In tonight's mail: Steve's Christmas card. The one we sent to him. We must've gotten his address wrong; it was stamped "undeliverable."

I have to wonder if that stamp was affixed on the sixth floor of a certain facility...

The dentist found two cavities this morning -- so I go back to his office in a week for serious drilling. Why can't they make tooth-fillings with slow-release flavor? I'd get tiramisu. Or lemon-ice. Or Frangelico.

Better yet, why not an MP3-player tooth-filling? Something that'll play Rammstein to wake you up in the morning. Fishbone when you're eating party food. And "Let's-get-ready-to-rumble!" at mealtimes.

One thing I was able to confirm this morning: after a tortuous session of dental cleaning, that first cup of coffee tastes so good.

Here's a little place we call Berea-Rose. Could it become the next Mastandrea homestead? Can its walls contain all the immense ego-driven conversation? Can its kitchen produce a sufficient number of meatballs? Can its pipes withstand the looming onslaught?

Well, it's not ours yet. But it's looking better. We'll keep the Macaroni Dish updated. We'd have to add few things, of course. Like a clothesline to dry Cookie's mutandes. A crop of escarole. And a rooftop antenna so we can get Wometco Home Theater.

BTW: thanks to Geekette for straightening my crooked photo. Can you make interior home repairs using that app?

Legend has it that Little Vito once used a cucumber to accost a couple of mortadella... but that was in Vegas, and what happens there, you know...

Frylock and I chatted today about how this blog covers the highs and the lows of life. Everything from the dirty details of a rip-roaring night of drunken debauchery to the pathetic portrait of a man sitting alone in his kitchen, wearing just boxers and a wife-beater, eating leftover chicken from a pot.

It's not any one anecdote that matters -- it's how we span the gamut!

And I was so pleased to find today that the Morrissey Random Lyric Generator is still up and running. I remember laughing over that thing back in the Law Journal days. Gosh, that was almost 10 years ago. Is the Web really that old?

Wow.

J-omaha is out with college buddies tonight. . .I am home eating a bowl of Cheerios. . .and yeah, it's because I don't want to dirty up all the pots and pans just cooking for me. . . .Your chicken dish sounds good, John, but when it's just me I revert to cold cereal or simple things. . .like mortadella and peanut butter sandwiches (if there is a cucumber in the fridge, I often add that to it as well). . .now if that isn't enough to put you all in to the mood to diet, I don't know what will.

I was looking for a blog and then I found Steve's blog... and heaven knows I'm miserable now.

THIS BLOG NEEDS AN ENEMA!!!

I told John I would begin tonight's entry as a public call to arms: Mastandreas take up they keyboard and blog. We all know that a Mastandrea sees more bizarre sights in an hour than the average man sees in a lifetime...and we have been fortunate to have so many amazing stories passed down orally from our parents and grandparents , but the blog provides a guarantee that our stories never stop being passed down. So lets share our lives, even if your life seems like its uneventful...those who love you want to hear you.

And I hate to bring this up, when you don't blog, John turns into Morrissey..just today I distinctly heard him singing: "I was posting on the blog and then I read the blog...and heaven knows I'm miserable now".

Speaking of Morrissey, did I mention I got the greatest gift of all time today....and I'm serious: a genuine Morrissey watch which made it to me from Hong Kong. Who knew he was such a star there? I seriously can't wait to show it off. Also wanted to mention that this Sunday I'll be going to the WWE Royal Rumble. I'm thinking of taking My Four Horsemen mask and seeing if I can maybe get into the ring. Which brings me to my next topic: those who know me, know along with my desire to drive the Weinermobile, my other lifelong dream is to possess a championship belt. I secretly wish that instead of a diploma, highschool and college graduates were presented a championship belt...that way I'd have more than one that I could alternate on different days of the week. My Uncle Andy has a belt that resembles a championship belt. Anyway, Im at BazzukaJoe's house right now and therefore don't want to hog up his computer for too long. But I'm gonna finish with one last thought...one time back during the wonder years on Marisa Circle, Joe Sarcona (aka Joe Shtrimps) passed some particularly nauseating methane gas in our family rec room and in his infinite wisdom, tried to dull the smell by pouring bottled cologne directly onto his ass. The result? A room that smelled of shit and Cool Water. He apparently thought this would be less embarassing than simply admitting to a fart...luckily with Mark Ward, Chris Grant, BazzukaJoe and I in the room, we helped him recognize his error. I'm outta here. G'nite all.

Cooking for one is blowjhinski. Tonight I stopped at CVS in Bronxville on my way home. Alane left a prescription there... In 2005. They'd already put it back into inventory, so I had to wait for them to refill it. Then I went to Food Emporium to get some basics, then to the wine shop to see if they had any Lusignian -- a dessert wine made in Armenia and bottled in Cyprus. Had some at Andre's on Saturday. It is not to be found in Bronxville. So I got the biggest bottle I could find of the cheapest vermouth on the shelf. And I lugged the whole load to Tuckahoe, one short mile away.

In the refrigerator was chicken that I'd packed last night in the mustard-flavored salad ddressing that was lousy on salad but great as a marinade. I pan-browned the chicken, parked it in the oven for a few minutes, then back to the stovetop to add some spinach leaves for the last minute. I put it all atop white rice from the rice-cooker. Not bad... But it sure makes a lot of commotion (and a lot of dirty dishes) when the only person eating is me.

Should this have gone onto Pugliese Table?

No matter. I'm sitting here now with a rum-and-coke (still trying to polish off the holiday spirits). One of those really annoying Ameriprise commercials is on the TV -- the commercials that pander to baby-boomer nostalgia. I despise baby boomers. And their 60s nonsense. I'm just about ready to pull my investments from Ameriprise. Because I hate their ad campaign. And because they won't insure our new house (maybe they're onto something -- even we are starting to wonder if this house is more of a death-trap than we wanted).

The rum is now gone. Bring on the cheap vermouth!

This afternoon I jogged northward, out past Crestwood and up to the Leewood intersection (going southward toward Bronxville you never know who's going to drive by and mock the color of your sweatshirt). The woods got a real beatin' from last week's windstorm -- lots of fallen branches and downed trees strewn alongside the path. Makes me wish I already had a fireplace... one that didn't require several thousan dollars of repairs... oh, and a pickup truck... and I suppose I'd need a chainsaw too.

Okay, forget it. I'll do like Guido and burn chemical logs. And financial documents -- I got boxes of ancient phone bills and credit card receipts and I really need a shredder. Or a fire.

Also being discarded this weekend is a stack of old VHS tapes. Among them: the infamous tape of the Fishbone concert that was broadcast on HBO some dozen-or-so years ago. Bazzukajoe and Frylock stayed up late that night to tape it for me, and as they watched they wondered... "Why would anyone want a copy of this?"

Alas, the tape had deteriorated over the years -- the video had become too jumpy and unstable for me to capture any of it to computer file (like I did for several other choice clips, heh heh).

Next challenge: convincing Andre to do a DVD conversion of that Betamax tape we made of ourselves having that barbecue in his Queens backyard in February 1984. There's gotta be blackmail-quality footage of somebody in there... someone hopefully not me.

It's been trying to snow here for two days. The only one happy about it is our long-coated Akita, Tarka.

Just got back from the Beefsteak -- what a night. Every year the crowd seems to grow larger. But the class of 1984... what a bunch of deadbeats. Just Ed and Andy and myself. Sure, Mike called to send his regrets. And he passed along the regrets of Rich. And Andre couldn't come because he's gotta prep for Alexa's birthday party -- I understand all that. But c'mon. As for class fo 1982, yeah, we had a few. I got a chance to catch up with Kevin and tell him of my impending move (he knew this would happen). He and I exited the building together when it alll wrapped up. We accosted some X-Squad members who were congregating on the corner of 16th and 5th, and then met up with two grads from the 70s... We struck up conversation with them and followed them to Union Square where we met up with their wives and somehow found our way into a loud downstairs bar. There we drank even more, talking over the loud music, glorying in ancient tradition. I was drinking way too much wine and finally excused myself to go find the subway. On the IRT to Grand Central I caught my reflection in the window of the door -- I remember thinking my head looked very much like a slab of lunchmeat. A mortadella with eyeglasses. I also remember thinking: "Wow, I really need to take a piss." I took care of that on the Metro North train -- you gotta love those little restrooms. The Beefsteak Dinner was surprisingly tame this year. Not a lot of animalistic grunting when the beef was served. And the one woman brought along as a guest this year (there's always at least one) did not seem to lost and frightened. People asked about Joe-maha -- I reported to them the limoncello incident. I owe Kevin even more drinks by now. But all in all a good time was had by all... and I... I need to drink some more water because I'm going to have a huge headache when I wake up in a few hours.