy comment was left by commenter Tman in response to CharlesFerruzza' call for Thanksgiving horror stories. I assume loyal Fat City readers have already seen it, but damn, it bears repeating:

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One year my two sisters and I met in our parents home to share a

Thanksgiving lovefest ... We all live far

apart, save for Mom and Dad.

So far, so good. We share laughs. My father can only remember all of my

mistakes and we all laugh heartily about the stories.



Fast forward to Thanksgiving Dinner, at my request we are having prime

rib. We all agree that turkey sucks. We sit down. Pass dishes. Make

yummy sounds.

I take my first bite of meat. It lodges at the bottom of my esophagus.

I am a fast eating pig by the way. Before I notice the stuck meat I

have already followed with another large bite of meat and some mashed

potatoes. I wash this down with water, big gulps. Kaphloooom!!! There

is no place for the water to go but back out the entrance. I spit water

all over my plate. I am unable to catch my breath... with all the water

coming up. I stand up and make "blahk, blahk" sounds. Both of my

sisters jump up and attempt the Heimlich. Neither have arms long enough

to reach around my chest. My older sister begins punching me in the gut

attempting to dislodge (i guess). Her punches feel like a four-year-old is

throwing ping pong balls at me.



While I am being wrestled and beaten by my sisters I am truly in a

panic. I have yet to secure a breathing pattern. My parents are sitting

motionless, still in their dinner chairs. I am pointing to my Dad's

face and then pointing to the phone on the wall. I do this motion

several times. He is froze and NEVER understands that I am instructing

him to call 911. I point to my Mom's face then to the phone. She does

not move. I don't even think she blinked. I push my sisters away and

begin to catch my breath.

I am in excruciating pain. The meat stuck at the very bottom of my esophagus is lodged and my body's natural response is to apply internal

pressure to push it through to my stomach and to create gobs of phlegm to

lubricate.



Once I start breathing, my father starts asking me if I want to go to

the doctor. I am staring, breathing, and he is asking me if I want to

go to the doctor. HELL YES I DO.

As we walk to the car the food dislodges. We return to the house and

sit at the table.

All of these events occurred within 2 minutes.

Sitting at the table, no one is interested in eating. My older sister

goes out on the enclosed porch and returns with a small yellow coffee

cup. Within minutes she is in tears of fear and laughter. Not the

normal kind.

We all decide to go visit 92-year-old Grandmother in the care home. As we

ride we all begin to notice the older sister's increasing level of

intoxication. A 30 minute ride gave her plenty of time to medicate. She

reveals that she has a poem she wrote and plans to read to Grandma.

Keep in mind, when she drinks her persona and voice mimic a 9 year old

girl.

Grandma is precious. She has her wits but is woefully deaf and

lulls in and out of sleep. My drunk sister whips our a full page,single

space poem and begins reading it to Grandma. We all smell the booze and

notice the girly recitation. The parents have exited the room, finding

their oldest's child's behavior to be unbearable.

I am standing at Grandma's feet. My younger sister is near her legs.

The POET is near her shoulder. Grandma is propped up with pillows.

Younger sister and I are making small talk with Grandma all the while

the POET is in full recitation. Grandma gets a pained look on her face

and in her weak voice says "please go, go." Younger and I gave her a

squeeze on the foot and leg and then immediately realized that Grandma

was having an unfortunate unplanned shit. We exited immediately.

The poet continued reading the poem as us siblings moved to the

hallway. We listened as the drunken poet continued to recite the poem

amid her own gagging and awking.

The recitation sounded like a person

being squeezed against a wall by an elephant. "Ahhgg, uhhhjjj, the

doves...uh, uh." My parents had shown up in the hallway and we all were

bent over laughing so hard we were dead silent. Finally we heard

"grandma, grandma, uhgg uhgg..." The Poet emerged from the room red

faced and gasping.

It's not over yet.

The staff cleaned Grandma up and brought her out to the visiting area.

She laughed and apologized. We treated her like a queen. The Poet sat

down beside her and started the entire poem over again. It was brutal.

As we exited, I got to the car first and found several more gulps of

booze in the coffee mug. I poured it out on the grass.

During the exit ride from the parking lot I heard the poet say "hey,

that's not nice."

When we got home my father gave me a hug for the first time in my 33

years of life.

Now that, my friends, is a horror story. Thanks, Tman.

Breakfast Buffet: Friday, 11/28

Posted By on Fri, Nov 28, 2008 at 9:00 AM

By OWEN MORRIS

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This may not sound cool but it is. In many countries they sharpen knives by using converted stationary bikes. Here's a list of twelve of the cooler knife bikes. [OObject]

This post goes live about 9 a.m. About half an hour later, it will be year's busiest moment of online shopping. [Biz Journal]

This is going to be a shock, but quack weight-loss products are ineffective and buying them is a waste of money. [Scientific Blogging]

This article asks a sacrilegious question that may just have a kernel of truth to it as well: Is French cuisine dead? [Intelligent Life]

Get Milk somewhere besides Cinemark, protesters demand

Posted By on Fri, Nov 28, 2008 at 6:00 AM

In the 1970s, San Francisco had the first openly gay man to be elected to public office on its board of supervisors. His name was Harvey Milk, and one of the things he did best was organize protests. A movie about his life is coming out here December 12, and if you're one of the people who showed up at this month's protest against California's gay-marriage ban, which attracted hundreds of sympathetic people to the J.C. Nichols Memorial Fountain on the Plaza, you might want to see it. But this time, protesters ask that you avoid the Plaza.

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Thursday, November 27, 2008

The cheesiest holiday light display

Posted By on Thu, Nov 27, 2008 at 9:00 AM


I usually hate it when people put up their holiday lights the second that Halloween is over. It's like, come on. We still have to slog through Thanksgiving first, so just hold off on your holiday displays until after the only pure, noncommercialized American holiday we have left.

But then I saw these lights at the corner of 103rd Street and Metcalf in Overland Park.

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Studies in Crap: Lady, Be Lovely

Posted By on Thu, Nov 27, 2008 at 6:00 AM

Each Thursday, your Crap Archivist brings you the finest in

forgotten and bewildering crap culled from area basements, thrift

stores, estate sales and flea markets. He does this for one reason:

Knowledge is power.

Lady, Be Lovely: A Guide to Beauty, Glamour and Sex Appeal

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Author: Edyth Thornton McLeod

Publisher: Wilcox and Follett

Date: 1955

Discovered at: KCK estate sale

The Cover Promises: Foot stretching!

Neck powdering! Widow's peak maintenance! Desperately seizing your

hand before it opens the refrigerator!

Representative Quotes

Page 13: "When a woman forgets to

say 'thank you' for some act of courtesy, the man should verbally

remind her of her bad manners, or lack of good ones, whichever you

prefer!"

Page 199: "I wonder what makes some

women think they can wear tight Levis of clingy denim and

wild-patterned blouses or sweaters when they are built like Big

Berthas."


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Wednesday, November 26, 2008

Fantasy Hotel: ShaunCon XXVI

Posted By on Wed, Nov 26, 2008 at 2:36 PM

You're riding through the river valley, and up ahead you see a squat white building behind an inn on the side of the hill. As you approach the door, you see the remnants of fast food meals overflowing trash bins. The scent of microwave pizza floats on the air. Stepping inside, you are faced with glowing screens bidding you to register your identity. A small child in a green wizard cloak scurries by you. What do you do?

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If you're into role playing, you sign up and spend four days at the Best Western on Southwest Boulevard.

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