JusWondering… A New Years Resolution Revolution!

Hurry up people of the TripleDoubleU!  Hurry up people of the celeb mags and celeb shows!  Our time is ticking down to put together our Best Of’s… and Top Ten’s… and New Years Resolutions’s’s’s…’s…

For me, I never quite understood what it meant to make a New Years Resolution,  so I looked up the word “resolution.”  According to TheFreeDictionary (since I didn’t feel like getting up to grab a real dictionary), in the middle of a bunch of words I didn’t feel like reading, this phrase popped out at me:

An explanation, as of a problem or puzzle; a solution

New Years is about solving problems?!  I never knew that!  Consider that my first problem solved for 2009.  Or would it be my last one in 2008…?

Here’s a Best Of What Could Have Been on a Top Ten List of Problems I Will Get To the Bottom Of in 2009:

1) Why do eyelashes have to hurt so much when they get in your eye?  I understand their purpose is to keep other garbage off our orbs, but this is tantamount to sleeping in a bed surrounded by swords to keep monsters away.  If some dusteroid is about crash on your cornea, eyelids are your last line of defense – not barbed hairs.

Bed sores to the next level

Bed sores to the next level (x-treme!)

2) Why do socks come packaged in a Ziplock bag like they’re deli lunch meat?  Do they go stale?  Is that why feet can get stinky?  Is there an expiration date I’m unaware of?  (All to be resolved in 2009.)

Feet meet Meat?

Feet meet Meat?

3) How do you go about getting a job as a Going Out Of Business Sign Holder, or as one of those people that look through View-Masters at people holding sticks across the street?  Are they employed by the store that’s closing?  Are they new hires?  Do they go through an agency like Bret did on “Flight of the Conchords?”  And as for surveyors – what the heck are they doing out there?

She's thinking she needs a new loveseat...

She's thinking she could use a new loveseat...

4) Would sour cream sell better if it was called dairy sauce?  I’m adverse to buying a cream that’s sour (it’s beside the point that I don’t like it anyway).  Would people be adverse to buying a sauce with a dairy source?

Still... no thanks...

Still... no thanks...

5) Why are they even still making regular billboards?  Electronic ones kick ass!

I'm like a moth drawn to light... or a fat kid to candy.

I'm like a moth drawn to light... or a fat kid to candy.

6) Why, oh God why, am I better at singing Alanis Morissette’s You Oughta Know than Soundgarden’s Spoonman on Rock Star 2?  100% vs. 86%?  I’m blaming all of Chris Cornell’s random Mmm‘s and Oh‘s.  Come to think of it… why was I even singing Alanis Morissette?

All I Want For Christmas Is… A New Fast Food Joint

How about Pasta La Feasta's instead?

How about Pasta La Feasta's instead?

About a month ago, when I realized I had become a drive-thru regular at Taco Bell, I created a post that gave a few ideas to entrepreneurs for new restaurant chains (Kabob Stop, Dim Sum Gong, Pierogi To Go, and Taka Sushi).

After having some time to think, and after getting sick of my same old options (Wendy’s, KFC, Arby’s, the aforementioned Bell, Culver’s, Burger King, Quizno’s, Jimmy Johns, Potbelly, Qdoba, National Coney Island, Kerby Coney Island, CiCi’s, A&W, Mickey D’s, and Hungry Howies), I’m really craving a change.

They tried putting in a Del Taco nearby my work (ugh) and the nearest Sonic is still a good 40 miles away.

What I think is missing (besides the places I created) is a fast food Italian cuisine.  Fazoli’s was the closest thing we had to that, and although it wasn’t the absolute greatest, it worked.  Too bad they shut ’em all down in Michigan.

If anyone wants to take me up on my ideas, go for the Polish one first.  I probably won’t eat at the other places anyway.

Sparks To Lose Sizzle Come Next Yizzle

2008 was a tough year for everyone.  It was especially tough on the “malternative” nation.  A few months back, MillerCoors announcing they were canning Zima (no, not taking out of bottles and putting into aluminum… they’re scrapping it altogether).

The plan was to push Sparks in its place, but assholes across America had other ideas (from AP):

MillerCoors agreed to remove caffeine, taurine, guarana and ginseng from Sparks and not produce caffeinated alcohol beverages in the future…in a deal with 13 states and the city of San Francisco, who had contended the drink targeted young drinkers.

The company must also eliminate all references in advertising to caffeinated formulations and not promote Sparks as a mixer for caffeinated drinks. It will remove the plus and minus symbols — which evoke a battery — found on the blue and orange cans for the product. The company also agrees not to use batteries, rockets, lightning bolts, or the terms “powered by” or “ignite” in marketing the new formulation.

The MillerCoors settlement… includes the attorneys general of Arizona, California, Connecticut, Idaho, Illinois, Iowa, Maine, Maryland, Mississippi, New Mexico, Ohio and Oklahoma and the city attorney of San Francisco.

It’s a devil’s brew of a product because it combines caffeine with alcohol,” (Steve Gardner, litigation director for public advocacy group the Center for Science in the Public Interest) said.

If Sparks is the devil’s brew, what are Jaeger Bombs?  Rum and Cokes?  Hell, what’s a Long Island Iced Latte?  (Okay, that last one doesn’t exist, but I’d try it.)

All of this is like a version of “Field of Dreams.”  In that movie, “If you build it, they will come.”  In this situation, it’s “If you change the formula, they’ll just find something else.”  Stupid.

I believe Carles of Hipster Runoff puts it best:

Sparks was more than just a drink. It was truly a BRAND. It was more than ‘just another product.’ When I think of Sparks, I think of a lifestyle. I think of good times. I can honestly not think of another beverage with a brand stronger than SPARKS. After a night of Sparks, I could not fall asleep. My heart felt like it wanted to burst of out my chest. My tongue would be orange the next day. Another memory of the previous night–I would look in the mirror, stick out my tongue and smile…

Save one can. Hide it somewhere–this is now your forbidden fruit. In the next few years, something will go wrong or you will feel down. Treat yourself to the sweet nectar that is Sparks…

Honestly. I would give anything for one more SPARKS vomit.

You have until January 10th to get the old-school Sparks.

Mommy, I want one!

Mommy, I want one!

In My Brain While Sleeping… Sacrilege X-Treme!

Yesterday, I had a snow day.  Yes, adults can have them to… when they’re lazy.

Michigan had a huge snow fall, so all I did was sit on my couch all day, laptop in, um, lap, reading and milling about.  I almost forget to eat about midday, and when I stood up from the couch, my legs weren’t ready to work and I’ll fell back again.  They were sleeping… I guess they were just being lazy and took a snow day too.

Anyhardsalamisandwich, I finally ate a hard salami sandwich and returned to the couch for the rest of the eve.  At a very late hour (10:30ish if I recall), I opted for some cake (see below).  Not too long after, I brushed my chompers and opted for bed.  (Did you know that I brush my teeth with a hair brush?  I goes much quicker.  Ha!  No, I don’t.  I fooled you.  But I do use a swatch of human hair.)

In my slumber, I had a mess of messed-up dreams.  Here’s the snippets I recall:

  • Vampires.  It was fucking scary as hell, and all I know is I was one too.  There were various forms and sizes that you could only see if you were a blood-sucker, and it answered my question of, “why would anyone say they wouldn’t want to be a vampire?”  I’ve been asking my friends this lately, and some say they want to die (to which I said a stake would work) and some said they didn’t want to outlive their loved ones (to which I brought up the benefit of turning your loved ones undead as well).  But srsly… this one was wicked.  It woke me up in the wee hours of the morning, like at 1am.
  • Dog Baptism.  I don’t remember much other than the brouhaha surrounding the church when this plan was going down.  It was a golden retriever (a Sandy shout-out), but I’ve never had one.  (We had two mini mutts, a mini schnauzer, a cairn terrier, and mini daschund – little dogs, little poop + no crotch shots).  I feel like the walls started crumbling down as beams of light shone through the stain-glass windows.  It could have been reporters for all I know.
  • Spaghetti Sauce Made With Ice Cream.  A friend was showing me how to replace butter and milk in a recipe for spaghetti sauce (as you can guess, I have no idea how anything is made).  He used a lot of French vanilla ice cream and threw black and bell corn pepper into a container of it, then he mixed it with an equal amount of tomato sauce.  It looked nasty, but I never got to taste it.  A few things to note here: I dream way too much about spaghetti.  Don’t get me wrong – I enjoy it, but it’s not like I’m obsessed with it.  And why is this sacrilegious?  It’s a waste of perfectlygood French vanilla ice cream… which I’m obsessed with.
  • Unnatural Childbirth.  In the future, a woman swallows a device called Point A.  Point B is then placed on a rolling poll, much like I.V. drips, and positioned accordingly between her legs.  Point C and D (which look like Point B) are placed to the left and right of her womb.  Point E is under her table, and Point F is on a movable arm above her belly, like a light at the dentist.  A doctor managing a computer checks the coordinates and engages the devices.  A portal appears beside him which contains the child.  He scoops the small one out, snips and ties the umbilical cord, and hands the baby to the nurse.  He disengages the portal and hands the newborn over to mother.  No cesarean section nor vaginal tearing.  It’s not really sacrilegious either, but do you think this kind of technology will get an easy pass from fundamentals?  Doubt it.

INGREDIENTS: Pepperidge Farm Fudge Stripe 3-Layer Cake that was best if used by December 10th, which was the third item I tried to eat in the last two days that was expired.  The others were a plastic box of lettuce and a bag of grilled chicken (I planned to make chicken and salad when I bought them two weeks ago).  Oddly, the lettuce smelled like ass although it didn’t look rotten (for being a week overdue), and although the bag o’ chicken expanded like it had botulism or something, it did not smell, so I ate it.  (In case you didn’t know, I you buy a bag of any food and it expands, that means bacteria is growing inside… it’s some report I saw… I think…) 

Back to the chicken for a second – since I wasn’t in doubt (although I was, but it was minor), I didn’t throw it out.  I put it in the mickyfor two minutes, and since I had no idea what to eat it with since I had no lettuce, I threw shredded mozzarella on it and Italian dressing anyway.

Now back to that cake – even though it doesn’t say so (check the pic below), I’m beginning to wonder if it was actually devil’s food cake.

Too rich for my boiling blood... in hell!

Too rich for my boiling blood... in hell!

Drunken Recollection… I Have No Idea What I Recollected

I’m going to let everyone in on a little secret about the mysterious workings behind this blog.  I wake up at the crack of dawn everyday (I just love beating the sun) and walk to my corner gas station to pick up a local paper.  Sure, I could have the delivery boy bring it, but the exercise keeps the ol’ pumper pumping (besides, I leave the paper boy a tip every Christmas as if I subscribed to help make up for his losses).  As I mill through the ink print to discover what’s going on in this world, I pour myself some whole grain cereal and organic milk, with a side of orange juice and toast (I use real butter to lather my heated wheat treat – it’s my only vice!)  I even slice up bananas and strawberries to put on top, like in the commercials.  After immediately washing the dishes and separating my recyclables, I ready the tub for a nice bubble bath and who am I kidding… I barely wake up on time to get to work at 10:30ish.  I should be there at 9!  This is the case due to the habit of my evening imbibing of carbonated, fermented brown water.

While at the draft tap establishments, conversations erupt, and often I’m reminded of something clever to write about, and I make a note in my cell phone.  Usually, I can translate.  Most times, I find messages like this:

  1. dancing caveman jukebox
  2. baby jacket
  3. think straw when see
  4. deli 25 bux
  5. whoprvirgins baby coat
  6. mr. wizard
  7. getn away w murdr
  8. angus young black
  9. martha quinn med woman
  10. kidbits

There are other notes of which I do remember, and will be inevitable posts, but these strike little or no chord.  Or I remember having a drunken laugh about them, such as 3, 8, and 9.  I believe 3 refers to how when I see a straw in somebody else’s drink at the table, I move toward my drink as though it also has a straw (I don’t drink beer with a straw anymore… not since I got rid of my “Cast Away” Halloween costume beard… although at times I have joined many straws so I wouldn’t have to pick up my mug).  8 and 9 were common mix-ups I have about AC/DC’s lead singer and the old MTV VJ.

1 and 4 were going to be big to-do’s, but I really had no fodder.  I cannot stand the dancing Geico caveman on digital jukeboxes, and I love how you don’t have to sign credit card statements on things less than $25.  I have no idea what the “deli” has to do with anything.  Much like number 7 – that one scares me because I’m 100% clueless about it.

2 and 5 repeated the theme of those stupid small coats that the ladies wear nowadays.  I wanted to bring up how pointless and stupid and trendy they are – much like Uggs boots.  I don’t know why I jotted down the Burger King website in conjunction with the jacket, though.

6 and 10 probably had to do with the same chit chat about childhood TV science shows.  I don’t know “Mr. Wizard,” per se, but “Kidbits” taught me how to make a chair out of three baseball bats (I also believe the demonstration was with knives or forks… I’m leaning toward knives though) and how to poke a straw through a potato. 

In closing, here’s “Kidbits” theme:

All I Want For Christmas Is… A Toilet That Doesn’t Clog

I’ll spare you the details, but just know that in the last 24 hrs. I’ve eaten:
  • A Hungry Howies pizza – size small – with pepperoni, cheese, and heavy Cajun crust
  • A Smokehouse Bacon Triple-the-Cheese Big Mouth Burger, with fries, chips, and queso dip
  • A Bob Evans homestyle breakfast containing flapjacks, sausage, eggs, and mashed potatoes with gravy

And after a recent incident occurred, all I’m dreaming about is a better toilet.  The industrial ones at my office building are forces of nature (so to speak).  It’s my home John J. Crapper that’s a “wholey tearer.”

Not to be much cruder, but I’ve taken dumps in many places around the world, and I wonder if the alternatives might be worth it.  In Japan, this is how they go Niban (a.k.a. #2):

New visual for Pop-a-Squat.

New visual for Pop-a-Squat.

In Amsterdam, I discovered “the shelf,” courtesy of German toilet engineering:

Goodbye floaters!  Hello shelfers!

Goodbye floaters! Hello shelfers!

I thought I might try to find out something about Australian toilets, like, maybe the “reverse flush” might have a stronger pull, but all I ended up doing was watching a crap load of videos like this:

All-in-all, I guess anything is better than this:

I... think I can wait until I get home.

I... think I can wait until I get home.

Happy Find… Do You Love My Hair?

This song is a tribute to the age old question: what do women look for in a man?

(And my answer to the opposite of that question: a pair of drum-playing twins.)

(Thanks Dave)

In My Brain While Sleeping… My Job As A David E. Kelley Show

fyvushfinkel

The second job I ever had was at a medical center for a major hospital (my first job was at a toy store).  I worked there just over six years, and the staff saw me through two graduations and a move from Detroit to L.A.  In this dream, I had returned to the facility (which no longer exists in real-life).  It was in the same location but major remodeling updates had occurred, such as having wood floors throughout, an updated kitchen, and forest green walls with better than average art hanging on them.

I remember walking through as if it was filmed, and it felt like a David E. Kelley show (“Boston Legal,” “Ally McBeal,” the awesome “Chicago Hope,” “Picket Fences,” “L.A. Law,” home sex movies with wife Michelle Pfeiffer).

I was the generic perspective guy through whom the viewers relate.  I kept checking out the new looking digs, expecting a big homecoming, trying to run into people that might have remembered me.  I saw a few doctors and medical assistants I knew, but they were busy heading between rooms.  Otherwise, through the back hallways, I encountered new faces that were basically upgrades of people that came before.

The show jumped into action once I reached the front desk where I worked as a customer service rep.  My uncles, Fred and Richard, were doctors for some reason, and Danny Glover (pictured below) was a special guest star.

The scene went like this: Doctor Uncle Fred brought me the billing sheet for one of his patients.  The patient had a co-pay of $5 which my uncle knocked down to $3.  Doctor Uncle Richard stepped in to pay the remainder, to help the guy out.  I guess he was an old friend of the pair that had fallen on hard times.  The man also had his two moppet sons with him.

Danny Glover, a fellow CSR, took issue with it.  “I don’t care if it’s hard times or not!  You have to do what you must!  You stop buying the fancy things you don’t need.  You make bread instead of going out and buying it.  You fish instead of going on vacation!”  After the patient left, someone informed Danny that the man lived in a car with his sons.

Cut to: Fyvush Finkel (pictured above – a Kelley recurring player).  He’s an older doctor that’s just been told his wife of 50 years is leaving him when we meet him.  Also, she’s stolen all his belongings and money.  He clutches a forest green wall in disbelief.  The hallway he’s in seem to converge and narrow as he stumbles down it toward his office.

Cut to: me at the front desk trying to remember how to do things.  When I was there before, it was all on paper.  Now everything was digital.  A patient came in that had a specimen to deliver with a message.  As I looked for the old forms we took messages on, the patient revealed the specimen was anthrax.

Then I woke up.  The end.

INGREDIENTS: Late night Taco Bell run, for sure.

danny_glover

In My Brain While Sleeping… I May Have A Drinking Problem

I’m almost as hooked on the snooze bar as I am the booze bar, but as of late, I have not recalled many of my dreams.  This morning – a whopper, a flopper, and a doozy.

SCENARIO UNO

Do not go Freudian on me.

Do not go Freudian on me.

I was the eldest lad in a family of seafarers.  The brood’s Papa was a maritime cop, and he must have had it hard (who wants to have any job that begins with maritime?).  Every night it seemed Mama would wait for him to get home to serve dinner, and every night he’d be late (you’d think Mama would have learned).  I remember working on a crossword puzzle in a magazine.  I also recall the entire decor looking retro 70’s, or maybe it took place in the 70’s.  (Hello “Life on Mars.”)  Anyway, when Papa would get home, the first thing he’d do was pour a glass of whiskey on the rocks.  Then he’d dunk a banana in it.  He called it the Cop-a-Cabanana.

SCENARIO DOS

Hot chocolate chips!

Hot chocolate chips!

I don’t drink coffee.  As I’ve stated before, my cup of tea is Mountain Dew.  In my brain, I must live for Starbucks.  For some reason, while in line to get my iced mochachino espressosaurus rex, the announcement was made that Starbucks was being bought out.  That this shocked me in the dream shocks me now.  The reason for the buyout: too many people that bought their coffee were losing their jobs, and thus poor Starbucks was going down.  The purchaser: Mrs. Field’s Cookies.  They also bought out Arby’s for who-know-why.  My question was, “How could Mrs. Field’s succeed where Starbucks failed?”  The answer: No matter what, everyone eats cookies.

SCENARIO TRES

I couldn

No Photoshopping here.

This was by far one of the most disturbing – not in content, but in juxtaposition of content.  Stitch (the alien experiment to the left) was boozing it up and chomping down cigars faster than George Burns, Bill Clinton, and Monica Lewinsky put together.  (He kind of reminded me of the smoking chimp.)  And that’s fine.  It’s well within Stitch’s personality.  But to note: this dream was in cartoon form, and this is where things spiraled into time for me to wake up.   Across the room, Stitch spotted an inflatable doll.  He stumbled towards it, placed his head between its legs, and bit.  Pop! 

Needless to say, I had it enough with the snooze bar. 

…We’ll see about the regular bar.

INGREDIENTS: Cajun chicken sandwich, soggy bar fries, and mucho de boozo.

Drunken Recollection… Things Learned Over Thanksgiving Weekend

Thanksgiving weekend has come and gone, as has all the turkey (et. al.) through me.  With this in mind, I shall impart onto you the various things that I learned over the past four days.

1) There is something called The Amazing Plant Lamp.  As the website proclaims:

The only lamp of its kind where you quickly touch the live plant to turn it on and off or hold a leaf and it works as a dimmer.

Ain’t that the bees knees!  Just stick the Amazing Plant Lamp kit in any plant and voila!

2) Raisins are forcibly put into too many things, like cinnamon bread and puddings.  I usually don’t eat any of these foods anyway, but I can relate because of how common it is for bakers to put nuts in fudge brownies (that could be taken out of context)!  Enough!  I want choices!

(SIDE NOTE: I used to like Fig Newtons as a kid because I thought it was some kind of weird tasting chocolate.  Then I learned and thus hated them.)

3) Chocotinis have zero alcohol content, despite what anyone else might claim.  My sister was pulled over for having non-working turn signals.  She was nervous and forgot her alphabet.  The cop made her do the random balance tests and the such, then he gave her a Breathalyzer test.  She blew zero.  Case closed!

4) You can break the bottom off a beer bottle with water and a hand slap.  Basically, take an empty bottle (in this case, it was Coors Light), fill it halfway with water, hold the neck in one hand, and slam the palm of your other hand on the bottle’s mouth.  The bottom drops out from the instant air pressure, I guess.  Apparently, beer has more shock absorption.

5) My cousin Steve might be a diabolical genius.  In discussing the biggest insults one man could make against another (backhanding was #3… spitting in face was #2… we didn’t go beyond what’s to follow), he declared the greatest coup, the most humiliating attack, the most degrading defeat, the biggest insult to be ever perpetrated in the world would be this – to tickle a man in front of his family.  Right in front of his wife, his children, and his dog.  Tickled to the point of tears and uncontrollable laughter.  It’s guaranteed that after the giggles were through, he’d pack up his things and walk out the door, not saying a word, not making any eye contact, swearing to himself to never return again, and all this would be understood.  Out of humiliation he’d still support the family, though thousands of miles away.  And his family could become your family.

6) As a kid, I watched WXYZ Channel 7 way more than I realized, because they had a special on about their past 60 years, and I got choked up.  Stupid nostalgia…

7) I would put that the Detroit Lions suck, but I already knew that.