I’ve had my share of unpleasant club experiences, and even my share of unpleasant Limelight experiences, but I’ve never been trampled by a crowd of people trying to get to the dancefloor, as some 34 people were this past Sunday. I thought my black eye after the Ohgr show (at Limelight) was bad enough, but I think it beats getting caught in a stampede of Whitney Houston fans any day. [via Gawker]

I admit I’m perfectly happy with Celestial Seasonings most of the time, but for occasions when real tea is required (snowstorms are such occasions), there’s a good list of recommendations here. I would add Market Spice Original and Earl Grey teas, which have become two of my perennial favorites since, in his infinite wisdom, Tycho convinced me to bring some home from my trip to Seattle. If you don’t live in Seattle, you can order loose tea or bags from Blue Moon Tea. I’m also fond of Oregon Chai’s boxed concentrates - their Java Chai is an unholy blend of black tea and espresso that I’ve come to worship like the drinkable deity it is.

Now that we’ve got stampedes and tea out of the way, I’d like to take a moment to reassure the residents of New York in general and Brighton Beach in particular that water is wet (it is not lethal). In the wake of Monday’s snow and yesterday’s 40something temperatures, the sidewalks have become rather puddleful. This is vexing, because the sidewalks are at the moment only walkable in these little foot-wide shovel paths, and for some reason when people come to a puddle, they just stop walking. It’s not clear whether they think that the puddle will go away if sternly looked upon, or whether the people in question have never seen puddles before, or what exactly - but when one person stops in the middle of the little shovel path, everyone behind the person also stops walking, and I get irritated because it is (after all) just a god damned puddle. I usually end up clambering through the snow drifts and forsaking the shovel paths altogether, but really: it’s water. People of New York, when confronted with the disobediently existent puddle: step over or in it; if your feet become damp, you will live to tell the tale (I promise).