we don't yet know why nyc stinks of gas* this morning, but it sure does; joe and i were frantic to be sure that the pilot light hadn't gone out before we left for work. the local news was already reporting that the stink is everywhere in the midtown/downtown area, so we left secure in the knowledge that if the cats asphyxiated, we'd surely go down with them. my office building has been sealed to keep out additional stink, so we're marinating in our collective sass and bitching about how hot it is.** it's unanimous: the maple syrup smell of '05 was much better.
on good stinks, like miss w, i can't quite let go of talking about the holidays - particularly the foodstuffs we concocted for them. if you do anise, i highly recommend the anise biscotti (yes, courtesy of emeril - shut up) i made on christmas eve; if you don't do anise, you can sub in a bunch of crushed almonds and amaretto (as i did on my second attempt). i would subject you to pictures of said biscotti, but joe scarfed them before the photo shoot.
*i love it that this story has already made it as far as the BBC. when you jump on our local news like this, world, you encourage us to continue thinking of ourselves as the center of the universe - and really, our delusions of grandeur are robust enough as is.
**the art department is particularly fond of bitching; i once heard them go for half an hour on the smell of someone's soup.
4 comments:
Or what about the microwave popcorn smell? That stuff permeates everything for a good half-hour. I'd bitch about that.
Re smells like gas: [insert obligatory Joisey joke here]. Or is it worse than the Garden State?
Re ibid: how many people have made the equally-obligatory "ooh-let's-see-if-its-gas-by-breaking-out-a-lighter" gag? More than zero = loss of more than half of the remainder of my hair (if the gas thing were happening here).
the times blog commenters are all over blaming jersey for the smell. bloomberg blames mercaptan (an additive to natural gas, which would otherwise be odorless) for the funk, prompting my favorite comment: Wasn't it Walt Whitman who wrote, "O Captain, Mercaptan"?
amen to the maple syrup smell, sister...it was so pleasingly brunch-like for the day.
luckily, with my head cold, i'm not smelling anything. i do love that a smelly day in new york is international news, though.
...and while i did post to let the folks at home know all was well, i returned your name-check, and we also found the same funny gothamist bit. oh, internets...
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