monzyummylunch

Lunch?!

How can you people think about lunch with all those scenes of devastation, human misery, tragic...ok, we admit, the reason we're not blogging much today is that Monz had an uninspiring dittolunch (more from circumstances than content) and the editors went to the Body Worlds exhibit and it affected their appetites, though all feel bad about what's going on.

Torn Between Porn and Scorn!


Upon opening the myl mailbox, the editors found this compelling, heart-tugging plea for help:

Dear Monz:

I really need some advice. For years I have struggled with a conflict raging inside of me. One one hand, I am a huge fan of [famous actress]. She has only done one nude scene in her career, in a Laotian art-house film. I hear it's ultra-erotic, but it's also ultra-rare. It has never been released and I've only seen one reference to a bootleg copy. It wasn't even on ebay, it was some dude on USENET who wouldn't sell it to me but insisted that I give him a "trade list." I desperately compiled everything that I had, but the only thing he said he was interested in was my videotaped collection of "Bob" -- the early 90's CBS Bob Newhart CBS series. I sent him copies but never heard from him again! Since then I have searched far and wide. Tiny classified ads in film-buff magazines. Searche engines. Metasearch engines. Nothing, until one day a link turned up for the scene in [name of large internet commercial "nekid celebrities" site]. It said the clip could be mine to download...for $8.95! My heart leapt, but then sank. You see, I come from a strict Pentacostal-offshoot church and if word ever got back to my family or the elders...it would just not be good. But this site insists on a credit card!!! The wife would ask, what is "[name of attempt to be discreet company]" and might call the 800 number listed with it before I came home from work! But I need that scene! Oh what can I do Monz, what can I do?!?!

Monz comes through: "Normally I'd advise that you join an online group, find a buddy, and send him some cash to download it for you. But whatever you do, don't go to CVS and buy one of those prepaid MasterCard (tm) debit cards that can be used just like a credit card, because when you go online to activate it you have to provide a bunch of info and even if you use a false name/address/etc. like "Joe Schmo, 000 Anonymous Street, Anywhere, NY 11101" U.S. law requires a social security number and even though these aren't reported to credit agencies, you wouldn't want to enter a wrong number now would you? Most importantly, be sure your clip conforms to 18 USC Sec. 2257 and the related 28 CFR 75, because those Laotian art house films are notorious for pushing the erotic boundaries. Or so I hear. I'm off to eat my lunch, which is a repeat of yesterday's lunch except I'm eating it at my new office suite! Good luck!"

Repeat After Us!

Last Thursday the Kundalini Yoga folks presented the editors with another seminar opportunity. This time the editors respond on behalf of the Monz:

"What do you wish for; what do you desire?" [A yummy lunch!] Are you sending out the vibratory frequency to manifest your highest destiny?" [If you mean do I got the Love Vibration, hell yeah!] Mantras - words or phrases composed of sacred sounds - allow you to tune into a higher level of consciousness where you can maneifest your deepest wishes and desires." [Give me my sh%# back, give me my sh#% back, give me...] The obligatory Yogi Bhajan quote: "Mantra is two words - 'man' 'tra,' 'Man' means mind. 'Tra' means the heat of life. 'Ra' means sun. So, mantra is a powerful combination of words which, if recited, takes the vibratory effect of each of your molecules into the Infinity of the Cosmos. That is called "Mantra." [Oh, I send molecules into the infinity of the cosmos all right!]

We further believe that in response to the above, Monz would offer the following three-step alternative. Eat a lunch comprised of a turkey-tavernham sandwhich, banana and apple, bang a gong, and get it on!

Monzyummylunch Changed My Life!

After receiving the many inspiring e-mails about last week's gong post, the editors set out on a noble, Monz-inspired quest: to change his fans lives for the better. Forever. We thus searched out things/devices/products that people claimed "changed my life." And because Monz' fans don't have all day, we meticulously weeded out those false promissors of hope which, in actually, require effort, like "the book that changed my life." Little did we realize how much effort we would have to put-in to avoid other shams: bad advertising copy from weight-loss hcksters and the like. Oh no, the following life-boosters are thoroughly researched. After all, the Monz would have nothing less. So without further ado, in increasing order of "life changingness":

Tivo / DVD recorder.

Blackberry (we suspect similar devices will do).

The George Foreman Grill for use making peanut butter and banana sandwiches.

The Neti Pot.

"Hope in a jar".

And finally, by-far the device with the most claims of improving your life, the Beer Bong, but you better get it while you can.

There is but-one question remaining: can any of the above beat a Russell's lunch so yummy that Monz goes out of his way to the old offices (where he forgot to bring it home) to bring downtown for lunch today?

We Like the Cut of Your Jib!

We had a life-altering post lined-up for today (no joke), but we need to put it off one day to present the unfiltered eloquence of one zealous advocate's lunch. As for the capitalized-letter song reference, to paraphrase the great Jeff Jarrett on wrestling: "To those who understand no explanation is needed, to those who do not no explanation would suffice."

>>Today was - hopefully - the last day in Maywood court for awhile. Yes, it was prove up time. Months of arguing and tense negotiations were over and, as attorney for the Petitioner, my jib was to prove up this judgment and get these people on with their lives. My paralegal didn't show, so I had to hand write the 2-year stip [we love state court - IP-but-sometimes-pro-bono-in-state-court editor], though the clerk later mentioned she had some preprinted one stashed in drawers. After it was over, I needed to go to Russell's for one last yummy Russell's lunch (at least for awhile). I got there too early, and feeling wistful I decided to drive around and find the old house (HOUSE!) I (I!) Used (USED!) to live in. I was nervous rounding the corner because I saw lots of obvious port-teardown monstrosities. But, there it was, the home that Monz took his early dumps and weasels in, tentative baby-burps, the house where my sister posed for photos before going to see the Beatles, the house where our dog ate a tree, the house that flooded endlessly so we had to move. There was a big dumpster out front, and I could see the outline of a contractor through the big picture window in front. So it looks like the house is getting redone, and not torn down, so that is cool. I'll try and come back sometime soon to take some pics through the window -- I could see the fireplace I recognized from those old photos through the window. Then I cruised away and went to Russell's and ordered a yummy pork and baked potato. In a few short moment, I will eat this yummy beast-wich! Makes me wanna go to a pig-roast! It really does!<<

Insouciance!

We've heard it said on many an ocassion that condo developers tend to posses a certain character trait that may charitably be described as "insouciance." Such was the case over the past 48 hours with one of the editors. His building had been purchased by such a character and after declining their generous offer to sell him the unit for over $300,000, he has been awaiting the horrors to come. Such a horror appeared to arive Sunday night, when shoved under his door was a "48 Hour (minimum) Inspection Notice"

"This notice is to inform you that a Purchase Agreement has been executed on the above-indicated unit. Pursuant to terms of your lease agreement, you are hereby notified that an inspection of your unit will take place on TUESDAY, AUGUST 23rd between the horus of 6:00PM and 8:00 PM. It is anticipated that the amount of time spent in your unit will be between three to ten minutes. No action is required on your part for this inspection. An Agent of the Building Owner will be present at all times during the inspection and will verify that the unit is secured upon completion of the inspection.."
(emphasis supplied)

That night, early Monday morning, Monday night and early Tuesday morning, the editor cleaned his apartment so to deceive the new owner as-to just how much of a slob he was (think junkie without the drugs) or have the inspector blame him for whatever faults might be found. Tuesday night he sat in front of the tv, sipping a Diet Rite cola and feeling out-of-sorts in the surprisingly feng-shuied settings. Outside he noticed one of the now daily condo sales event (a bbq cookout) going on. The minutes passed. Garcia was throwing a no-hitter for the White Sox, but Santana was keeping pace for the Twins. At 7:20PM there was a knock on the door, but it was a salesperson along with one of the barbeque-ers, a depressingly young moppet boy whose hands looked like they'd been soaking in Marge's Palmolive (tm) for years. Could they look around, she asked? "Um, supposedly there's an inspector coming here and I'd really not want to do this twice, do you thi..." "Oh, that's ok, we can look at an "A" or "B" unit" and they left. By 7:50 the editor was getting suspicious and called the sales office. Could the barbeque sales event have been the "inspector" after all? "Yeah, that's what those were for" said the voice who answered. Soon aftewards one of the Twinkies blasted a homer off of Garcia (for their one and only hit of the game, but it proved to be the gamewinner).

Monz, of course, is never insouciant, especially when eating a White Castle in front of hundreds of hungry people. However today he was at Au Bon Pon for a Southwestern Tuna Wrap (chili-Dijon, cheddar cheese, tomatoes, romaine, sprouts and carrots in a lahvash wrap).

Remember the Poet, You Need Him and You Know It!

"In case you were wondering" said the familiar voice on the phone, "no lunch today."
"No lunch? That's awful! How come?"
"Too busy helping at my hon's new office. Plus I got a new client."
"How does that make you feel?"
"Empty!"

And at this a chill decended on the office. Words failed us. To find the right words we turned to the experts: poets! First we comissioned a poem for the ocassion:

Mark Monz did not eat lunch, leaving him feeling empty
Well, sort of like your uncle, rather,
Funny Clown, bunch a balloons
many a wistful wife who yearned for hers.

Still unsatisfied, we sought to find an appropriate, pre-written poem. We were referred to a poem by Anthony Thwaite titled "Mr. Cooper" ("a poem about graffiti in a pub toilet") but have not yet been able to locate it. Anyone in possession of this poem or understand what connection it has to Monz are directed to contact the editors.

Talking Turkey!

Monz reports he is back downtown, meaning another TurkeyDerby sandwich, still going strong. Still, we wondered if we couldn't improve on perfection, so the editors ventured out for a November Turkey (on such a chilly summer's day). Our first reaction was "damn, this is yummy!, and even with chips and a drink it was less than the Corner Bakerthief. But then around 3PM the tryptophan kicked-in and we started snoozing. Except the current events editor, who thinks the turning point in the Iraq War was when President Bush allowed the Kurds to bully us into rejecting Turkey's offer of 10,000 border patrol troops in 2004. Whatever, dude.

Monkey Mind!



Yesterday the editors came across the following information:

"Do you have a "monkey mind" -- one that jumps from thought to thought? Do you have difficulty falling at sleep at night because your mind is racing? The sound of the gong has been used for centuries as a tool to quiet the mind....Imerse yourself in the healing vibration of the gong - tensions from all parts of your body(emphasis added - health editor) will be reduced, the gladular system will be stimulated (!) and deep releaxation will be the result. You'll discover the quiet place in your mind that only comes from experiencing the sounds of the ancient gong!" And if that wasn't enough, there's this blurb from Yogi Bhajan, yes, the same Yogi behind Yogi Tea(which is myl recommended, seriously!): "The gong is the first and last instrument for the human mind. There is only one thing that can supersede and command the human mind -- the gong."

Wow! Now you could sign-up for classes, but with that kind of power, there's no way the Monz would let us hesitate to help his fans! Even more amazing, this very day, Monz was yingyanging, picking up his new computer at his old offices, and making a nostalgic visit to the China House (a/k/a the old Chinese place for you newcommers) for a small Chicken Egg Foo. And like Ginny said about Rock and Roll, it was all right!

Stop the Presses!

The editors were all set to roll the presses with a dittoish lunch, when word came to the myl offices that a sudden life-altering curveball had caught the outside corner of Monz' hon's new office. How did one of the hon's partners react? By bringing in some in with spicy rolls (sushi) from marshall fields and offering some up. Of which Monz partook, even after downing the full dittolunch. "They were Yummy! A surprise bit of yumminess!" And Monz didn't even pay for the extra -- now that's how to WIN!

Our Tears Flow Like Rain!

The music editor was trembling this morning when, after years of searching, he discovered the name of that utterly sublime power-pop song which brings a tear to your eye quicker than Jani Lee can dry his hair: "Grow Yourself Up" by the previously identified Van Duren. Frustratingly, the released version pales to the one on that demo tape (though the M.E. is mighty-impressed that the tape really was a demo tape, having believed it was just a bad dub of a commercial release). But after the tears of joy came the tears of sorry, as we learned that Monz was toiling away at his hon's firm sans hun! And no Turkey Derby to ease the misery. Just a home-crafted turkey-ham sandwhich on whole grain from whole foods, apple and banana, though Monz still found lunch pleasing.

The Word Is Spreading!



UPDATE!:
Today's lunch was a home-cooked brat distilled to its finest essence. Not topically seasoned. Not infused with brew. "[J]ust poor tortured and murdered baby cow goodness. And an apple."

(User tip: images on monzyummylunch can be more easily viewed by double-clicking on the image, which will then expand).

Guide for the Perplexed!

It was a conflicted Monz who reported today's lunch: "I don't know how to say this...don't have a good intuitive feel...anything I say could blow up in my face..." Monz is talking about a turkey beef sub from Tony's Subs. Tellingly, unlike last visit, they refused to put the olive muffaletta on the side, instead spreading it on the sub itself. We believe Monz is over-thinking this lunch. After all, there are truly confused people in the world.

Taking Stock of the Situation!

Today Monz, admitting he's in a rut, has another Turkey Derby from Corner Bakery. In sympathy rutness, the editors head to the CB in the Sears Tower and order it up. Hmmm, more subtle than we expected. But that price tag! Ok, we had the chips and a bottle of water (Corner Bakery house brand) and it was close to $9.00!

To make up for such a loss, the editors will need to invest in the stock market. And since a journey to riches begins with a single step, discussion ensued over which should be the first choice. 1-800-Lawyers.com had a snarky appeal. Memories of hours on hold with the phone company pointed to SBC, under a "if you can't beat 'em, join 'em" kind of deal. Then it hit us -- let's ask the Monz! Through a painstaking process of elimination, Monz provided the answer: we'll buy that for a (thirty-nine) dollar(s, plus transfer fee)!

Chicken Fries, You're Just Not Right for Our Blog, Monzyummylunch!

But a Turkey Derby consumed at the wife's new firm is! By the way, supporters of the blog are encouraged to get Monz a Blackberry/Treo/pger/etc.

Disorder in the Court!

The MYL legal editor, still reeling from those felonious fake fowlfries, thought he had done ok. Gamely making it to the open case status quo for a pro bono adoption, he securred the desired continuance and discovered that the sole outstanding matter may have been resolved by default. Then he got back to the office and was told his fly was open like a barn door on a 94 degree great plains afternoon. Things would have been different if he had had Monz' lunch, a ditto of yesterday's sandwich, carrots, apple and a banana! Bananas are on the BART diet, you know...

The Fries Lie!

Normally we'd be very excited by Monz' smocked turkey and black forest ham sandwich accompanied by blueberry yogurt, especially when it was accompanied by progress on Monz' new sweet office suit. Alas, the editors suffered food poisoning from some BK "chicken fries" (which don't resemble fries as much as they claim) and were very ill all day.

When You Wish Upon A Bone Your Ash Comes True!

While doing a slacker Friday cleaning of the myl offices, the religion editor came across a 1999 printout of an Amazon.com listing for Wishbone Ash's "There's the Rub." Neither the editor or anyone else in the office could remember what could have possibly prompted such an inquiry. Still, we were intrigued by the customer review of "Music Fan from Milwaukee" who wrote "INCOMPARABLE GUITAR WORK. For over 20 years, every time I've played this album for non-Ash fans, they've completely flipped. "Who is that?!" You wont' find better guitar work anywhere and the sound is as fresh as if it were recorded yesterday. You'd have to be dead not to find this album utterly superb."

So, naturally, we decided to ask the Monz for his opinion of Wishbone Ash. "Wishbone ash...Hmmmmmm. Everytime I see their name on the satellite radio, I say "Ugh! Wishbone Ash! Crap!" Then I listen to it a little, and relative to my initial gut reaction, I say, "Not that bad."

But let us tell you, lunch was Russell's BBQ pork with a baked potato instead of fries. Everytime we serve this meal to non-Russell's fans, they flip. "Yummm - what is that?!" You won't find better fast bbq beast work anywhere and the meat is as fresh as if it were butchered yesterday. You'd have to be dead not to find this lunch utterly superb.

Christmas in August!

Today's lunch is the same as yesterday's lunch, except Monz is working at home. So we'll take this opportunity to launch an investigation that would perplex Patrick Fitzgerald: who is "The Secret"?! To the uninitiated, since 1988 someone has been anonymously sending Monz a Christmas present (and card). Monz is of the firm belief that it is someone on the myl editorial staff, however this individual has vigorously denied it and has offered to submit to a lie detector test and provide handwriting samples. Same individual had a suspicion that it was somebody from Monz' MFA program, but this theory has lost its explanatory power over the years. Thus on behalf of Monz and the eternal quest for the truth (largely one and the same), we solicit any sleuthing suggestions. Even indirect ones like this one!

Clearer Skin, We Guarantee It!

The editor in chief shares the following story in the hopes that it will help someone out there. Like many other adults who suffer in silence, the EIC suffers from adult acne. Not "oh my G_d, you're 40 and you have pimples on your face!" acne but the "oh my G_d, I'm 40 and I'll get pimples if I don't use this s***"!" acne. Usually the EIC purchases such products while doing some weekend shopping for the folks, when he can hide the purchase behind the cloak of anonymity that a long shopping list and full shopping cart provides. But this past weekend he was at the folks' both days and Sunday, and thus was only doing his own shopping at Jewel/Osco when he placed the Neutrogena (tm) clear poor oil-controlling astringent in his cart. Then, in the prepared food section ("gasp!" - Monz) the bottle slipped through the wide railings at the top of the cart and tumbled to the floor, where apparently the cap wasn't on tight enough and some squirted out. Dismayed and disgusted, the EIC was about to put the bottle on an empty space on the shelf by the Betty Crocker Complete Meal Beef Stroganoff ("gasp!" - Monz), when he noticed someone behind him. It was a high school girl wearing a spaghetti strap top and low rider jeans that she almost but not quite could get away with. Her expression was a cutting combination of bemusement and disgust. The EIC placed the bottle back in the cart, along with the hastily grabbed beef stroganoff, and stared intently at the Chicken Helpers (tm) while she passed by. Obviously we should have stayed home for a turkey breast sandwich, cheddar cheese and mustard on WG bread, with apples and carrots, like the Monz. That's what we get for having mocked Vanessa Williams.

Toil!

Starting a new firm isn't all glamour and glitz, it's hard work. Today Monz is at his wife's new firm's temporary office space working on their computers. The office orders in Turkey Derby sandwiches from Corner bakery, "which were pretty good." Monz speculates "[t]hey seem to be turkey on wheat, with 1000 Island dressing and cheese and lettuce. Also included chips and a pickle." The Corner Bakery Web Site says they are "hickory smoked turkey breast, leaf lettuce, plum tomato slices, and Swiss cheese on our whole grain harvest bread with Thousand Island dressing." Wow is Melman overpaying his webmasters or what?

R.I.P.!

"What are you doing?! shouted one of the editors as he drove the Monz to check out the Gerald Ford Museum in Grand Rapids, Michigan. They had just stopped at McDonalds and the editor was increasingly perplexed by the Monz' breakfast (two steak/egg/cheese bagel sandwiches, with Monz discarding the top bagel half and gobbling up everything but the bottom half). "I'm Atikinsing!" Which kinda made the trip to the great vegetarian restaurant kinda uneventful. Anyway, we presume that Monz is mourning the bankruptcy of the good doctor's diet company -- why else wouldn't he report on lunch?