Society will eventually turn me into a psychotic killer.
Though, in the event that the District Attorney should ever question you about my mental state, I'd appreciate it greatly if you would keep that to yourself. If I ever DO go on trial for murder, I think that I should like to go free so I could kill again.
Because I hear that once you've tried killing, you really get a taste for it.
And speaking of taste, do parents teach their kids eating manners anymore? Little things like...
Anybody? Because it seems that everywhere I go, there's at least one person with positively appalling manners. I am getting really grossed out at having to listen to people smack away at their food while watching them chew with their mouths wide open, or having them spit food at me while they're talking...
Last week a work contact called me on the phone and I had to listen to her chomping away in my ear because she was too stupid to understand that it's RUDE to eat lunch while talking on the phone.
It made me want to kill her.
Then yesterday I went to a bagel shop that's not really a bagel shop because the gummy crap they serve tastes nothing like a real bagel (so few "bagels" outside of New York City actually do), and had to wait for my take-out order next to somebody who was totally incapable of chewing with their mouth closed.
He deserved to die quite badly.
And it's all because manners are getting to be a thing of the past. I guess people don't know any better, and probably wouldn't care if they did. Rude eaters should warn you of their bad behavior before inviting you to lunch... or, at the very least, ask permission first. I'm all for permission-based behavior...
I don't want to become a killer... honestly I don't. But can I really be blamed if society makes me a murdering psycho? Then it wouldn't be my fault, right... you'd forgive me?
Wanna do lunch sometime?
Last night while I was waiting for a surprisingly tame episode of Veronica Mars, I saw a new commercial for a product called Herpecin. In case you hadn't guessed, Herpecin is used for treating any herpes infections that happen to find their way onto your face. And, while I appreciate that when you get oral herpes there is a product to take care of it...
Dude! Seriously. Who in the heck wants to walk into the drugstore and ask the sales clerk: "Where can I find the Herpecin?"
Worst. Product. Name. Ever.
But it did get me thinking about what would happen if this trend escalates...
Unfortunately, as wonderful as modern medicine is... THERE IS STILL NO CURE FOR DUMBASS!!
Some stupid f#@%er is suing Apple Computer because listening to an iPod at full volume can cause hearing loss.
WELL NO SHIT YOU MORON!
Here's another newsflash for you... CUTTING YOURSELF WITH A KNIFE CAN CAUSE BLOOD LOSS!!
Who are these ignorant douchebags that are incapable of comprehending the obvious? The iPod NEEDS to have high volumes because NOT ALL MUSIC IS RECORDED AT THE SAME LEVEL! Some music is recorded softer than others. Many audiobooks certainly are. Some of the podcasts I've listened to are barely audible, even at full volume. On top of all that, some people are hard of hearing and need higher volume levels in order to hear anything in the first place. It's up to the individual to determine what volume level is appropriate for them and, if they are too f#@%ing stupid to figure it out, then they shouldn't be allowed to buy an iPod in the first place.
Seriously. This has got to stop.
Whenever a lawyer files such a stupid lawsuit, they should be immediately shot and then lit on fire. Or maybe bludgeoned with metal pipe and forced to choke on their own vomit. Or something involving a hack-saw and flesh-eating parasites. I dunno. All I do know is that this shit HAS GOT TO STOP!
What really chaps my ass is that these greedy turds are filing the lawsuit under the pretense of public safety, but the truth is that they WANT TO GET PAID. LAWYERS WANT MONEY!! Never mind that people have been using headphones for decades, all of a sudden everybody is too stupid and irresponsible to know that loud music can damage your hearing. WTF?!?
At some point people have to be responsible for their own stupidity rather than forcing everybody else to do it for them. That USED to be the American Way. But NOW the American Way is to sue everybody you can. Is this really what everybody wants for this country? Nobody wins but the blood-sucking bastard lawyers.
Anyway, one last thing... do you like potato chips? If you do, you'll want to read the rest of today's extended entry. If you don't like potato chips, then FOR HEAVEN'S SAKE DON'T CLICK ON THE LINK BELOW!!→ Click here to continue reading this entry...
The fact that I am vegetarian is a source of curiosity for many people. I suppose this is mostly because I am not a "militant" vegetarian who is hell-bent on making everybody else a vegetarian too. It's a choice I made for myself, and I don't force my dietary habits on other people. Since many vegetarians do feel the need to preach their views, this makes me a bit of an anomaly.
I first flirted with vegetarianism 20 years ago as a New Year's resolution in 1986. I only really liked hamburgers, bacon and pepperoni growing up anyway, and so it seemed like an easy step to take. Unfortunately, the local burger joints kept tempting me back to the life of a carnivore, and I never made it more than three months at a time. Come Thanksgiving, I had given up completely, because I wanted a slice of dead turkey pretty bad.
Fast-forward a year-and-a-half. I was dating a girl who was a vegetarian. She was very vocal about animal rights, and made compelling arguments against eating animals. After a couple weeks of pestering, I finally kicked the meat habit on Earth Day, March 1988, because my girlfriend promised to make it worth my while. And while she lived up to her promise, we only lasted another couple weeks before breaking up.
But the diet has stuck ever since.
Part of it is for health reasons, but mostly it's because I can't make the leap from this...
And I have to wonder how many other people would continue to eat meat if they had to slaughter it themselves. It's easy to become detached from where meat really comes from when it comes so nicely packaged at the supermarket. I also wonder if people would be willing to pay the price to eat meat if the US government were to stop subsidizing the industry. Without billions in taxpayer dollars, a hamburger would cost around $14.00... would people be willing to pay it when suddenly a veggie burger was so cheap by comparison?
Anyway, vegetarianism fits neatly into my Buddhist way of thinking, so I am quite happy to stay the course. And while I am (unfortunately) still eating unfertilized eggs, milk, cheese, and other dairy, I can safely say that I won't be eating meat ever again. I seem to be much healthier because of it, and am happy to contribute to a diet that's not destroying the planet.
So while I don't begrudge people who choose to eat dead animals, eating less meat or becoming a vegetarian is easier than ever. Why not give meat-free options a chance next time you're at the grocery store or eating at a restaurant... you might be surprised.
On the other hand... boy do I miss pepperoni pizza.
But today everything went terribly wrong.
And I should have known that it would because I was given an Omen of Doom on my way to the bank.
As I reached the intersection, I suddenly noticed that there was nobody around. No traffic. No people. No sound. No anything. It was highly unusual. Naturally, I assumed that The Rapture had just occurred, and I had been Left Behind. Just for fun, I yelled "OH LORD, WHY HAVE YOU FORSAKEN ME?!?"
Only to realize that there was a woman standing right behind me.
I am now officially one of those crazy people who wanders the streets talking to themselves about the world ending.
I suppose it was only a matter of time...
Anyway, I get to the bank's ATM only to find out that my card doesn't work. Turns out that the credit card company accidentally released all their card numbers AGAIN, and so it had to be replaced "for security reasons". Dumbasses.
But it's when I finally get to the mini-mart that the real tragedy occurs...
THEY ARE NO LONGER CARRYING MY BELOVED COKE WITH LIME!!!
Once again I find myself screaming "OH LORD, WHY HAVE YOU FORSAKEN ME?!?"
And so now I am left wondering if the Coke-heads have discontinued it or what. I suppose now it's only a matter of time before I become a rent boy, walking the street with the promise of sexual favors in exchange for feeding my Coke habit...
Coke bastards! The item replacing Coke with Lime is called "Vault" and it appears to be a rediculous hybrid of soda and energy drink. That's some stupid shit right there... if I want a frickin' energy drink, I'll buy a Red Bull.
In protest, I decided to skip on Coke products and buy a Dr. Pepper instead.
Except now that I've opened the bottle, I realize that it's not REAL Dr. Pepper... it's Dr. Pepper with Vanilla and Cherry flavorings. YARGH! I HATE CHERRY FLAVORING!!
I'm having a very bad day.
As I mentioned a while back, I'm going through kind of a Kool-Aid renaissance.
Lately I've been getting much bolder in my Kool-Aid choices, and have started to stray away from the classics (Grape, Orange, Lime, Tropical Punch) in order to try some of the freakier flavors they've got going on. First there were the "Kool-Aid Twists" which are blended flavors ("Swirlin' Strawberry Starfruit", for example). Then I experimented with "Kool-Aid Ice Cool" which adds a bit of tingle to the taste ("Arctic Green Apple" anyone?). And now I'm moving on to the "Kool-Aid Aguas Frescas" which are favorite flavors from Latin America...
Last night was time for "Pineapple" which tastes about as unlike pineapple juice as you can get. I didn't care for it at all.
Until I added vodka to it.
Suddenly the pineapple-ish stuff became an exotic nectar of the gods. Which begs the question... is there any juice (or juice-like substance) that vodka doesn't taste good in? I like it in grape juice, orange juice, cranberry juice, pineapple juice, and any kind of fruit punch. I haven't tried it in apple juice yet, but something tells me that it will be equally tasty.
Much like a fresh episode of Project Catwalk with the delicious Elizabeth Hurley...
And speaking of alcohol, I need a new drink. I'm getting bored with the same old cocktails every time.
Here's the kind of stuff I like:
Maybe I should create my own alcoholic beverage. I could call it the "Bad Monkey"...
Too bad my lunch hour is almost up, because I would totally try drinking that.
When you live in a small town, your options for eating out are limited. We have a fine dining restaurant, a family restaurant, a pizzeria, a burger drive-through, and something like 37 Mexican restaurants (give or take). Unless you want to eat Mexican for a month, you only really have a week's worth of variety (and even that's pushing it, because they all feature mostly hamburgers on the menu).
And if you're vegetarian like me, only about 3% of what they serve is edible to you.
Last year a new restaurant opened up selling "Authentic Pulled Pork BBQ" which has since turned out to be a fairly popular place to eat. If you like shredded dead pig and loads of barbecue sauce on a bun, it's the restaurant for you.
I affectionately refer to it as the "Little Shop of Horrors". Mostly because of me doing the vegetarian thing, but the fact that they blast country music at full volume and have redneck decor everywhere is the real kicker...
And yet this is probably what everybody from outside of the US thinks that all restaurants here are like (at least the ones that aren't McDonalds or Kentucky Fried Chicken). They could be right. I'm pretty sure that this is what the cafeteria at The White House looks like now.
But they make a decent potato salad and have good cornbread (with honey butter!), so I drop by every once in a while when I can't think of anything better to eat for lunch.
I just ignore the stench of roasting animal carcasses and try not to think of what goes on in that kitchen...
Or what they have to do to get their "pulled pork"...
Which ends up looking like something that dropped out of a diarrhetic yak's ass...
Bleh. It's Rush Limbaugh on a bun! Bon appetite.
Last night while tearing through some work I had to finish, I was watching my bitchin' DVD set for Justice Leage: Season One, which rocks SO hard. Honestly, I am more excited about watching a new episode of Justice League than I am about seeing the new X-Men film. The lame-ass "movie X-Men" fight stupid boring crap instead of the bad-ass enemies they get in the comic books, so who cares?
But the Justice League cartoons are just as exciting as the comics, if not more so. It's a comic book lover's dream come true...
And speaking of super-heroes, I was my own super-hero this morning when I totally made Kitty Spangles my bitch on my very first game of double-deck Klondike...
Kitty Spangles Solitaire was recently upgraded to 2.0, and now includes some other versions of the game (like Freecell, Spider, and Yukon). Even better, it's free to registered owners which was pretty swell.
And speaking of swell, I finally managed to watch the season finale of Project Catwalk. The best part of the show was when the final three contestants were told that their mentor "Ben" would be paying a visit to their home, but when they opened the door, it was actually a SURPRISE GUEST... Elizabeth Hurley had dropped by...
I would have shat myself right then and there, but the finalists somehow managed to hold it (somewhat) together...
Liz was brutally hot, as always. Even if she did go a little bit crazy in the end there...
Sigh. And so ends my weekly Elizabeth Hurley fix. It sure would be sweet if they bring her back for another season...
And speaking of sweet, has anybody tried "Golden Oreos Originals"??
They kick all kinds of ass, and I am on my way towards devouring my third bag in two weeks. That cannot be good for me, but I am going through a kind of "cookie renaissance" just now and can't help myself. Somebody needs to suggest another awesome cookie so I can use it to break my 3-bag Golden Oreo habit.
I have wonderful, amazing news.
Incredible, spectacular, miraculous news.
As I was heading home yesterday, I stopped at the mini-mart and found out that my beloved Coke with Lime is back! Sometimes begging and pleading actually works. What I am not sure of is if this is old stock that the Coke Man is trying to get rid of... or if it really hasn't been discontinued, and they were just going to stop selling it at that one store until I complained.
Oh well, I'll cross that bridge when I get to it. For now, I'm just happy I can still buy it...
Coke with Lime kicks ass.
In other news: Ha ha. HAH HA HA HAAAHHH! BWAAAAAHH HAAAHH HA HAAAAAAHHH!
Maybe they should call it "Windows VAPOR"?
For crying out loud... just buy a Mac and be done with it.
As for me? I'm going to Daveland...
It's the place to sing a happy song.
Grab your wallet and come along!
It's the place to have a great day.
Bring your money to pay pay pay!
It's the place where fun times begin.
Give us cash or you ain't gettin' in.
Dave how we love you!
No. I am not kidding.
I totally love Coke with Lime. Except for an occasional Jones Blue Bubble Gum soda here and there, I had all but given up soda pop for four years. But then I was walking in the grocery store one day and was intrigued by these bright lime-green caps calling out to me from the soda aisle. Intrigued, I decided to give it a try because I like lime.
I now drink a minimum of two servings each day. Yesterday I had four.
Seriously. If you haven't experienced Coke with Lime, you haven't experienced life!
And to all those kind souls who have suggested adding lime juice to Coke to get the same effect... I've tried it. For some reason, it's just not the same. I've tried bottled lime juice. I've tried squeezing fresh lime. I've tried lime slices. I don't know what those Coke bastards do in order to make Coke with Lime so tasty, but I'm sure it probably involves some sort of crystal meth type substance.
That would certainly explain a lot.
Ever since I read that Hello Kitty Pop-Tarts are being released over at Timothy's blog, I've wanted them. Days of searching at local grocery stores turned up nothing, and so I started telling everybody I know to help me look. My Hello-Kitty Pop-Tart search eventually involved a dozen people in four states. Finally, after I had reached suicidal-levels of despair that I would never find Hello Kitty Pop-Tarts, my mom found them at the local Fred Meyer (hey, you really do "find it at Freddies!").
Behold the grandeur that is Hello Kitty Pop-Tarts...
BACKGROUND: I've long held a fascination with Hello Kitty, but not in the way you are probably thinking (i.e., I don't have my bedroom decorated in Hello Kitty merchandise, nor do I wear Hello Kitty clothing). Nope, my obsession stems from two things: 1) My love of Japan from my travels there, and 2) The elegant simplicity that defines the "Hello Kitty Look". As you might guess, Hello Kitty was a big influence when creating my cartoon persona...
HISTORY: Hello Kitty was created in 1974 by Sanrio graphic designer Ikuko Shimizu as one in a line of several "characters" for the company. Her popularity eventually escalated her to near cult status, and she is easily one of the most well-known Japanese exports of the last couple of decades. Remaining popular both in Japan and abroad, Hello Kitty can be found on everything from toys and stationery to toilet paper and vibrators. There is some question as to whether Hello Kitty was inspired by Dutch cartoon icon "Miffy" (created 1955 by Dick Bruna), but most people have written this off as a coincidence.
ASSOCIATES: Hello Kitty is often found in the company of her many friends, including Cathy the bunny, Tim & Tammy the monkeys, Tippy the bear, and (ironically) her pet cat Charmmy Kitty. Hello Kitty's full name is "Kitty White", and she has a twin sister name "Mimmy".
PACKAGING: Hello Kitty "Meow-Berry" Pop-Tarts are made by Kelloggs, and is just one out of dozens of Pop-Tart flavors. They are sold in boxes of twelve and are conveniently foil-wrapped in six two-packs. They weigh-in at 22 ounces and you can buy a box for under $3.00. In addition to the front panel (shown above), there is also a game on the back...
Colorful, and well-rendered in Hello Kitty Style, it's a search puzzle to locate as many bows as you can find. The answer is printed inside the carton, and I ended up missing two because they were so small or obscured as to be unrecognizable. Faithful to the Hello Kitty brand, and an eye-catcher on store shelves, I give the packaging an A-.
APPEARANCE: From the box, it appears that Hello Kitty Pop-Tarts are decorated in her signature pink color and sprinkled with miniature candies in the shape of Hello Kitty, bows, and flowers. The reality is a bit disappointing...
Instead of a festive pink frosting, it's kind of a purple-ish pink that's not very appetizing. Instead of the icing being neatly centered on the pastry, it was smeared off to one side. The generous assortment of candy sprinkles shown on the box were nothing more than a few scattered bits. In short, the product looked nothing like what I was expecting. If it had even remotely resembled what was on the box, I would have been much happier. But, alas, I give the actual product a D- for looks.
TASTE: Pop-Tarts are an acquired taste that not everybody enjoys. I happen to love them. My only criticism is that the pastry dough is dense and gummy when chewed... forming a kind of nasty paste. You have to be careful that you always have plenty of filling with each bite so that the crap pastry doesn't ruin your dining experience. The flavor advertised is "Meow-Berry" which is explained to be a "wild berry filling". Tasting it, I get a good sense of berry flavor, though trying to figure out which berries are in the mix is fairly difficult. I definitely taste strawberry... and probably some kind of raspberry or blackberry... perhaps a hint of blueberry... but nothing definite can be discerned. Overall I give the product a B for taste, considering we're talking about Pop-Tarts here.
OVERALL RATING: This product had such high potential, but really fell short in the appearance department. This is really bad news for a food item, and cuts the final score down to a C+. If Kelloggs could find a way to improve the look of Hello Kitty Pop-Tarts, they'd jump to a B+ or A- easy. Overall, I am giving them a cautious recommendation. If you like Pop-Tarts, these are worth a try. If you don't like Pop-Tarts, the Hello Kitty Meow-Berry variety will not change your mind.
First of all... praise be to The Force.
I'm the type of person who becomes easily addicted to foods. Last week I was addicted to fried egg sandwiches. I had one every single day for dinner until I ran out of eggs on day 6. Right now I'm going through a kind of Pop-Tart renaissance, whereas I am consuming them for breakfast and lunch each day.
Several weeks ago, my food addiction of choice was cheese and potato pierogies. It was so bad that I was going through a box of Mrs. T's Pierogies every single day, which got kind of expensive. So when the Schwan's Man dropped by and offered up a huge bag of pierogies for a bargain price, I went ahead and took him up on the deal.
Unfortunately, they sucked ass. Schwan's Pierogies were nothing like Mrs. T's Pierogies... even though they look the exact same. Heartbroken, I shoved the bad bag to the back of the freezer and forgot about them.
Until last night when I was having trouble finding something to eat. In digging through the freezer, I ran across that bag of pierogies and decided "what the heck, it's all I got". But then as I was tossing them on a cookie sheet for baking (which is how I usually cook them), I accidentally read the recommended cooking instructions. Turns out you are supposed to boil them, then saute them in butter. So I did.
Freakin' amazing. Is there ANYTHING that doesn't taste better with a stick of butter on top??
So now I'm addicted to Schwan's Pierogies, and am terrified that I'm going to run out before the Schwan's Man drops by again. I sure hope it's soon, because I'm also out of banana popsicles...
Nothing like a banana-pop to make your day a little better.
Last night I took my mother and grandmother out for an early Mother's Day dinner. This neatly avoids having to battle the Sunday dining crowds, and didn't require me to make reservations months in advance.
Of course, the term "fancy restaurant" is a relative term. If you live in New York, Chicago, L.A., or any other large city, you would undoubtedly laugh your ass off over what qualifies as "fancy" here in Wenatchee, Washington. As if to prove my point, arguably the best restaurant in town is a burgers and pizza pub called "McGlinn's Public House" (I'd provide a link to their site, but it's a shitty Flash monstrosity that sums up just about everything I HATE in a web site). Out of all the places to eat in the valley, this is the only one I really like.
Not wanting to take my grandmother to a pub... even a really nice one like McGlinn's... we instead went to "The Cottage Inn" which is kind of like a boring version of Applebees. The food is pretty good for Wenatchee (mostly steaks and stuff). Most important, however, is that the atmosphere is very non-threatening and grandma-approved. This type of setting makes The Cottage Inn a favorite haunt for the elderly, and it seems like there is never anybody under 60 eating there.
This presents a problem.
Since most everybody is old, dinner conversation usually revolves around health problems.
Scary health problems.
I remember one time where the table next to mine had four old ladies actively discussing their bowel and bladder issues while they were eating. Once they got to the point where they were having to wear diapers on road trips, I was ready to kill myself. Last night was no different. The booth directly behind me was talking about all kinds of balls-nasty crap. As I was trying to enjoy my baked potato and salad dinner, I kept hearing words like "bile" and "mucous" and "spleen".
WTF? Why would anybody want to talk about this crap while eating?
It was so bad that I didn't even want to order dessert. And I ALWAYS order dessert. Things like this have me hoping I die before I get to the point where I feel the need to discuss my bowels and spleen in public.
I started the day with the worst breakfast in the worst restaurant with the worst service ever. I think there was something wrong with my eggs too, because I eventually got very very sick. It felt like my intestines were going to burst out of my torso, and the pain was kind of harsh. I had no idea what was going on down there, so I took a Pepto Bismol, an Immodium, a Gas-X, a Pepcid AC, and a couple of TUMS. None of that made me feel much better, but at least I didn't explode or anything.
Maybe it's salmonella poisoning.
Tomorrow I'm going to eat breakfast at McDonalds where I know it's safe.
"Safe" being a relative term, of course. But I can't risk getting sick again when I've got two more days of work ahead of me.
So what's on TV?
The last time I watched Lost, Locke and Jack were fighting over whether or not to push a button. I wrote about the sheer idiocy of it all here.
Wanting to know if anything had changed on that stupid, stupid show... I decided to buzz by tonight's season finale for a minute and see what's happening. And what did I find?
Locke and some other guy are fighting over whether or not to push a button.
Somebody please explain how a show that never changes and keeps recycling the same shit over and over and over again with NO resolution and NO answers can be so popular? Who actually gives a crap anymore? Not me. I gave up months ago, and am now thrilled that I didn't waste my time watching it with the expectation that things would change.
Hmmm... I hope the hotel doesn't fine me for borrowing a towel for Towel Day 2006 tomorrow!
I just got back from dinner at Fogo de Chão.
For anybody who has never eaten there, it's kind of a vegetarian's nightmare where fanciful chefs in goucho pants wander around the restaurant with butcher knives and skewers of meat... continuously feeding you a variety of dead animals until you explode. Ordinarily I would have skipped an invitation to such a place, but they have a very good salad bar and so I was happy to go. I admit that the never-ending parade of meat to the table is a bit distracting, but eventually I am able to just ignore it...
Well, they don't really go wandering around with a pig's head... but you get the idea.
It was an interesting end to an otherwise sucky day. Lets go back in time eight hours...
Today should have been fairly uneventful because I spent most of it in my hotel room working. But the weather outside was so beautiful that I couldn't resist rewarding myself with a walk up to Johnny Rockets for lunch.
That was a mistake.
After I had eaten, I spotted a guy giving out free Ben & Jerry's ice cream. I snagged a delicious Chocolate-Chip Cookie Dough cone and happily started walking back to my hotel. I was half-way home when a car coming from the opposite direction turned in front of me as I was making my way through the crosswalk. Apparently they ended up turning wider than they intended, because they nearly ran me down in the street... I actually had to jump out of the way to avoid getting creamed. I never saw a turn signal, and they turned so late that there was really no way for me to anticipate what was going to happen (never mind the fact that I had a "walk" signal).
And while I did avoid death or serious injury... I made a terrible landing. Probably because I was trying not to drop my ice cream. Much to my horror, I twisted my leg and came crashing down on the pavement.
I was too shocked to be angry, but the woman crossing behind me was furious. "DID YOU GET THE LICENSE OF THAT BITCH?!?" she screamed as she leaned over me. "Uh, no... the car was going too fast" I replied, and then stupidly added "it was a silver car".
As I was getting up with my ice cream cone (miraculously spared), a small crowd wandered up as the woman had to tell everybody what had happened... "A BITCH IN A SILVER CAR JUST RAN HIM DOWN!! JUST RAN HIM DOWN IN THE STREET!!" she announced (as if it would have been less tragic had it taken place in a parking lot?).
So now my leg and back are all jacked-up. Fortunately, I have my meds with me.
And just when I think things can't get any worse, I arrive back at my hotel just in time to learn our beloved president is announcing his support for a constitutional amendment banning same-sex marriage.
It's so nice that the office of the president is continuing to represent ALL the people of this country*.
*Assuming that you are a healthy, white, wealthy, Christian, heterosexual from Texas.
I've already said my peace on the subject, but continue to be amazed at how many people have to suffer in the name of a political agenda. There's no way such an amendment could ever pass, so why sully the office of the president with a statement of such horrific bigotry? Why stir up even more hatred in a country so divided? Why be so intentionally hurtful to his fellow American citizens? Why do this when it's so mind-bogglingly un-presidential? Why?
Probably because his popularity is at an all-time low and he needs to rally support from his conservative fan base for the upcoming mid-term elections.
Which is a pretty crappy thing to do, and begs the question...
When President Bush took his oath of office to preserve, protect, and defend the Constitution of the United States of America... did he ever bother to f#@%ing read it? I've never cared for Bush, but was always respectful of his office. Now I've been worn down to the point where I just have no respect left to give. It's very sad.
So now I am hurting both in body and in spirit. I just want to take a few more pills, go to sleep, and make the world go away. Maybe everything will be better when I wake up in the morning.
I can dream, can't I?
I feel so violated! I just rode twenty-seven floors with a couple who were going at it in the elevator. Without sounding like a total prude... ew! Surely they realize that nobody wants to see that? I mean, if I were trapped in the elevator with two lesbian porn stars, maybe... but this dopey guy and his skank-ho girlfriend? No thanks. Some people should be banned from displays of public affection (and, unless you actually ARE a lesbian porn star, this means you).
Tonight's dinner was at one of the best Thai restaurants outside of Thailand... Vong's Thai Kitchen. They have a "Yellow Vegetable Pad Thai" to die for. Succulent, flaky noodles that aren't the least bit gummy! Here is what I got out of my Thai fortune cookie at the end...
If you cannot read my drunken photo, it says: "Everyone agrees you are the best". I never really doubted this, but it's nice to have proof in writing.
I woke up with mild pain in my back and only a little tenderness in my leg... so apparently I am going to survive getting run down in the street yesterday. This is a good thing, because it means I don't have to take pills (which I hate, because it makes me sleepy all day). It also meant that I got to bum around the candy expo here in Chicago. It's always a cool event, mainly because I love me the free samples of sugary treats! There were many wonders to behold, but two things stood out for me...
The first is CHOCOLATE PEEPS!! Yes, Peeps are now available cocoa flavored! I like Peeps, even though I can't eat them (marshmallow has gelatin, which is made from gross animal parts I refuse to stick in my mouth)...
Maybe it's just that I like saying "Peeps" a lot?
Next up was the PEZ booth. PEZ is a candy I love and actually DO eat. The big surprise was that they had the American Chopper guys from Orange County Choppers make them a cool bike...
And that's all she wrote. It has been a very long day.
BUT BEFORE I GO... in deference to Mistress Eve on this most auspicious date of 06-06-06, I am hereby recognizing "Day of Slayer" by rocking out to the ever-excellent death-metal classic album South of Heaven on my iPod (yes, I know you are supposed to blast without headphones, but they would most certainly kick me out of the hotel for that!). Slay on my Mistress of Metal!
♫ The root of all evil is the heart of a black soul... a force that has lived all eternity! ♫ A never ending search for a truth never told... the loss of all hope and your dignity! ♫
When my next blogiversary rolls around and I decide to print new T-shirt to celebrate the occasion, somebody slap me. For the first two years, I never had to send out more than fifty shirts. This year there are HUNDREDS to ship, and it's a lot of work (as in an unbelievably huge amount of work).
I spent a big chunk of my weekend folding, bagging, boxing, and processing... yet only managed to get through 94 of the 311 orders I received. Tonight I barely got through another 40. At this rate, it will take me the rest of the week to ship all the shirts out, which makes me feel bad for everybody who's been waiting so long.
Ooh! As I'm typing this just now, thunder ripped through the heavens, lightning started crashing, and a deluge of water started dumping out of the sky.
Almost makes me glad that I didn't pull my motorcycle out of storage yet.
Anyway... I've had a few people ask before, and James just asked again, so I present a recipe for y'all:
Dave's Perfect Fried Egg Sandwich!
And if you're looking for something to watch while eating your sandwich, here's some spiffy-keen new Mac ads...
Look! It's a Mac-In-The-Box!!
I was all excited about Betty White being on Gameshow Maraton tonight, but it was for naught. Sure she was there and was totally cool and everything... but too much time was spent on all the other lame celebrities. This was not a good thing, because D-list "star contestants" Lance Bass and Kathy Najimy were positively stupid in their answers. And Ricki Lake was no Gene Rayburn, that's for sure.
Such a pity, as I was so looking forward to the show after yet another grueling day of work.
Fortunately, good TV news was to be found: Comedy Central has ordered THIRTEEN NEW EPISODES OF FUTURAMA!!
Easily my favorite animated series of all time, Futurama is far more clever and brilliant than we deserve (which is probably why it was cancelled). About the only cartoon character I love more than Bender would be Curious George, so you know this is a seriously big deal for me.
In other news, I have a new best friend...
These little crackers are called "Crunch Master". At first I was dubious because I found it seriously hard to believe that any chip could possibly out-crunch a Doritos corn chip. Crunch MASTER? Bitch, please. But I do love me the rice cracker, so I decided to give them a try.
These people do not lie! They are indeed the Crunch F#@%ing Master!!
In fact, the only way these crackers could be any MORE crunchy would be if they were made out of GLASS. Yes, I kid you not, they are indeed that crunchy! They are so crunchy that if you listen really closely, you can probably hear me crunching on them... even if you are in a different time zone. They are so crispy that I dare say you could use shards of Crunch Master crackers to cut through steel. It would not surprise me to find out that Crunch Master crackers are prohibited on airplanes by Homeland Security for fear somebody could break one in half and take over the plane.
Crunch Master crackers kick serious ass.
I am hopelessly addicted to them now (especially the cheese variety). I eat them constantly. In fact, when I am not eating Crunch Master crackers, I am sad. I need to devise some kind of automated feeding mechanism so that I can be force-fed a constant supply to my mouth and be happy all the time. But there would have to be a "pause button" so that I could temporarily suspend feeding while talking on the phone. Because talking with your mouth full of crunchy crackers would just be rude.
The good news is that they are practically calorie-free. That's because there's nothing in them. There's so much crunch that there's not room for anything else.
I have to stop blogging now so I can eat another bag of Crunch Master BEFORE bedtime. I don't dare eat these crackers IN bed, because the crumbs would probably cut me up and cause me to bleed to death in the middle of the night. Hey, there's a cool new advertising slogan! Crunch Master: so crunchy they could kill you to death!
Now that's a totally bad-ass cracker.
I was sent an interesting "Thierry Ardisson Interview" meme to think about. Since it's in French, it's taking a while to decipher because my French language skills are quite poor (and long-forgotten). But one thing is immediately apparent... most all of the questions are introspective. They force you to take a real look at yourself as opposed to asking how others look at you (or asking how you look at something else). The second question is this: "Quand vous vous regardez dans la glace le matin, vous vous dites quoi?" - which translates into "When you look at yourself in the mirror in the morning, what do you say to yourself?"
My answer would have to be "I don't say anything," because I never really look at myself in the mirror. I put my contact lenses in by feel, and brush my teeth while doing other things. I never care how my hair looks, and so it never occurs to me to look. So this morning I decided to give it a try...
And all I could think to say to myself is "you look like shit, buddy!"
Having not slept in a month has really taken its toll. I have bags under the bags under my eyes. I am also in bad need of a haircut. I should cancel my upcoming travel plans and check myself into a spa or something. Or perhaps start shooting heroin, so at least then there would be an excuse for looking like a heroin addict.
And speaking of questions... my best friend Karl has answered my five "Barbara Walters interview questions" over at Secondhand Tryptophan. I must say, asking for questions to fill up blog entries is a pretty sweet idea. I would steal it and have people ask me five questions... but, considering some of the emails and comments I get, that is a very scary prospect. Perhaps it would be better to ask "If you were to GET to ask me five, questions, what five questions WOULD you ask?" That way when somebody asks me something particularly frightening, I can just laugh and say "wow, that WOULD be a good question!"
I am such a weenie.
But since I won't talk about my friends, family, or work... I'm guessing those are the questions most people would ask, and so I really can't go there. I did get a question in my email yesterday that I WILL answer, however...
"Hey did you make any money from that Google ad you put in your RENT entry?"
Wow, that's a good question! I never bothered to look! Let's see shall we? ... ... ... HOLY CRAP! I made $9.54!! That's pretty good isn't it? This is 1/10 the current cost of keeping Blogography running each month on 1/30 the entries I write in a month, so it looks like the site could support itself if it had to. Kind of nice to know that I have options if I should need to use them. Still, I would much rather remain ad-free for as long as possible. Media Temple has mentioned that they will be increasing their bandwidth allowance, so maybe that will take care of my current troubles?
Costco is selling Crunch Master 6-Packs! That's enough to last me almost an entire week! Now all I need is Coke with Lime in 60-Packs, and I'm good to go!
Well this day sucks ass.
It started out well enough... I'm on my way to New York City, baby!
But then my flight out of Seattle was delayed two hours and it was all downhill from there. I thought that the hour wait to get my luggage would be the end of it. Until I got to the hotel... WHERE THE FREAKIN' INTERNET DOESN'T WORK!! You'd think I was staying at the Motel 6 or something... but this is a freakin' FOUR-STAR HOTEL IN MID-TOWN MANHATTAN!! Apparently $340 a night doesn't assure you of internet. WTF?!?
After three trips to the front desk to get busted internet routers, I gave up. I suppose I'll just have to figure it all out tomorrow. Oh well. Life may suck, but I AM in New York!
Time for a McVeggie Deluxe in Times Square!
Wisconsin, for lack of a better word, is delicious.
Every time I come here, I always end up eating way too much. Unfortunately, what I eat are foods that are very, very bad for you. Things like a caramel-cashew frozen custard sundae from Culvers (which isn't bad until I tell you that I eat two of these EVERY DAY). Or cheese. Lots and lots of cheese. My latest addiction is fried cheese, which is taking something horribly delicious, doing bad things to it, and then ending up with something atrociously horribly delicious. I just can't help myself... fried fatty foods are my kryptonite.
Another problem here is that they love butter almost as much as I do.
Last night I was at the grocery store looking for snack foods to eat while I was working. I eventually ended up in the chip aisle, and picked up a bag of something called "O-Ke-Doke" because it had cool aliens on it...
It looked kind of like imitation Pirate Booty, so I was going to put it back until I heard a voice behind me...
NICE LADY: That had better not be the last bag, I was going to get some of that myself!
DAVE: Uhhh... no, there's plenty. I was just looking at it anyway.
NICE LADY: What? How can you not buy it? That stuff is addictive! Haven't you ever had it before?
DAVE: No. They don't have "O-Ke-Doke" in Washington State where I'm from.
NICE LADY: Oh you have GOT to try it then! It tastes like butter, and my kids just love it!
DAVE: Butter you say?!?
So I bought a bag along with all kinds of other snacky crap. All the way back to the hotel, I was getting more and more excited about the prospect of eating crunchy fried butter. What a brilliant idea! So I get back to my room, pull out my laptop, and rip open a bag... only to find out that it's not that great. Sure it tastes like butter (and that's a good thing)... but it's way too salty.
Except I cannot stop eating the stuff.
I ate half the bag last night for dinner, and polished off the remainder this morning for breakfast. It's like butter cocaine or something...
Damn those dirty space-alien-fried-butter-cocaine-snack-pushers!!
Who needs spaceships and lasers to take over the earth? They've got O-Ke-Doke! And with 1190 calories, 1470 milligrams of sodium, and 77 fat grams per bag, humanity's destruction is assured.
And now I have to go to the store so I can buy another bag for lunch.
Addiction sucks ass.
"I'll kill you! KILL YOU DEAD!" he screams, his eyes filled with rage...
It all started innocently enough when Bob (of Chasing Vincenzo fame) read that I would be back in Chicago and was kind enough to write and ask if I wanted to meet for dinner while I was in town. Since he's a great guy with a lot of interesting things to talk about, I agreed immediately. Bob ended up choosing a very nice tapas restaurant with authentic authentic Spanish tapas (quite a different story from the "fake" authentic tapas houses I've run into).
The restaurant, Emilio's, was celebrating an anniversary, so there was live music and flamenco dancers for entertainment. We started out with a bit of light pre-dinner conversation... war, politics, religion, who would win in a fight between Batman and Spider-Man... you know, the usual kind of stuff. But then we somehow got on the topic of nuclear fusion and all hell broke loose.
"You can't contain the super-plasma using inert gasses as a barrier between the magnetic fields. You need a total vacuum or it's not going to work!" Bob says.
"Oh I think it will work just fine if the molecular state of the gas is excited by injecting weak protons into the barrier matrix" I reply. "Perhaps xenon or argon would be a good gas to use."
"What did you just say?!?" Bob asks over the escalating sounds of the guitar and rat-a-tat-tat of the flamenco dancers stomping away.
"Errr... maybe xenon or argon..." I offer meekly.
"Argon?!? ARGON?!?? How can you say 'argon'— I hate argon gas!" Bob says loudly as he tries to compete with the music filling the restaurant. "No self-respecting scientist uses argon gas for containment!"
"Uhhh... calm down, Bob" I say diplomatically. "I'm sure quite a few nuclear scientists have had good success using argon to—"
"NO! NO THEY HAVEN'T!!" Bob bellows as he jumps up from the table, his temper soaring. "Stop saying that! Stop saying 'argon!'"
"Bob, you're overreacting" I say, trying to keep my voice calm. "Argon is just a gas, it's not—"
"THERE! YOU SAID IT AGAIN!!" Bob screams, his voice filled with fury. "I TOLD YOU NOT TO SAY THAT!"
Bob then grabs a handful of papas bravas (a yummy potato dish) and throws it at my head. The restaurant, once noisy with flamenco dancers, music, laughter, and conversation, suddenly becomes silent. A kindly waitress appears at our table and tries to fix things...
"Is there a problem here gentlemen?" she asks nervously.
"YES, THERE IS A VERY BIG PROBLEM HERE!! THIS BASTARD THINKS THAT ARGON GAS WOULD MAKE A GOOD BARRIER BETWEEN MAGNETIC FIELDS OF A FUSION REACTOR!" Bob roars, all eyes on him.
"Argon?" the waitress says in a small voice. "Well, maybe not argon per-se... but certainly if the gas molecules were in an excited state... perhaps by injecting weak protons?"
Bob just stands there for a minute fuming, his hands bunched into fists. Nobody moves. It's as if the restaurant has been suspended in time.
Suddenly, Bob springs across the table and lunges at the waitress. "I'll kill you! KILL YOU DEAD!" he screams, his eyes filled with rage. The waitress is paralyzed with fear as Bob knocks her to the ground and wraps his hands around her neck. "ARGON THIS!" Bob wails as his hands tighten on her throat.
Panic fills the air as people start running around screaming. One of the busboys and a team of flamenco dancers manage to pull Bob off the poor waitress and hold him at the bar. He starts yelling something about "argon gas being a tool of the devil," but I am in a state of total shock and don't hear it.
I just sat there sobbing quietly with papas bravas in my hair until the police showed up and took Bob away. Something tells me he won't be welcome back at Emilio's any time soon.
Well, okay, that's not really what happened.
We had a wonderful dinner with fantastic food, and it was a lot of fun. But I'm getting tired of writing about how great it is to meet up with my fellow bloggers, and so I thought it would be more entertaining to write about what would happen if Bob went crazy and tried to strangle a waitress.
Because that would be kind of cool.
Not for the waitress, obviously, but it would make for a far more exciting blog entry.
Anyway, thanks Bob for a great dinner!
I wish I knew what I have against cherries and cherry-flavored foods.
I'd like to blame it on the fact that I spent hot summer days in a smelly orchard picking cherries for back-to-school money when I was younger, but I never really cared for them before that. Cherries are just one of those things I dislike for no particular reason, and I haven't a clue as to why. Sure I loathe broccoli and cauliflower and stuff, but there is a very good reason for disliking them because they are ugly, smelly, taste gross, and make you fart.
They are pretty, sweet-smelling, assumably fart-free, and everybody else seems to love them...
The problem with disliking cherries is that you end up wasting a lot of edibles because almost every fruit assortment is assured of having cherry in it. When I buy a case of popsicles from the Schwan man, I end up with yummy orange, delicious grape, and a butt-load of gross cherry I have to try and give away. Buy a carton of Tootsie Pops, and it's the same way. Even a pack of Starburst Fruit Chews has me tossing a handful of candy out because of those freaky pink cherry squares.
Yes, life would be much better if I could get over my aversion to cherries. Instead I just become more freaked out during July and August because everywhere you go in the valley people are picking, selling, and eating cherries. It's cherries everywhere, and even when you don't seem them, there's always cherry pits that people have spit out into the gutters or dumped in a parking lot or something. A constant reminder of those yucky little red fruits.
The good news is that cherry season here in Washington State seems to finally be falling off. Soon, no longer will I be assaulted by bins of cherries when I enter the grocery store. People sucking on cherry stems and spitting out pits will be a much rarer sight. Cherries will slowly start to disappear and the world will eventually go back to normal.
Until next year.
It was a very long day.
At the end of it all... once I finally had time to eat... I decided that all I wanted was to go to IHOP (International House of Pancakes). They've been running commercials for weeks advertising their new "fruit-topped funnel cakes," and I have been keen to try them. Unfortunately, there is no IHOP where I live, so here was my chance (Spokane has three of them).
How can you resist something that looks as good as this...
Yeah, it tastes just as amazing as it looks (thought I had blueberries on top instead of strawberries). And so now I know what the perfect breakfast is:
It's a lot of food but, since I hadn't eaten all day, I was able to eat most of it.
And now I am back in my hotel room watching a documentary on the ritualistic circumcision celebrations of tribes in Vanuatu. It is all at once horrifying and fascinating. Of particular interest is that the parents of the child being circumcised can only drink coconut milk during the seven-week healing period after. Not only that, but women are not allowed to witness the ritual, nor are they allowed to see those having been circumcised until after they have healed. This causes quite a bit of stress on the poor mothers, but everybody gets together to dance, sing, and kill pigs at the end, so I guess it's all good.
Well, except for the pigs, of course. Not a good day to be a pig.
Five months ago I was going to quit blogging. Between the horrors of finding a hosting company that wouldn't screw me and the never-ending onslaught of hate mail and spam I was receiving each day... I had just had enough. Blogging wasn't fun anymore and I wanted out.
But then a little boy stopped to tie his show in front of my car one day and everything changed.
This morning I was driving on that exact same road and came upon a cat that was laying in the middle of my lane. A black cat. I slowed down thinking he would move out of the way as I approached, but he didn't. He looked up at me until I came to a stop, then started licking himself. He wasn't going anywhere.
"Huh." I thought. "Perhaps this is a sign to have a break from blogging. Maybe I should be taking the time to stop and lick myself?" (errr... metaphorically speaking). So I swerved around the cat and continued onward, all the while thinking that maybe a nice vacation from Blogography was a good idea. I'd take the rest of the year off and return to my daily writing on January 1st.
But then I read on Karl's blog that he has declared a "Quitting Moratorium" and my blogging vacation was ruined.
Thanks a lot Karl.
Later in the day I had work in Spokane. But when I got there, things weren't working out as planned, so I had to turn around and come back home. This basically meant that I just drove a 6-hour roundtrip for a slice of pizza.
Most people would be upset by this. But it was a slice of the Best Pizza In The Known Universe, so I wasn't upset at all. I once drove an eleven-hour roundtrip to visit a Hard Rock Cafe, so crazy stuff like this is nothing new to me.
Except now I'm tired and need to go to bed.
No DaveToon for you.
And it's not the kind of hungry where you just eat something to make it go away. It's the kind of hungry where you are more interested in the experience of eating than just having a full stomach. At times like this my mind starts racing with memorable culinary experiences I've had, followed by an incessant need to list some of them (which I will, in an extended entry), followed by the sadness I feel over writing about food I've enjoyed when so many people in this world go hungry... really hungry... every day...
My McChicken reminder of Happy Meals and hunger.
Hmmm... errr... uhhh... if anybody knows of a good way to seamlessly transition from talking about food to talking about urinal cakes, please let me know. In the meanwhile, I'll do what I usually do, and use the "blunt force" method which involves simply starting a new paragraph.
What is the deal with urinal cakes being PINK? And it's not even a manly kind of pink... it more of a feminine pink that you'd find on panties (not that I am claiming to actually own any of these panties) or a little girl's bedspread (not that I am claiming to be uncomfortably familiar with little girl's bedding preferences)...
Every time I step up to a urinal and find a little pink hockey puck floating in the bottom, I want to scream at the injustice of it all. Urinal cakes should be BLUE... or maybe even GREEN... but not yellow and certainly never, EVER, pink. If I were forced to choose between a bathroom which smelled like rancid urine and one that had pretty pink pellets in the urinal, I'D CHOOSE THE RANCID URINE SMELL EVERY TIME!! It may be unpleasant, odor-wise, but at least I won't have to suffer the indignity of having what little manhood I posses assaulted by girlie urinal cakes.
Anyway, if you have any appetite left at all, a partial list of favorite food experiences are in an extended entry...→ Click here to continue reading this entry...
Fun! On the way home from work I was nearly run over by a stupid bitch who thought that talking on her mobile phone was more important than watching the road. I almost wish that she had, because having to come home and watch @%^#*!'s collection of complete crap win Project Runway had me praying for death.
This morning I received an email from a nice reader who has spent the last month reading Blogography ("a monthly archive every morning!"). After saying some very nice things that I am too modest to reprint (summary: I totally kick ass!), this reader asked a question I found quite interesting: "How did Bad Monkey lose all that weight?"
Because, if you look at the DaveToons over the years, it's quite a change...
The answer can be found in Bad Monkey's new book...
It turns out that Bad Monkey owes much of the success of his astounding weight loss to Jared Fogle.
Yes, that Jared Fogle... the Subway Sandwich whore.
But not in the way that you think.
You see, what Bad Monkey did was record all those stupid-ass Jared commercials, then mount a television and video player on top of his toilet tank. That way after every meal he could run to the bathroom, watch Subway commercials, and puke his guts out.
Because every time Jared comes out and compares an anemic Subway sandwich with NO mayonnaise and NO cheese to a Big Mac or something, I know it makes ME want to puke. It would be different if Jared were to simply say "I lost a lot of weight by eating right & exercising, and Subway was a part of that" — but he doesn't. Instead he comes out as a prostitute for Subway and and slams other restaurants like a whore. Why don't you compare a crappy Subway sandwich to a McDonalds salad? Or an Arby's Market Fresh sandwich with NO mayo and NO cheese? Or even a Quizno's sandwich with NO mayo and NO cheese?
What a f#@%ing tool.
And then the douchebag writes a "motivational self-help book." I haven't read it, but I sincerely doubt that it says "be a total whore by taking money to say whatever the company paying you tells you to say." Jared ate at Subway because he lived above a Subway restaurant. The fact that he decided to lose weight had nothing to do with Subway. It had everything to do with finally deciding to eat right. Because I can go into a Subway right now and order a sandwich with triple cheese and extra mayo just as easily as I can order one without.
I've taken some crap from people who think that I'm a dick for picking on somebody as "inspirational" as Jared. Well I think he's a dick for bashing other restaurants with nonsensical comparisons because somebody pays him to, and then acts like he's a hero by trotting out his old big-ass pants and telling people the key to losing weight is eating at Subway.
The only thing Jared inspires me to do is buy his book so I can wipe my ass with the pages.
Bad Monkey doesn't wipe or he would too.
WARNING... Project Runway season finale spoilerage in the comments...
I live in constant fear of cauliflower.
And broccoli too, but mostly cauliflower because it looks more like a human brain. Although if I stop and think about it, broccoli should be more scary because it's like a green alien brain or something.
Every once in a while I have nightmares where I am being chased by a head of cauliflower which has grown to a giant size by sucking out human brains. Eventually the evil cauliflower traps me in a dead-end alley and there's nowhere to run. I pull out a gun and start firing at the vegetable hellspawn, only to find out that he is bullet-proof...
Then, just as the cauliflower is about to eat my brain, I wake up.
And I smell cauliflower.
But then I realize that I farted in my sleep, and that's what caused the nightmare.
Which makes me wonder why people would eat something that smells like farts in the first place.
Tonight I was watching a Steven Wright stand-up special on Comedy Central. The final break had a new Subway commercial where Jared the Subway Sandwich Whore trotted out subs with 6 grams of fat each and compared them to a "Burger King Stacker" which has 54 grams of fat because it's piled high with beef and bacon. FOR THE LAST TIME YOU STUPID F#@%... IF YOU WERE CONCERNED ABOUT FAT WHILE EATING AT BURGER KING, YOU WOULDN'T BUY THE FATTIEST THING ON THE MENU!! Why doesn't Burger King have a commercial where somebody comes out and compares a BK Veggie sandwich with 8 grams of fat to a Subway Spicy Italian Sub with extra cheese and mayo which has 305 grams of fat?? F#@% Subway. And double-f#@% that moron Jared Fogle. He has got to be the biggest douchebag asshole on the face of the planet. I'd like to strangle the idiot with his giant pair of f#@%ing pants and then deep-fry his f#@%ing head...
Then I'd make my own television commercial where I would compare Jared's fat head to a Subway Meatball Sub sandwich. They appear to be equal in brain cell grams.
♫ "Won't come back from Dead Man's Corn! ♫
Today I was at the grocery store about to pick up a box of "Orville Redenbacher's Movie Theater Butter Microwave Popping Corn" when I started freaking out because I suddenly realized that Orville Redenbacher is dead.
And then I started seeing dead people everywhere... Betty Crocker... Chef Boyardee... even that Sun-Maid Raisin Girl would be about 100 years old now, so she's probably dead too.
Granted, Orville Redenbacher always looked half-dead (and a little evil?) anyway, but Betty Crocker and the Sun-Maid Girl are HOT! I haven't made up my mind about Chef Boyardee, but I think he's kind of hot too...
I don't know about Mr. Clean, The Morton Salt Girl, and the Gorton Fisherman because I try not to clean with harsh chemicals, avoid added sodium in my high-sodium butter-popcorn diet, and don't eat fish.
Back to my quest for excellence in popcorn, raisins, canned pasta, and cake mix... I have no doubt that while these people were alive, they gainfully supervised over their respective foods with dedication and care. That's how they became famous icons with popular products. But what about now that they're gone? Who's minding the store?
Just to be safe, I passed over Orville Redenbacher and went for Pop Secret brand popping corn.
Only to find out that it is made by Betty Crocker. Or, to be accurate, somebody POSING as the deceased Mrs. Crocker.
So then I put that box back and decided to grab a box of Act II EXTREME BUTTER popping corn.
Only to realize that Act II is a brand in the ConAgra Foods stable of products... which also includes Chef Boyardee and Orville Redenbacher foods. MORE DEAD PEOPLE!
WTF?!? So I put back the Act II (which was kind of sad, because EXTREME BUTTER looked pretty tasty) and decided to go with Jolly Time brand popcorn. It sounds like a very happy popcorn to eat, and I can find no trace of dead people on the box. Except buying this brand is really difficult because there are like... fifty different kinds of buttery popcorn they sell...
When did shopping for popcorn get to be so much work?
From now on I'm buying generic SafeWay brand foods. It's dead-free, and "safe" is in the name!
My hand reached out to touch it and I was pleased to see that I was not trembling. There could be no mistakes. There was no room for error. Things would never be the same again and my excitement was palpable. With nothing left to lose (and everything to gain) I swallowed hard and took the knife.
The blade was cold against my hand as I stood mesmerized by the light glinting off the edges. Something primal was in control now and, despite my better judgement, I liked it. A pang of regret swept through me but I dismissed it immediately. There was no turning back. Not now.
I thrust the knife forward. It went in much easier than I expected. There was no resistance at all. Just for kicks, I stabbed it in a few more times. This made was a lovely squishy noise that sent tingles down my spine. But enough playing around, it was go time.
I smeared the soy tofu "cheese spread" on my cracker and stared at it.
It kind of looks like cheese. It's certainly better for your body than cheese.
And, though it didn't taste much like cheese, it still beat eating a plain cracker.
Plain crackers suck ass.
If only they made tofu Pop Tarts, I'd be able to eat a lot healthier.
Oooh! It's Bullet Point Sunday in the snow! Well, not really, because I don't see any snow falling outside... but that's what my weather widget is telling me. Darn you to heck you lying weather widget!
• WARNING! What is it with these stupid-ass warnings on DVDs now-a-days telling you not to steal movies? I JUST BOUGHT THE MOVIE... why in the heck do you waste my time telling me not to steal something I just bought... EVERY TIME I PLAY IT?
• ASSHOLES! I am getting so f#@%ing pissed off at all these f#@%ing idiots who drive down the f#@%ing road with two feet of f#@%ing snow heaped on top of their f#@%ing roof that comes flying off and f#@%ing smashes into my f#@%ing windshield...
One of these days I am going to follow one of these f#@%ing dipshits back to their f#@%ing house and get rid of that f#@%ing snow by setting their f#@%ing car on fire. Assholes.
• SHOP! Adobe released a public beta of Photoshop CS3 that runs super-sweet on my Intel Macs, and the speed increase alone is worth the massively huge download. The problem is that Photoshop CS2 never gave me any problems other than running slowly. What I need is a public beta of Adobe Illustrator CS3, because that CS2 sucker crashes constantly, and there are dozens of little quirks that drive me insane on a daily basis. I don't know if the icon change is temporary or not but, even though it lacks imagination, it sure beats the shit out of the horrendous old icons.
• FLAT! My local grocery got in some pricey pizza-type frozen entrees by "American Flatbread" which are simply amazing. I've only ever found the "three cheese" version, and am dying to try the other varieties but, alas, they are nowhere to be found in the valley. This is the first time I have ever eaten a frozen "pizza" which didn't taste like it came from a freezer, making it well worth the cost. I highly recommend giving one a try if your local grocery should happen to have them in stock...
• ZOOM! My Flickr Pro Account is running out and I am debating whether or not I want to renew it considering the good people at Zooomr will give bloggers a pro account for free. After all, if Zooomr is good enough for Thomas Hawk, a photographer I totally idolize, then surely it's good enough for me. My initial goofing around with the service has been good. There's only two negatives bothering me so far... 1) Logging in with OpenID is kind of clutzy because you aren't taken directly to your account, you instead get to muck about in the OpenID server and have to backtrack to get into Zooomr. 2) The interface is way cluttered compared to Flickr, and all that excess crap distracts from viewing the photos. That being said, the Zooomr community seems more closely-knit and active than Flickr. I uploaded just one photo and received five nice comments in barely any time at all. I suppose it doesn't hurt to nab my free account and figure it all out this weekend...
Foggy Day on The Great Wall of China
• MARS! Season Three of the amazing Veronica Mars is now available for sale at the iTunes Music Store. This will come in handy since TiVo WON'T GET OFF THEIR F#@%ING ASSES AND RELEASE A F#@%ING MEDIA PLAYER FOR MACINTOSH! What f#@%ing asswipes. Oh well, when I am away from home and can't get American television, the iTunes Store is probably more convenient than trying to mess around with BitTorrent. Holy shit I hope that Apple is working on a TiVo-like solution so I can kick my f#@%ing TiVo bullshit to the curb once and for all.