I have a strange aversion to nice neighborhoods. The thing about living among affluent people — or even the solidly middle class — is that they seem to think what you do with your property is their business, even when it doesn’t affect them. The first time I heard about Home Owners Associations that dictated what kinds of fences you can put up, whether you can put up a fence at all, or where you can put a vegetable garden, I nearly lost my mind. I will plant my vegetable garden in the sun…and if that means in the front yard, OH WELL! When I commit to spending the next 30 years of my life paying off a piece of property, you better believe I’ll do whatever the hell I want with it.
So you can only imagine my reaction to hearing about this story in the West End of Hartford, where the city (and some neighbors) are trying to put an end to a communal living situation happening on Scarborough Street. Eleven people, mostly couples–and a few kids–occupy a mansion bought by two of the occupants. As far as I can tell they haven’t done anything to bother their neighbors other than just living there. (more…)
A few times a year UCONN magazine shows up in my mailbox. An issue appeared last week, complete with giant, glorious buds of marijuana on the cover. Apparently they’re doing great things with medicinal marijuana up there. Good for them!
You know what wasn’t in the issue? Mention of the Fraternity vs. Sorority smackdown that ended with members of the PIKE fraternity using racist and sexist language toward the ladies of AKA…apparently over a rock. You know what else wasn’t in the magazine? They failed to mention that Jerry Springer is bringing some kind of dating show to campus. (more…)
If you’ve been to Real Art Ways lately you may have noticed a hint of dander in the air thanks to the Cats in Residence exhibition. What the hell is up with that, you may ask. Well, it’s basically a pop up shelter in the gallery of Real Art Ways. I headed over there with the Farmer for the opening reception and ran into none other than CONNetic Dance’s Carolyn Paine while we were there. (Shameless plug: Get your tickets for the Nutcracker Suite & Spicy now!) You may have heard a rumor that she got kicked out of the cat habitat. I am here to confirm that it is true.
Cat art at Real Art Ways. I want one for my house.
The Cats in Residence exhibition runs until December 7, and as the cats get adopted new ones comes in. And they are getting adopted. One even got snapped up by Scot Haney. (more…)
Just in case you haven’t made up your mind who you’re voting for yet…
For the full coverage of Boatocalypse…Boatmageddon…whatever… just hit up this page and watch Jon Stewart make fun of us all for having boats.
It’s almost election day. This means we can all look forward to a time when we can plunk down on our couches for hours at a time without the incessant political ads that give us all indigestion. If you’re like me and use an antenna instead of cable, you may even be lucky enough to get political ads from our neighbor to the north. And I do mean lucky, because at least you can watch those knowing you don’t have to vote for any of the fools behind them.
From The Courant
If you didn’t pick up on it yourself, you have no doubt heard about how acrimonious the race for governor has become. Frankly the candidates hate each other. You can’t really blame them. neither one seems like a nice guy. And at times, they both seem to hate everyone else. But for a while now something has been nagging at me. A few weeks back Tom Foley seemed to take a swipe at Dan Malloy’s skills as a father based on some issues Malloy’s son has had with drugs.
Is this supposed to win Foley points with the common man? Who among us doesn’t have an alcoholic uncle, a crackhead cousin, or a pill-popping brother? You can’t swing a kitchen chair in my family without hitting someone with some issue or another (and we swing a lot of kitchen chairs in our family). I imagine it’s not all that different in most families. So, Tom Foley, are you blaming our family members for the problems of their offspring? What about that failing mental healthcare system you’re so fond of blaming for the Newtown shooting? Do you think that might have something to do with the addiction problems that plague so many of our fellow Nutmeggers? (more…)
Last week was The Pilot’s and my anniversary. We decided to ditch the kid, take the day off and celebrate. It was pouring rain for most of the day but we decided to go on an adventure anyway. Our travels took us to East Haddam and Two Wrasslin’ Cats which purports itself to be a coffeehouse, art gallery, and cafe. We decided to try it for lunch as those Yelpers gave it good reviews.
The atmosphere was lovely–bright and warm, with happy colors, tchotchkes, eclectic furniture, exposed wood beams, and fireplaces. There were side rooms where you could curl up with a coffee and a book if you wanted as well. The art was sort of what you would expect–nothing outlandish or revolutionary but colorful and what your eccentric aunt might create. However, I did not actually see two cats wrasslin‘, which was disappointing. (more…)
You should tune in to see Bear Hands on Conan O’Brien tonight. The Asian Persuasion and I went to high school with two of these fellas. We have the prom photos to prove it. But if you don’t care about which one of these guys used to steal my turkey sandwich when I had to eat my lunch in “Sports Issues” class, then you might care about the Wesleyan connection.
When you’re done doing that, head over to Grayson Hugh’s IndieGoGo campaign to help fund his next album.
The other day we found what just might be the most pointless thing ever posted on the internet, and that includes everything we’ve ever posted. So, ya know…it’s pretty bad. “10 Things You Need to Know About Dating Someone from Connecticut” popped up in my Facebook newsfeed and I clicked through, just in case it was something I needed to send The Farmer. It was not.
Rather than an informative, or even humorous listicle I found what appeared to be something written by some poor freelancer who has never actually set foot in Connecticut. (If there is a great disturbance in the universe and I am proven wrong, and this person is actually from Connecticut, then I can only assume he or she is from Fairfield County, which we all know only counts as Connecticut for tax purposes.)
There’s something on the list about the whole Red Sox vs. Yankee rivalry, but you may not even get that far down the list because you are so baffled/irate/homicidal over the first item on the list: “Connecticuddling.”