In theory, I should love cheesecake. I love cheese and I love cake, but for some reason the combination of the two has never won me over. It certainly tastes great, yes. But the problem is its unwieldiness. You can’t just pop cheesecake in your mouth and call it a day. No, in fact, it’s not poppable at all. You need a fork to eat the stuff (sometimes even a knife), which as we all know is completely unacceptable. Cheesecake’s stubborn refusal to make that next logical step–to poppermorphosize, if you will–has, in my opinion, forever doomed it to be classified as an imperfect, sub-standard desert.

Or so I thought.

Problem solved. Thanks Arby’s.

PS: Nice work pairing it with ketchup.

Everyone knows that I’ve been a sports fan my entire life. So it should come as no surprise that I’ve spent my last two Saturday nights going to historic athletic events. On Saturday, Dec. 29th, I was in attendance Giants Stadium as The New England Patriots completed their perfect season by defeating the New York Giants 38-35 in one of the most exciting football games ever played.

Then, this past Saturday, I was in attendance at Madison Square Garden to see the Profession Bull Riders Versus Invitational. It was announced that, for the first time in the history of “all western sport,” the competitors were given the chance to actually choose which bull he’d ride later that night. (First of all, about that, …what? How is it at all possible this was the first time cowboys chose their bull? Were all rodeos prior to 2008 decided with an Ouija board? An officiated game of Oogie Cookie? Also, was it really necessary to bring the Hemispheres into it?)

Both events were a triumph. Someone asked me which one was better, and I really didn’t what to say. Sure, the Patriots game was more celebrated in the liberal Jew-run media, but the NYC rodeo was pretty amazing as well. So, because I believe in science, I decided to match them up:

(more…)

Happy br’08, everyone. Hope you all had a pleasant and familial holiday season, full of joy and life lessons. Myself, I learned that baby-back ribs do NOT work as a New Year’s hangover remedy. (You just compound your headache with so much diarrhea.)

We’re three days into ‘08 already, and I’m happy to say that I’m staying good on my New Years resolutions, which were:

1. Never leave my apartment, no matter what.
2. Get so fat and also sad.
3. Get real-life gang members to leave comments on my blog.
4. Consider becoming a Hispanic person.

So far so good. A result of resolutions #1 and #2, I’m back to my old habit of watching a lot of Maury. And, as a result of watching a lot of Maury, I was introduced to–and soon fell in love with–an enormous black woman named Yolanda. I don’t want to give anything away, but just know that Yolanda is the new Monique.