Pine Bros. Lozenges: What Happened?

GUYS! Remember those soft, sticky throat "lozenges" manufactured by Pine Bros? They came in boxes of cherry, honey and multi-flavored. I went through thousands of those suckers in the '80s. On and off for the past 15 years I've been wondering where the hell they've been...not wanting to believe they are truly off the market and not just lurking on some godforsaken country store shelf.

I got curious last night. Real curious. Do others miss Pine Bros.? Do others remember like I do? Or were they just a flash-in-the-pan kind of lozenge? I was pleased to see there is dialogue about my beloved PBLs. People are honoring them. People remember.

Now who can tell me what happened to DYNAMINTS? My God, I miss those.

A Pretty Cool Name for a Terrible Harp-Rock Band

Duel Vibrations.

Also, I think there should be a new genre of music that incorporates the glockenshpiel. Glock N' Roll anyone? Let's make it happen!

don't make me count!

Listening to someone try to do some simple math out loud is like mind control. Because you can't help but figure out the damn problem too. The other day this dude was in the elevator with me, ticking off numbers he was adding. I was like "no...no! i'm not adding them, i'm really not. 128! dammit."

Happy (C)Hanu(k)ka(h) Guys!

cold, november rain.

November makes me think of sweet Axl Rose. A rocker, a troubled soul, a man who looks horrible in braids.

I miss the days when Axl looked fierce.

A reminder that male braids are not always the right choice when updating your image.

Guess who just learned how to hyperlink!

Hi world (world = my readership of 4),

Apologies for disappointing you for the past month with nary a blog. I need some inspiration. Maybe I'll find it in these arms. Whoah!

love,
molly

hot steamy train

Yea, I take the train to work...HA HA HA! This is near Allentown, PA - my hometown. where steam engine trains are NOT a thing of the past. Well, a little bit in the past.

it's nice to point at your ears every now and then.

INCREDIBLE PIZZA ALERT

Last night I dreamt about pizza. Because earlier I actually ate the f'ing best I've ever had in my life. DiFara's - Avenue J and 14th st - I'm talking BROOKLYN. I'm talking take the Q train to Ave J at once and fall into a pie like none other.

It's a real unassuming place when you walk in. A bunch of long tables and chairs scattered awkwardly about. Tiers of people circled the counter, hushed, watching the owner, Domminick, and his daughter carefully and quietly make pizza. There was no yelling, no rush. Everyone was patient, and respectful. This place has been around for a long time, a real neighborhood joint. My friend and I wisely changed our order from a bunch of slices to our own pie.

We waited. And waited. People around us waited. There was anticipation, and hunger, and excitement. When our pie came out, I nearly didn't know what do with myself. Sweet Domminick gave us a plate of freshly grated parmesan to sprinkle on top. We shuttled over to a table and ate our first slices in silence. The cheese slides right off if you're not careful. Olive oil collects in the crevices of cheese and sauce. The crust is light and crunchy. Onlookers gazed at our pizza as if it were a work of art. Which it is. I ate half a pie.

The pizza was so good, as I was eating I was worried about when I would be back. When? When? Soon, so very soon.

yea, i lost your number...

Every now and then, I go through my cell phone list and delete people who make me sad and annoyed looking at their name because I used to like them and looking at their name reminds me of all the time and energy wasted thinking about how cute and awesome they are. In a frenzied fit of mild irritation, I erase their digits, thinking "HA! You'll never know that I can no longer reach you. And that is true power."

I recently had to re-ask someone for their number and there's just nothing you can say to explain why it's mysteriously "disappeared." Yea, I scrolled through my phone, you didn't make the cut, and I pressed delete. My phone totally did exactly what I wanted it to at the time, it's soooo messed up!

Hey Blog, I'm baaaack! For now.

omigod, my life is SO crazy!!!

Before I start this entry, let me just say I don't remember how to spell 'unecessary'. Part of me wants to just flat out double up on every letter. Now THAT would be uunneecceessaarry.

OK!

Ever meet someone who unecessarily emphasizes what they're saying, ya know, really AMPS it up, to make it seem like what they are saying is super exciting?

Holy Shit! I just had THE craziest week. Check it - I went to work every day. OUT OF CONTROL! I had like 1-2 quick meetings EVERY day. Went to the gym TWICE, and bumped into ONE friend in the train this morning.

Dude, the only thing you've emphasized is how BORING you are.

hey blog.

soooo, what's up? i know, i've been out of touch. i'm sorry. no, i really am. i'm not gonna say it's because i've been busy - that's such a lame excuse. i know and you know that we make time for things if we want to. i could list all the reasons why i haven't blogged but it's insulting to our relationship. not to mention that somehow in all this not-blogging i've managed to sleep a whole bunch and eat a bunch of nachos. OF COURSE I HAVEN'T! omigod, NO! i haven't been busy reading other people's blogs. why would you think such a thing? i must really disappoint you. oh blog, can we start over? please? i miss the way you publish my posts - so willingly, without judgement. you're happy i stopped by? that means so much. thank you. now that i'm here, i realize just how much i've missed you. i'll be back, soon. oh, ok - cross my heart! better?

love,
your creator and pal,
molly

I was so hungry...

it wasn't even funny!

Often times, if not always, when people say "it wasn't even funny" they are right. It isn't. Being soooo hungry or sooooo tired or sooooo wasted is not hilarious. Although it is extreme!

Happy new year...

to all the Jews! May your year be sweet and lovely. I went to temple yesterday for Rosh Hashana. This older dude played the shofar like I've never heard before. His notes were long and powerful, hard to believe there were no holes in that twisty ram's horn for note adjustment. Afterwards, I played some mean air-shofar on the temple steps.

Happy 5765!

Weekday Word Association

My brain likes to make meaningless associations with words and other words. Here's what I'm thinking about the WEEKDAYS:

MONDAY is MUNDANE
TUESDAY is a FLOOZY
WEDNESDAY is WINDY (long 'i')
THURSDAY is THIRSTY
FRIDAY is FRIED EGGY

See? No sense. It's just A LOT of folly. Thanks goodness the weekdays are out of my system!!!

Sunday night potpourri, part 2

Nectarines and tangerines aren't related (except that they are both fruit, is that enough?) yet they both have 'ines' on the end. Huh!

My new ibook is so smooth and buttery. I'd like put a finn crisp underneath and take a little bite.

Random thoughts! Random thoughts. These are my random thoughts. WOW!

OK, I guess I should turn in for the night. Tomorrow is gollydang Monday. Goodnight blog! Keep me safe from the monsters under my bed.

The Greyhound Gang

Avoid Greyhound buses at all costs. Unless you like your fellow bus members creepy. I created a new word for creepy people: CREOPLES!

secret subway couples

Ever see 2 people on the subway, sharing a pole, and you sense they are a couple but aren't sure since they are reading and not looking at each other. They don't make much eye contact or touch each other in a way you can discern as couply, and yet...yet you SUSPECT they are. And your thoughts are confirmed when one of them is getting ready to get off the train. Only then do they speak, perhaps finishing up a convo they had earlier that morn, like that 45 minutes of non-acknowledgement just didn't happen. Out of the blue the woman will be like "Peanuts grow underground! Have a great day sweetie." Cryptic.

hey, small talker!

You, the one with not a lot to say! You talk small, and I like it. Come again? Oh, yes, it is a sunny day! Just lovely. I know, everyone is outdoors walking around. So busy, busy on the streets on such a nice day. What? Oh I know. It's been such a great summer. Not too hot. Yea, it is too bad that it's ending, but I'm excited to wear layers too. Labor Day? Oh, I'm headed to the Jersey shore. You said it! It's going to be very crowded. A lot of people on the beach, but hey, it's TO BE expected on a holiday weekend. How? Oh, I'm taking the casino bus. You get almost all your money back when you redeem the coupon inside the casino. I know! Casinos sure can afford to do that since they make so much money. Oh, no! No, I don't gamble. It depresses me to see people throw away money they can't afford. You have to go now? Bye Small Talker! Let's small-talk again soon!

help! i've fallen and...

i can get up but it's TOUGH!

i think someone should create a service for young, single people who hurt themselves at home but don't want to burden friends with a hospital trip or to fetch prescriptions/supplies from the crappy rite-aid.

sick? just press the button on your new white-trash gold "medallion" necklace and a fresh-faced helper comes to the rescue with fresh o.j. and tissues. no questions asked, no guilt-trips made.

who's with me?

guess who got a digital camera!!!

okayyy...i'll LOOK at the camera but that's IT! my nephew Josh, future heartbreaker.

Sammy

Behold the future of the Reisners - we're in good hands.

ny's best kept secret - where ladies really go to score.

post-headshots - feeling pretty glam in my pancake make-up. awesome cheek shine!

my friend matthew is adorable.

yeaaaa, it's been awhile

omigoodness! i don't have time for this blog right now but i'm gonna do it anyway. typing furiously, like a crazy-crazed lady with the devil in her eyes.

FIRE!

it's in my eyes because i am so crazy crazed.

MEETINGS!

bo-ring.

NACHOS!

on my mind 24/7.

THONGS!

never.

hot 97

A friend said that only puerto ricans and black people listen to hip-hop radio station HOT 97. That's not true. I listen, I mean I don't understand what they are saying, but still!

a note on brioches

A brioche tastes like challah except for the undertones of anti-semitism. SLAM!

don't it always seem to go...

that you don't know what you've got till it's gone.

This is especially true when certain people like you and you don't like them back that way, but then they go and get themselves people who like them that way and THEN you start liking them more and more and MORE.

Thank goodness this has never happened to me!!(!)

(don't) pass the mic

Before our last Laugh Sucka! show, my comedy compadre, Melanie, and I, handed out fliers for the show. At first I tried a loud, jokey approach - "AWESOME AND FUN FREE COMEDYS SHOW!!!!!!" One gentleman greeted me with "You're awesome!" and snubbed my outstretched flier-laden hand.

Then I toned it way down.

So in a casual, familiar voice I casually, familiarly approached passerbys. "Hey, like comedy? It's free." Or sometimes i'd just be silently shaking with tears.

OK - FF (fast-forward) to the show. We netted 2 people from the street. Both old men who had nowhere else to go. The 1st one left after 5 minutes. The 2nd guy stayed the whole time. He wore a white undershirt with a special homeade message:

I'm sorry.
I forgot.
My brain is full of shit.

Actually, it wasn't even that, but something like it that made less sense. Of course his t-shirt gets some notice during the show - it's what we call "talking to the crowd" in comedy-speak. Melanie invites him up to speak after all the comics go up. It is clear he has something he wants to say. He gets up and apologizes for stuttering then launches into several minutes of incoherent sentences, peppered with "fuck yous" and other curses. I think he had Tourettes and couldn't help himself. His first sentence was kinda funny - "It's taken me 25 years to say a full sentence" but then he lost his focus. Watching him struggle with words made me uncomfortable, but he got a kick out of having the mic. So, sometimes comedy can turn into one big, crazy mitzvah - even if it makes you squirm.

i'll try anything once!

Really? Like... clean your bits of hair out of the sink once? Or maybe sweep stray garlic skin off the kitchen floor once? I thought so, daredevil.

As you can sense, I do not like when people proclaim they will try anything once, when clearly they would not. I realize they are using this statement in regards to an adventure (jumping out of a plane, threesome etc.) but the attitude behind it is irritating AND annoying. Don't say you are going to try anything once, just do it.

[end rant]

shin-tastic

BORING ALERT:

Last night I BASHED my shin in the middle of the night. It's startling how intense pain can make you feel angry and vulnerable all at once. After returning from my mid-nightly trip to the bathroom (what, this isn't normal?)I decided to take a running jump...into my sharp-edged uninstalled air conditioner. I hopped around my room, clutching my bruised, torn shin, yelling at myself for my stupid clumsiness. After some ice and ibuprofen, I was feeling... shin-tastic! I love healing.

POV: carbs

Carbs are a real "hot-button" debate issue happening in the world of nutrition education and diet fads. But why aren't our presidential candidates talking about their carb intakes? I have no idea where they stand. Does Kerry eat rolls at fancy Demmie dinners, even perhaps with a little pat of butter? Does Bush eat donuts on his "Donuts Are Good For America!!!" campaign in high donut-eating-per-capita states?

I wonder.

Personally, I am a pro-carber at heart. BUT - every now and then a little anti-carb sentiment creeps in. Society? I blame it. The other night I was enjoying an old-fashioned roll - still dusty on top with flour. Mid-gobble, I reflected on the airiness of the texture on the inside and I thought "It's a little airy - a little airy. Less carbs." I bring up this incident to illustrate the power of collective carb fear on this staunch supporter of bread.

Back to the election. My vote's up for grabs. If I see Kerry in a pro-carb photo op, I'm all his. Although a well-timed donut tour from Bush could really sway me...deciding is SO hard!

the difference between an olive garden family and a real family...

is when you're at olive garden, you must leave money at the table when you are done with your meal. also, my mom does not provide unlimited breadsticks and salad but she does make a fierce kosher chicken!

the moment before

There's a technique actors use to envelop themselves in the environment of their character - so even before they speak their response feels real and true. You're supposed to imagine what you're character just sensed right before you say your lines. I took my first ever acting class last night - it's acting for stand-up comics - and we used this "moment before" idea to prepare ourselves for our practice Mastercard commercial audition.

I had no idea how much craft and nuance went into this stuff. Basically, our scenario was you're out to lunch with your co-workers and boss, and LO AND BEHOLD! your stupid co-workers cards get declined. They didn't know any better then to use Mastercard. Chumps. But you, Mastercard holder, have the upperhand. BUT - don't be smug about it. You're a confident person - you don't go around trying to impress people like some OTHERS (snicker, snicker). So here you are, effortlessly paying for the lunch with your credit card. AND, the boss is noticing but you don't REALLY care.


Stuff I told myself to get in character:

Wow! I feel so at ease with this situation because I'm confident and because of that confidence I know to have Mastercard. It just fell in my lap. Nothing can get in my way, and it's ALL GOOD! I mean, why spend time worrying about anything - homelessness, war - shit - I got it under control with my credit card. Easy Breezy!!

Moment Before Thought:

Waiter says: Of course we take Mastercard! after co-workers get busted for their lame-ass cards.


Then we spoke WITH the camera (as if it were our friend). In the parentheses are the tone choices I made:

Ya know (friendly), life's too short to worry about making impressions on other people (you know this too, i'm sure of it). I mean, are you ever really (slightly incredulous) impressed by someone else's credit card (of course you're not, friend)?

What matter most to me about a credit card is (thoughtful pause) how it impresses me.

Mastercard gives me what I want (even love and security) - anything is possible (it's a cheery fact).

I use it when I want, where I want - day or night (you have a natural born right to this credit card) - could be Timbuktu (kinda crazy...but it could!).

Don't talk to me about impressions (i know better, and you do too. you are so smart)
Give me possibilities (bright and friendly, the future is ours!).

END

So,watchout world, I'm on to you!

hit me with your best shot

Walking through Times Square in the oddly cold damp July air, I did not mind cutting through people standing around, snapping photos. In fact, I walked right in front of their lenses not minding they were blocking my path. Now, I DO mind not seeing all these unique, beautiful photos they are capturing. Many of them will have my profile in them, and one my middle finger. Just chalk it up to a "wacky" new york moment!

slugs n' skulls

it's the name of my new band! do you like it? it's kinda earthy since you find both of these items in the ground. so...guess who's been watching too much 6 feet under??? it's been depressing the shit out of me, and yet i hunger for more. more sadness, weirdness, death, revelation, struggle, hope, and sweet man-on-man love.

i dreamt last night that the bathroom at my former beach house was filled with slugs. i had to scoop them out of the tub with a human skull on each hand. skull puppets. i wasn't sure what was more terrifying - the variation of slugs in color and size, or having my hand inside a skull and manipulating its mouth to pick up the slugs. totally barfy all the way around.

popcorn: i love and need you

I love and need popcorn.  There is a large pot on the stove that I use to pop my kernels. Did you know that the odor in microwave popcorn is harmful? It can give you cancer (over a long period of time, but still).  Throw out your compressed packets of micro-pop.  Coat the bottom of a large pot with olive oil.  Turn stove on high.  Sprinkle kernels on bottom surface of pot. Cover with lid (but leave a little opening for air), and wait! Listen!  Do you hear the popcorn popping? The kernels exploding out of their shells like manic caterpillars bursting into butterflies? It is rapid fire and you need to pay close attention.

Now, when the popping slows down to 2-3 seconds between pops, turn off the heat...unless you love burnt popcorn.  Get me? Salt and butter popcorn to desired tastes.  Do not burn butter! Burnt buttercan ruin a perfectly good pot of popcorn.

Transfer popcorn (or peeks as I affectionately call it) to a bowl.

Throw in Season 2, 3rd disc, of 6 Feet Under, munch on peeks, and contemplate how short and wasteful our lives are.

alcohol + boys = butt touching

you take 4-7 beers, add one young man struggling to figure out his place in the world and SHAZAM! your butt gets touched. my math skills are rusty but i got this one DOWN. when this happens, i look the young man in the eye and say, i do not think you are ready for this jelly! and then he walks away, offended i did not think he was ready for my jelly. it is hilarious when they get offended, as if they have a right and duty towards your jelly.

nothing better to do than eat paper

who's nibbling on paper? i am!

chiclets

My brother Danny occasionally calls me Chiclet since my front teeth are large and square like discolored white chiclets. Or he'll say, "How are your chiclets?" as if they have feelings and concerns. Which, they do. Here's me with one, full-squared, pretty darn happy Chiclet. My Chiclet is psyched because my brother Danny had just gotten b-mitzvahed which means I got to eat a lot of candy. Note the '82 ruffles.

spreading the word

i've started to spread the word that my blog is here! that it exists, ya know? i try to be casual about it, like just mentioning it in passing or adding a seemingly blase line at the end of an e-mail.

like, hey, check out my blog. you're one of the first people i told!

or, yea, i started a blog. it's kinda silly but fun. it's mainly for me anyway. it's not like i want you to read it or anything. whatever, i don't want to talk about it anymore.

so i'm getting some blog announcements printed up, no biggie.

sunday night potpourri

a mish-mosh of musty smelling thoughts floating through my brain:

1) what's so horrible about home confinement for Martha Stewart? She's a domesticzarina. How uncomfortable is 5 months at her pad, it's like a prisinn. prison+inn! get it?!?!

2) why is 7 a lucky number? 6 and 8 must be freaking jealous. i'd be! shit.

3) no one calls anyone a hobo anymore.

4) what's a funicular

5) is it odd to calculate the night before how much sleep you anticipate getting?
 
6) most potpourri smells like toilet water

new invention

sometimes when a friend asks for a pen, i rifle through my bag and BAM! a tampon pops out. i'm going to tape a pen to my tampon and next time that happens i'll be like "ooops! it's my tampen!" maybe they will use it to write things.

super cool

that is what blogger is. i'm in such a blog state of mind i can't think straight! i think i have a new crush...and his name rhymes with nogger!

lookin' good for you know who!