Monthly Archives: June 2011

Lame Adventure 195: Coco’s Meatcake (Better Late than Never)

First, I feel compelled to clarify that the title of this post has nothing to do with my dear friend Coco’s taste in men.  Last March I was shopping for tooth twine, while pondering what should be the major dramatic question for a tragedy I’ve been penning over the course of thirty years called The Desert (My Sex Life), when my cell phone rang.  The caller was Coco so naturally I was delighted.

Me (happy):  Hey Buddy!

Coco (ecstatic):  I was walking home from work when I saw this tower of raw meat and I immediately thought of you!

Insert musical cue: the downbeat.

Me:  So it was rotting, saggy and gristly?

Coco (instantly picking up on my tsunami of depression): No, silly, I thought of Lame Adventures!  I saw this raw meat wedding cake made up of chops and bones and steaks and bacon, and thought, “What is that? I have to tell her!”

Me (intrigued):  You saw a raw meat wedding cake?  Who orders a raw meat wedding cake, S&M types that wish they were lions?

Coco: That cake would be appropriate for Alice and her butcher boyfriend Sam from The Brady Bunch if they ever tied the knot.

I’ll have my slice grilled medium rare.

Good point, Coco.

As for the story behind that cake which unfortunately is no longer on display three months later, Coco reported that it was from a very inventive cake bakery called Collette’s Cakes located at the corner of Washington and Charles Street.  They also baked a birthday cake that looked like a spiral ham for when Bette Midler turned sixty.  Maybe when I turn sixty Coco will have them bake me a cake that looks like the Sistine Chapel to compliment my atheism, or when The Desert (My Sex Life) reaches the Best Seller list, whichever millstone (sic) arrives first.

Since June is the most popular month to tie the knot, if any couples out there want more esoteric style wedding cakes, possibly one that is a replica of a dishwasher or weed whacker, Collette’s appears to be the go-to source in that department in Gotham City.


Lame Adventure 193: Picture Perfection

Recently over food and beverages, Milton and I were talking about the new Matthew McConaghey ad featuring this Hollywood hunk that seldom makes my radar looking very Greek God-like.  Milton insists that McConaughey’s most recent film, The Lincoln Lawyer, about a lawyer that practices law from inside his car (yes, a Lincoln) was:

Milton:  A dumb sounding premise, but they pulled it off.  It was quite good.

I could not get beyond the inanity of the premise and made no effort to see that movie.

Thinking about McConaughey’s perfect masculine beauty in that ad caused Milton to inhale three entire French Fries whole without gagging, my dear friend was in such a state of bliss.  If a terrorist with two sawed off shotguns had entered our dining booth and pointed each weapon at our heads and barked this order:

Terrorist:  Name the product in that ad right now or both your heads are gonna paint these walls!

Well, our heads would have easily gone the way of a Jackson Pollack drip painting for we would have sooner guessed he was selling bronzer than Dolce & Gabbana men’s fragrance.  Calling this product cologne must be too Wal-Mart.  For all I know, Milton still has no clue what McConaughey is selling.  When I saw this new wider shot version of that ad (pictured below), I immediately emailed it to my pal.

Anyone want to speed read The Odyssey with me?

My phone rang instantly.

In fairness to Milton, he was actually calling in response to another email I had sent him about what time we should meet for dinner.  Food motivates him to act almost as quickly as images of Greek God-like guys.  While we were on the phone Milton opened my other email and I heard low murmurs of immense approval.

Milton:  Male perfection but he also looks masculine.

Me:  That image reminds me of Leslie Howard.  He should be lighting two cigarettes and handing one to Bette Davis.

Note:  It was actor Paul Henreid that lit the two cigarettes and handed one to Davis in Now, Voyager.

Milton got my point and rather liked the suggestion.  Milton thinks that this McConaughey pose could become an iconic image that stands the test of time.  For readers unfamiliar with Leslie Howard, a matinee idol from the Thirties and Forties, judge for yourselves.

Leslie Howard

I wish I knew who took this photograph of Leslie Howard.  It brings to mind the great Hollywood portrait photographer, George Hurrell.  He was a magician with light.  Now, Photoshop can almost make a Hefty trash bag look equal to Joan Crawford at the height of her beauty.  Almost.

Joan Crawford photographed by George Hurrell.

Or, Photoshop can pull off stunts like a picture Milton recently found while web surfing I don’t know what.  Possibly “pugs stuffed in Eames chairs.”

Puss n' Boots idiot relation Pug n' Eames

I think I’d rather stare at the McConaughey picture.