Name: Samson
Cab Number: 28
Least Favorite Fares: Old White Politicians with Black Prostitutes
Line: My Cab Ain’t No Motel.
Home Base: DC Cab Company, Chinatown

Ah, DC Cab. What a movie. Made in 1983 in Murder-Capital-Of-The-World days, it captures a DC that is long gone past. Well, except for the crazy cabbies, those, we still have. DC Cab features Paul Rodriguez as Xavier (the Gigolo), Gary Busey as the racist Dell, and lovable Mr. T as Samson, an anti-drug, pink wrist-band wearing cabbie who’s looking out for his niece.

Out of that crowd, Samson is the most outstanding. He’s always looking out for his hood, always looking our for the kids of his neighborhood. He even manages to unseat the pimps for the sweetest car in town. And, except the whole carjacking thing, he seems to be an upright individual. He gives an amazing speech on the foot of the Lincoln Memorial that gives me chills.

Besides, you know you want to rent it, just for the Peabo Bryson theme. Everyone loves Peabo, right?

This post appeared in its original form at DC Metblogs

With all this talk about coffee and donuts going on, I’d like to announce the physical manifestation of all our ramblings:

A Dunkin Donuts on 17th Street NW, between P & Q.

Is this a quick result of the DD expansion plans or just a freak coincidence? Its DC, let’s go with the conspiracy theory. And let us mourn Pop Stop.

Situated right next door, Pop Stop (or cyber whatever its called now) ain’t gonna last long in its current incarnation with this kinda competition.

This post appeared in its original form at DC Metblogs

Name: Clarice Starling
Occupation: Special Agent, Federal Bureau of Investigations

Born and raised in West Virginia, Clarice was orphaned at a young age when her security guard father was shot and killed by robbers. No doubt this early experience helped push her towards law enforcement, though there are other indications she possesses a strong urge to help those that cannot help themselves. Aside from a brief stint with a foster family, she was raised in a Lutheran orphanage. She first came to our area as a student at University of Virginia and stayed on to go through the FBI academy at Quantico. Post-graduation she settled in Arlington.

Agent Starling would have her “fifteen minutes” before she’d even fully graduated from the academy, working as a provisional agent on the Buffalo Bill case. The most important aspects of that work happen in Baltimore, talking to Hannibal Lecter where he’s imprisoned in a mental institution. Of course the big achievement was catching Buffalo Bill and his lotion all by herself.

Supposedly Agent Starling did a bunch of other stuff seven or eight years father along in her career, however the description of it is so absurd I can’t relate it in good conscience.

First appearance: The Silence of the Lambs (book)
Also seen in The Silence of the Lambs (movie)
Some person with her name but completely inconsistent behavior also appear in Hannibal (book) and Hanibal (movie) but it’s clearly not her.

This post appeared in its original form at DC Metblogs

If you’re like me, you used to read or at least look at the photos in National Geographic when you were a kid. There was no internet, there was no PS2, and your family vacation was usually to a boring city somewhere in the Midwest. But your folks, or maybe your crazy aunt Cindy, at least someone you knew had a subscription to National Geographic. Every month, that bold yellow cover had some sort of amazing photo on it that made you think, “Wow. Why can’t we go there on vacation?”

I digress.

My point is, if you don’t have a few grand laying around to go on safari in Africa, why not take the Metro up to our wonderful National Zoo and shoot take photos of the exotic animals there instead? Granted, many times they are asleep, hiding in a cave, or looking a little rough around the edges, but you never know…you might just get a shot like MeepFly did.

One of my favorite things about nature is the unexpected patterns that you can find if you just stop to take a look. What makes this photo great, aside from the color, lighting, and composition, is the pattern that these flamingos make. These are live animals that have somehow lined themselves up like a chorus line just to take a nap.

The weather should be nearly perfect this weekend. Get your camera off of the shelf, go up to the zoo, and see what kind of critters are waiting for you and your lens.

This post appeared in its original form at DC Metblogs

If you are in need of used hotel furnishings, say because you want to recreate business travel boredom in your own home, then head to the St. Regis Hotel.

Today and this weekend they are selling off truck loads of hotel stuff. If you want the good stuff, be prepared to pay.

If you are like me and would rather not be reminded of nights lost in odd places, do yourself a favor: go Craigslist and go unique.

This post appeared in its original form at DC Metblogs

The Post this morning announced that Michael A. Brown has left the mayoral race with just scant days before the election (Quitting on Friday before a Tuesday election?! Good God.) and has thrown all six of his supporters behind Linda Cropp. Brown is apparently pouty that Adrian Fenty was doing better in the polls, despite less experience and hair. It’s unknown at this point whether or not this is really just an excuse for him not to feel disappointed in his vote totals on Tuesday, or whether he really believes that Linda Cropp would be better than him.

Brown said yesterday, “It’s time to step back and move up somebody else. That’s what ego is all about, and that’s what caring for the city is all about.” So, um, Michael, why are you only stepping down four days before the election, instead of when it might’ve done some good months ago?

This post appeared in its original form at DC Metblogs

So there I was, walking bleary-eyed down L Street this morning, when I stopped to get some breakfast- a bagel and a Diet Mt. Dew. (Shut up, it’s what I drink instead of coffee.)

I got my bagel without a problem at the shop I frequent for this morning ritual, but when I reached for my liquid refreshment… Denied! Not a single Diet Mt. Dew in the case.

I paid for my bagel and headed for the CVS next door- they usually have what I need. But no love there, either. Crap. It is at this point that my uncaffeinated brain started plotting to explore every shop in a four block radius until I found the electric yellow-green crack I needed. But I was already running late for work, so I headed to the office instead.

Once I had finished my bagel, I felt fortified and resumed by search. Off to SoHo, my back-pocket option. Surely they would have what I craved. But no, thwarted again! The reptilian part of my brain started to panic at the prospect of a Diet Mt. Dew shortage in DC. What would I do?

As a last resort, I headed to the Au Bon Pain I pass every morning on my way to the office from the garage. I knew I’d overpay for my sweet elixir there, but it no longer mattered. And yes, they did have it.

But it was warm. Dammit.

As I trudged back to the office to put my hard-won soda in the freezer, I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the Chocolate Chocolate window. I had a realization.

Not only am I apparently a junkie, the reason I was jonesing so hard today for Diet Mountain Dew is that I stayed up late last night to play World of Warcraft.

Oh god, I have become a cliche.

This post appeared in its original form at DC Metblogs

See these two smiling hotties, the ones behind that stack of Krispe Kreme donuts? They got all kinds of loving from me this morning.

Hung-over and hungry, too late to even think about breakfast before heading to work, they brought sugary sweetness into my life like no other.

Sweetness that I shared with my officemates, to everyone’s sweet tooth delight.

Thank you Whitman Walker fundraisers, thank you from the sugar coma I now enjoy.

This post appeared in its original form at DC Metblogs

“This train is out of service,” says the Metro train operator to a chorus of groans, “please exit the train.”

On to the next train we cram a few minutes later, that train already full and now holding double the usual volume of fear.

Fear that this train too might experience door closing problems and another WMATA nightmare will ensue.

So far, fear unfounded.

This post appeared in its original form at DC Metblogs

Last time I wrote about coffee wars, it was Starbucks vs. Juan Valdez, an epic roaster showdown on Seventh Street.

Now it appears the field of battle will expand to the dreaded War on Two Fronts scenario. The Post is reporting that venerable New England chain Dunkin’ Donuts (recently acquired by DC’s own Carlyle Group) plans to launch its expansion in the Washington/Baltimore area, with a purported additional 325 stores by 2010. And of course, they’ve started off by opening a new store in Eastern Market across the street from a Starbucks, exactly Juan Valdez’s tactic in Penn Quarter.

Every morning before dropping me off at high school, my dad would stop at Dunkin’ Donuts – he for a steaming cup of joe, while I would devour a hefty doughnut (ah, the days when carbs were cool!). But ever since my move to the Almost South, I’ve become a Krispy Kreme convert (at least as far as doughnuts are concerned. I know a lot of people who still prefer the Dunk’s coffee to Starbucks or any other). So I’m interested to see if more Dunkin’ Donuts in DC will sway my loyalty back. Or if Firehook will remain my drugstore (ah, coffeeshop) of choice.

In any event, the most interesting thing to me is whether or not we’re reaching the point where the coffeeshop market is over-saturated, or whether the expansion of these other java players will continue unabated for the caffeinated good of all. So let the battle continue!

This post appeared in its original form at DC Metblogs

Being one who usually shies well away from politics, especially local politics, let me be the first MBDC writer to endorse a mayoral candidate. And let me have the best reason too.

I advocate voting for Adrian Fenty because of Fleet Feet in Adams Morgan.

Fleet Feet is the best shoe store I’ve found in Washington DC.

Moments after you walk in, even on a super busy Saturday morning in the spring, you are greeted and asked if you need any help. If you say no, you are left alone to browse or buy.

If yes, you are attended on then and there, or if crazy busy, politely asked to wait a second. Never do you get the surly big store sales person or the Foot Locker over sell. Fleet Feet also sells swim goggles, needed for my triathlons, and you can try test pairs on before you buy.

Why does Fleet Feet matter? After eight years of buy shoes from Fleet Feet, which just happens to be my neighbourhood shoes store too, I say whoever is affiliated with it knows how to treat customers, and voters, right.

And Fleet Feet is run by Adrian’s parents and Adrian worked there growing up. He knows people and he’s not afraid to get down at the sweaty, dusty end of them and find a good fit.

And in this age of TV politics, I don’t believe a word the candidates say pre-election. I look to their pre-politics roots to find out who they are. Fenty comes from a working family, and he’s not afraid to roll up his sleeves.

Add to that the poor choices we have. Cropp, a politician so long, you have to look at her record and ask: what was she doing in the Barry days? Johns, she’s a Verizon stooge, and I have no love for unresponsive monopolies.

The choice is clear: I say Adrian Fenty for Mayor.

This post appeared in its original form at DC Metblogs

A well-dressed man on his way down K Street answers his mobile.

“Hey ‘stick, what’s happening?”

“What the fuck? You know what’s happening. What the hell is this I hear about Atlanta trying to edge me out?”

“Oh yeah, that. Look, what can I say? Lun Lun must have gotten the same fertility doc your mom got.”

“That’s not the answer I’m looking for, Jerry. I’m Tai Shan, I’m the cute baby panda, and that AP reporter described HIM as ‘about the size of a stick of butter.'”

“Well, what ELSE is the size of a baby panda, ‘stick?”

“I don’t care. You’re my publicist, I pay you to think of those things. Now do your job and get the cameras back to the Panda Habitat in DC.”

“Look, Tai Shan, why don’t you come on down to the office this afternoon, and we’ll talk about a new direction for your career.”

“Why would I need a new direction? I’m Butterstick! Wonkette loves me. People line up out the doors to see me.”

“‘Stick, you’re not going to be young and cute forever. And this guy? He may be pink and hairless now, but he’s younger than you, and in a month or two, he’s going to be cuter than you.”

*click*

The man mutters to himself. “God, you can’t tell that guy anything.”

This post appeared in its original form at DC Metblogs

It’s a natural tendency to make the star of your photo the focal point. You aim your camera and think to yourself, “Wow, check that out.” But sometimes it pays to put your subject to the side or in the dark, and let your viewer soak in the total scene as claudiabeatriz does with this sunset photo of the monument. I could do without some of the trees, but overall this photo works for me due to the warm color, composition (rule of thirds), and because the Washington Monument is probably my favorite icon in our city.

This post appeared in its original form at DC Metblogs

So there I was, on my way to lunch along L Street yesterday, when I notice the police cars closing off the intersection and the cops motioning for people to stay on the sidewalk. Great. Motorcade. Looks like I’m stranded for a few minutes. And I’m hungry.

But then I marveled at the people- both in cars and pedestrians, who tried to sneak across the street. Like that Escalade was really going to evade the cop’s notice, dude. The trickle of impatient Washingtonians didn’t abate until the uniformed Secret Service officers on motorcycles showed up.

One of the officers pulled up next to the people on my corner and grinned. “Hope we’re not holding you up too much.” The response from one of my fellow pedestrians: “I’m just missing a meeting!”

I smiled. Is it really SO important that I get back to work five minutes faster? Leaving aside the question of whether it’s really so important that the Emir of Kuwait get to his speaking engagement at the Military Officers’ Association (that’s what the motorcade was for) for the moment… what I do isn’t brain surgery. No one is going to die if I spend a couple of extra minutes on the sidewalk. Sure, I’m hungry and that makes me cranky, but it’s not like I’m wasting away…

What I do get is a couple of minutes to be alone with my own, non-work thoughts. A mental coffeebreak, if you will. I’m one of the most irrationally impatient people I know, and it occurs to me that quietly seething every time a touron stands to the left on a Metro escalator or someone takes too long at the self-checkout at the grocery store is not the most healthy way to live.

I suspect that Downtown DC is full of people like me on a weekday afternoon. I invite you all to join me in trying to view motorcades and Metro delays as opportunities for mental rest, not personal affronts to your productivity. Perhaps we can collectively reduce this town’s blood pressure, no?

This post appeared in its original form at DC Metblogs

I just had two three comments show up in my email, they’re from “Carmelita Lopez” whose address goes back to an ESPN.com address (first WTF?), and they’re posting a YouTube video in the comments:

It’s a re-dub of a 30-second spot that Fenty put up on his site, and offers, an, um, different view of Adrian Fenty. What’s up with the re-dub? Well, they’re saying that because the original ad on the fenty webpage is titled Fenty420.swf he must clearly be a pothead and down with drugs instead of beating a path to all the neighbors doors.

So. Is this:

1) Linda Cropp’s Revenge?

2) The work of some clever blogger?

3) The work of some person who really needs help?

4) An entertaining way to pass the time?

I dunno, you tell me.

This post appeared in its original form at DC Metblogs

I’ve driven the beltway by the Mormon Temple countless times, always convinced it’s DC’s Disneyland, a shining castle overlooking the city. But, really, it’s a Mormon Temple, instead. Check out this beautiful High Dynamic Range shot from Bob Jagendorf on Flickr. HDR is an incredible way to shoot this town, giving a surreal cast to the image. Check out this HDR Tutorial if you’re interested in more HDR Photos.

This post appeared in its original form at DC Metblogs

Shortly after Mayor for Life Marion Shepilov Barry formally endorsed Adrian Fenty for Mayor, the Crackheads Union threw their support behind Adrian Fenty. Tyrone Biggums from the Crackheads Union Local 304 issued the following statement shortly thereafter: “If he’s good enough for my man Barry, he’s good enough for me. Damn, I want some crack!” Biggums then ran from the scene scratching at his neck at the invisible bugs beneath his skin shouting something about a 5 o’clock free crack giveway.

This post appeared in its original form at DC Metblogs

For years I’ve been hearing a familiar refrain from my supermodels:

There are not enough men in DC. Real Men. That’s why I lowered my standards and dated you.

For years I’ve also laughed off that comment because, well, its true and I’ll take a clock-stopping hot supermodel any way I can.

Still, I’ve always wondered if there was any rationale for that comment, or if it was just a stock whine women had, like remembering their names and such. Then I read today’s Male Bass Across Region Found to Be Bearing Eggs Washington Post article.

(Men, you might wanna hold your nuts while you read this next paragraph)

More than 80 percent of all the male smallmouth bass [federal and state researchers] found were growing eggs, including all of the fish caught at four of the seven survey sites [in Potomac tributaries]. The intersex condition doesn’t change the fish’s outward appearance but can be detected under a microscope.

At the site in Washington, seven of 13 male largemouth bass showed some kind of unusual feminine characteristic. Six of the seven fish tested positive for a protein used to produce eggs, and three of the seven contained eggs, Blazer said.

Yes, you read that right, the Potomac has a hermaphrodite bass problem. Over 50% of the male fish ain’t 100% man bass.

What does this mean for us humans, drinking and bathing in Potomac water every day? The officials say:

“I don’t know, and I don’t think anybody knows, the answer to that question right now: Is the effect in the fish transferable to humans?” said Thomas Jacobus, general manager of the Washington Aqueduct

Well I think we do know the answer to that question. I know, I know the answer. Before moving to DC, I was a Real Man – I worked construction, I drove a pick-up truck, I even knew NASCAR drivers, some personally.

Now, after eight years of endocrine disrupting Potomac woman-water, I know the difference between fuchsia and chartreuse, get mani-pedis bi-weekly, and once a month go on a Ben & Jerry’s New York Super Fudge Chunk binge.

We’ll not even start on my lisp or man-tits.

This post appeared in its original form at DC Metblogs

Like many cities, DC is home to a number of fictional characters. Hollywood, amongst other cabals of creative artists, is obsessed with Washington DC almost as much as it is obsessed with its own Los Angeles. DC is the backdrop for so many stories, so many amazing characters. Today, we begin to recount our own fictional characters, much as New York and Los Angeles have done. Enjoy our list, it will unfold through next Tuesday.

This post appeared in its original form at DC Metblogs