Wednesday, May 30, 2012

Live from 1407!

What you see below is not another piece of amazingly original crayon art, but an actual photo taken today in 1407. 
     Things have gotten a bit steamy in the District over the past few days, and nowhere more so than here in 1407.  Why, you ask?  Because we're going green!  Who cares if it's 95 degrees and 112% humidity out there?  The Earth doesn't get a break, and so why should we?!  Shaulleen has sworn of air conditioning for the summer and things have never been better.  Hair is bigger and curlier.  Shirts no longer require ironing.  And there is a LOT more exposed skin.

     So come over soon and come over often, because until our crazy Russian landlord figures out how to fix this (or, preferably just hires someone who actually can), we are running a full-time sauna &/or Bikram studio.  (Be on the lookout for our upcoming LivingSocial deal!) 

     Sweaty is SO the new sexy.
 

Thursday, May 24, 2012

Shaun versus Animals Part II: Reptilia

First off, welcome back us!  We've spent the last month damaging various bodily organs, healing them, and then damaging them all over again.  Somewhere in between that mayhem, we successfully replicated Mandalay's world famous Pork Mango dish, and built a patio!  But we're back now, with semi-fresh material!  Fyodor, our one loyal Russian subscriber, can breathe a sigh of relief.  We're sorry comrade.  We'll never leave you like that again.  

And now for the fun stuff:

With this second installment, "Shaun versus Animals" is officially a recurring column.  One more and we got ourselves a saga. 

Today's match:

The breakdown:

Shaun:  
     Having previously defeated an ornery swarm of bees, I am feeling confident about my ability to take on nature's most ferocious beasts in mortal combat.  The past few weeks were spent bathing in calamine lotion, studying the Swayze-dog's moves in Roadhouse (paint don't hurt), and working religiously on my CORE.  So much of one's strength is derived from the CORE.  I become a Romanesque statue of a man.  I am more powerful that ever!
     With 25 hours of energy (and a bag of pork rinds) coursing through my veins, I stride confidently onto the battlefield, ready to take on whatever creatures Intelligent Design can thrown at me.  There is a low rustling sound in the nearby brush.  Something is approaching.  What could it be?  Aardvark?  Alligator?  Anaconda?  I keel over laughing - three lowly snapping turtles.  Is that the best you got?  I bend down to give one a patronizing pat on the shell, when it suddenly leaps up and latches it's boney beak onto my middle finger.  As hard I try, I can't shake him.  A second turtle snaps right through the tough leather of my Rockports, taking a pinkie, ring and all, with it. 
     As the shelled reptiles chomp at my phalanges, I quickly realize the err of my ways.  I spent so much time perfecting my core, I neglected to study up on my potential enemies.  Otherwise, I'd have known that common snappers are noted for their belligerent disposition, their powerful beak-like jaws, and their highly mobile head and neck.  Sun Tzu is rolling over in his grave.
     I'm in serious trouble; I'm bleeding like a New York Ranger (this was relevant when I first wrote it).  Don't freak out.  Breathe.  Amidst the pain and panic, I reach a Bodhi-esque state of clarity.  What do I know about turtles?  Their tough shell is too hard to penetrate with punches and kicks.  I could wring their necks, but it puts my hands far too close to their dangerous jaws.  Then I remember that annoying kid from high school who would always make this stupid hand gesture during uncomfortable social interactions.
      That's it!  Awkward turtle!  If I can just get these hell-beasts on their backs, there might be a chance for victory.  Like a less angular Adam Levine, I shake the the turtles off with moves like Jagger.  After a few well placed kicks, I've got them on their backs.  As they helplessly flail their wrinkled limbs, I deliver death stomps to their soft underbellies.  It's finally over.  I pick up one of my felled opponents and place his ooze filled shell upon my head like a battle helmet.  With slightly less digits than when I started, I stagger home to nurse my wounds and watch the latest episode of New Girl on DVR.  She's just so adorkable. 

Winner:  Shaun (and the good people at Fox Network).


Colleen:     
     When we last left our hero, weak and swollen from innumerable bee stings all over his body, he had found sanctuary in the depths of a forest pond.  The relief he felt, both from the soothing, cool water on his stings and from escaping the relentless swarm trailing him, was immense.  He was overcome with joy and appreciation for life.  Or he would've been, had he not been still mentally reeling from the effects of the stings.  Shaun lay back in the water, injured but alive, and thanked the gods that he had kept up with his running over the years.
     As he gazed up languidly from the water, filled with a sense of pride from having outsmarted Nature, he all of the sudden felt a little nip on his shoulder.  Assuming it was a passing minnow, Shaun didn't worry about it, but started to tread away so as to not disturb the creature.  BIG.  MISTAKE.  He swam right into a group of snarling, snapping turtles!  Having already sensed a disturbance in their territory, the turtles were on high alert.  They took no time at all to commence ferociously biting at Shaun's appendages, crunching down hard onto fingers, toes, and elbows alike.
     Not quite sure how to defend himself against these armored animals, he frantically grabbed two turtles by the tails and swung their shells together in comic book-esque fashion.  He could almost see the *CLUNK!* that would be pictured above their heads in bold, jaggedly outlined lettering.  The action paid off, however, as the turtles were rendered unconscious immediately.  "Victory!"  Shaun thought, though he fully recognized that he was still under massive turtle-assault.  He continued to slam the shelled beasts together, while still kicking at more by his feet.  POW!  SLAM!  KER-PLUNK!  Shells were cracked, and turtles were flying.  Shaun was down a pinkie toe, but remained resilient in the fight for his life and limbs.  Slowly but surely, one by one (and two by two), the mass of turtles dissipated.  Shaun felt weak from the onslaught, but high on adrenaline he persisted in defending himself to the last reptile.  Shaun, awash with fatigue, collapsed on the reedy banks, victorious.
     When he was finally able to wrest himself out of the mud and limp back toward civilization, he couldn't help but smile to himself and think, "Tonight I will feast on turtle soup."
Winner:  Shaun.