Musings of Osama Jr.

Don’t you simply hate it when you find yourself no longer in the mood for the Netflix movie you requested on the very day of its arrival?

Certain New York cab drivers seem to be under the impression that their backseat air conditioners are powerfully blowing jets of cool air when, in fact, they emit only the weakest lukewarm puffs. And they grow offended when you roll down the window!

There are those who (rightly, I suppose) deplore the treatment of women in certain Islamic nations, but it seems to me that the widespread and rather gleeful mockery of Paris Hilton is borne of much the same impulse—that is, to keep female sexuality in check, wherever its power is on display.

I found Ratatouille to be charming indeed! Not only that, but the film was quite original and not so very formulaic. It strikes me that the built-in audience for animated children’s pictures allowed Walt Disney/Pixar to take more risks than the other big studios did with their summer-blockbuster fare.

I agree that the heliport on West 30th Street is quite annoying for those of us making use of the riverside bike paths and such. A device that will make the problem disappear very quickly is the over-the-shoulder antiaircraft gun. Simply fire the missile and—after the initial blast—no more noise!

Poor little Abigail Breslin. She was so very cute in Little Miss Sunshine, and now she is stuck in that flop No Reservations, with Catherine Zeta-Jones and Aaron Eckhart. I suppose little Miss Breslin’s life as a journeywoman actress has begun.

Many New Yorkers love Daniel, where the waiters serve the tables in choreographed teams. While I certainly do enjoy Chef Boulud’s cooking, I must say I find the presentation more befitting a restaurant in a provincial town such as Las Vegas than one in the nation’s most sparkling jewel of urbanity.

I grew agitated indeed when I read that office space in mid-Manhattan is fetching $100 per square foot these days, all because of the inflated profits pulled in by do-nothing equity firms and hedge-firm swindlers, who are slyly edging working folks out of the heart of the city. Methinks there must be a way to quickly redistribute all that wealth to the people who must stare up at those gaudy towers day after day.

How is it possible that Geico keeps its premiums low when the company clearly spends billions on advertising? I do believe I smell not a lizard but a rat. Were McCain to have such publicity funds at his disposal, surely even he would remain a viable candidate!

How I hate all the scaffolding on the sidewalks when the day is sunny and bright! I feel as if I am walking through some tunneled city. But how I love it when the rain pours down and those planks help to keep my clothing and head dry. There is, perhaps, a lesson in that somewhere,

Allah be praised.

Musings of Osama Jr.