From the Green Room: Bacon!!

Ever since Samuel Jackson and John Travolta had their philosophical debate about pork in the final reel of Tarantino’s “Pulp Fiction,” bacon has received some really bad press.  Jackson, as hit man Jules, maintained, “Pigs are filthy animals.” Over the years, bacon has gotten a bum rap.

Until now.     

According to a piece on Tina Brown’s very fine website The Daily Beast, the caloric count of a cup of whole grain granola is equal to that of TEN slices of that salty, smoky, porcine goodness. In fact, if you take into account that two slices is considered a normal serving, bacon is actually BETTER FOR YOU than the cereal. Just when you thought the release of the Double Down sandwich was as good as it gets comes the incredible news that the cured swine belly is damn near health food.

There are quite a few culinary myths shattered in the aforementioned photographic essay.  For instance, a half cup of shelled sunflower seeds is equal in calories to that of two bags of M&Ms, a fact that creates the following moral and philosophical dilemma: What should I snack on? A half-a-handful of dry, tasteless tidbits that will get stuck in my teeth?  Or a buttload of chocolately goodness that won’t melt in my hand?  Did you know that a plain, dry bagel is the same as two glazed Dunkin Donuts?  Not that you would ever eat a plain, dry bagel unless you were serving hard time in solitary at a state penitentiary, but it’s good to know that you could do worse than stuff two fried, doughy sugar rings into your cakehole.  Calorically speaking, that is.

The revelations are stunning. Three quarters of a cup of walnuts is tantamount to a King Size order of Onion Rings at Burger King. With information like that, you’d assume it would be nuts to opt for the nuts. Unless you consider that, with the King Rings, you’re taking one step closer to that inevitable open heart surgery.

Which brings us back to the Holy Hog, the strips of whose flesh we celebrate here today.  Sure, there are differences between good calories and bad calories, no matter how equal they may be, but here’s how loyal and dedicated this noble beast is: You eat enough of him, you’ll need a valve job. And where do you think they’re going to get that valve?  That’s right, your little pal, Porky.

Now, that’s what I call a giver.

From the Green Room: Too Hot to Handle

Debralee "Too Hot" LorenzanaThe world is on the verge of ecological disaster, financial collapse, and moral disintegration.  And yet, right there on the front page of the Daily News this morning is a headline about a woman who was fired from Citibank for being “too hot,” and not in a global warming kind of way. Ms. Debralee Lorenzana was deemed “too attractive” to work for one of the nation’s largest financial institutions. Unfortunately, that’s not a problem at my branch.

The staff at the bank where I do my business must be the reason direct deposit was invented, because I’d risk the extra nine business days it takes my paycheck to clear by sticking it in the slot at the drive through ATM than face the genetic mutants sitting behind those teller windows. On the few occasions I’ve been required to interact face-to-what-passes-This guy works at Rob's bankfor-a-face, I was overwhelmed by a desire to sign my checks over to them for corrective plastic surgery. The woman manning the safety deposit box would be considered too hideous even by middle school lunch lady standards, and the guy who in charge of new accounts makes the Elephant Man look dreamy by comparison. You’re almost hesitant to accept the free toaster offered for opening a CD, because it seems he stuck his face in it first. He wears a gravy-stained white shirt, a too-short striped tie, and a Yoda button bearing the message, “Here to help you I am.”  Appropriate that he should be a Star Wars fan, seeing as he’s about the size of the Death Star.

A business banking officer at Citibanks, Ms. Lorenzana was relegated to a more clandestine position within the building in response to her sexual harassment claims.  Not all that unreasonable an assertion, given that her wardrobe consisted of sexy outfits and heels, which, according to her, were perfectly within the parameters of “business attire.”  Though her couture was too distracting for her male co-workers, I assert that while clothes do make the man, a beautiful woman is a beautiful woman regardless of what she wears on her back. But stick an ugly woman in a Dior gown and you’ve basically got a pig in a blanket. 

not the brightestMs. Lorenzana would look stunning in burlap sack, and in this climate of bailouts and deep resentment for financial institutions by the American people, Citibank is making a huge mistake by firing an attractive woman

In these economically uncertain times, it’s the surest, safest way to “compound interest,” thereby increasing a customer’s desire to “make a deposit.”  

From the Green Room: Social Progress via McDonald's?

McDonald’s is running a gay-friendly television commercial in France, a country well known for its progressive stance on all things sexual. Before you put the inherent double entendres of terms like “McNuggets,” “Grimace,” and “Happy Meals” to good use, watch the advertisement. You will realize it is less about being gay than it is about being an utterly clueless parent.

In the spot, a teenage boy looks at his class picture, and then talks on his cell phone to someone in the photo.  He tells the person on the phone that he misses them, and then abruptly hangs up as his papa arrives at the table with “Le Big Macs.”  Dad remarks how, back in school, he was “quite the ladies man,” and that it’s too bad his son’s class is all boys, as father believes junior could follow in his old man’s footsteps and “get all the girls.”  The boy smiles knowingly, while Pops continues munching on his French fries (which in France are probably just called “fries”), completely unaware that the fruit of his loins has a special secret. 

Parents are notoriously oblivious to, well, just about everything. They’re very similar to the serial killer’s next door neighbor, who, when interviewed by the local news team after the psychopath has been apprehended, always maintains, “Gee, he never acted weird, he was such a quiet guy, pretty much kept to himself.”

Unfortunately, the reporter never adds at that point: “Um…well, the severed heads we found in his freezer must’ve sent up a red flag, didn’t they?” As the poet wrote, “When ignorance is bliss, ‘tis folly to be wise,” and in a world where oral sex has now replaced the goodnight kiss…IN MIDDLE SCHOOL…you almost can’t blame Mom and Dad for choosing to remain blind to the painfully obvious. 

One can’t help but wonder what telltale signs Daddy Dense missed during his son’s upbringing that would have suggested his son “grew out of his heterosexuality.”  But to be fair, what would be considered homosexual behavior here in the U.S. might not serve the same function in France. 

For instance, in this country, a gourmand connoisseur of fine wines who has impeccable taste in interior the McRibdesign is most certainly gay. In France, it’s merely “de rigueur.”  

Still, McDonald’s must be applauded for recognizing the homosexual community, even if it’s only to embrace them as a lucrative demographic. Especially considering that in a culture of culinary snobs, it must be difficult to market something called a “McRib.”

From the Green Room: No Celebs to Rehab?

"Dr." DrewIt’s Tuesday, and Dr. Drew has the day off.  His “Celebrity Rehab” was supposed to begin shooting its new season today, but is being put on hold indefinitely because, get this, THEY COULDN’T  FIND A BIG HOLLYWOOD STAR WITH A SUBSTANCE ABUSE PROBLEM. Which must mean one of a few possible things: the Baldwin Brothers are out of the country shooting a movie; Corey Feldman is still in mourning for Corey Haim; or Tom Sizemore is busy making another sex tape. What has happened to Hollywood? No A-Listers around who have recently hit bottom?  There are no celebrities left to rehab?  You might as well tell me that there’s no Santa Claus. 

Here’s how bad it is:  Even Lindsay Lohan is keeping clean and sober. 

this girl is sober?It seems that America's favorite train wreck has taken the pledge.   Apparently, she's been court ordered to wear an alcohol detecting anklet, and so she's been seen willing Red Bull rather than the Cosmos and shots of Jack that that have previously been her beverages of choice. She’s on an eight-can-a-day regimen, augmenting the liquid dynamite by pounding Coca Cola and chain smoking cigarettes.  Yes, the Ultimate Party Girl has substituted caffeine and nicotine for her drug and alcohol Jones.  Good for her, bad for Dr. Drew.

She’s recently been spotted slamming Kombucha tea, a particularly nasty Chinese concoction that supposedly has health benefits, among them, “restoring balance to the body.”  A rather lofty claim, until you consider that it is also fermented, albeit only with trace amounts of alcohol.  Seems she hasn’t COMPLETELY gone all Bill Wilson on us, but it’s got to be a little difficult to be taken seriously in a group therapy session with crack addicts while admitting that you’re coming off a bender after drinking something with less than 0.5% alcohol.  That’s not even 1% proof.  And for a girl who could down a quart of Bushmill’s before breakfast, that’s almost like tap water.

So desperate were they for a High Profile Person Who Gets High, the producers of “Celebrity Rehab” reportedly offered Ms. Lohan a million dollars and her own show, but she turned them down, and so they how did we, as a society, allow this person to become famous?were left with only Tila Tequila and an F-list actor from some reality show that used to be on MTV.  Not nearly enough star power to float another rubbernecking season of on-camera, soul-bearing breakdowns. We’ve pretty much seen about as much of Tila Tequila as one can without the aid of a speculum, so there won’t be much interest in watching her earn yet another coin.

At some point Lindsay is going to find out that, to paraphrase Rick James, “caffeine is a helluva drug.” After three weeks of not sleeping from the Red Bull buzz, she’ll eventually crash. And if my mother quitting coffee is any indication of how difficult a transition that is going to be…

Dr. Drew better prepare a room. 

From the Green Room: Divorce

these guys can cause divorceThe Huffington Post had a disturbing story about divorce, and how you can almost predict how long you and your spouse will last based upon certain statistics. The jumping off point is that if you’re a married American, there is already a 40 to 50 percent chance you will split up with your spouse.  It goes on to report that if you live in a Red state, you’re 27 percent more likely to divorce than if you live in a Blue state.  If only one person in the marriage smokes, you’re almost definitely going to be headed for Reno.  And if you have twins or triplets, you are 17 percent more likely to divorce, which makes you wonder why, with the six rug rats that Kate Gosselin simultaneously pumped out of her uterus, it took so long for she and hubby Jon to call it quits.  

There are some predictable factors that increase the chances your so can these guysmarriage will fail: inability to bear children, for example, or arguing about money, but there are other stats that the story neglects. For instance, if the husband, prior to marriage, lived in his parent’s basement, and regularly attends Star Trek conventions dressed as Mr. Spock, you can pretty much set your phasers on ‘Kill’ for that particular union. That is, unless his wife was okay with their wedding vows being performed in Klingon. Apparently, there is also a 47 percent more of a chance that your marriage is doomed if your partner cooks Meth, and you do not.  And as Tiger Woods, Tiki Barber and Jesse James will tell you, being caught in an extra-marital relationship with a skank also does not bode well for success.

On the Divorce 360 website, there is actually a calculator where you can enter information based on your demographic, and find out the likelihood you’ll be grateful you signed that pre-nup. I entered my data and discovered, to my horror, that after 23 years of wedded bliss, a man of my age who got married when I did has a 30 percent chance of divorcing his spouse. Despite the fact that neither my wife nor I smoke, we live in a Blue state, and we’re not Trekkies. Still, I need to go home now and give her the bad news.  

“No, there’s nothing wrong, it’s just time to pack your bags, honey.  Science has spoken.”