Friday, August 29, 2008
Instead of typing the 1007 words it would take to describe how pleased and grateful I am for all of the precious dollops of Guest Blogginess that Bac-Log poured carefully into the 'tubes over this last week, I took a picture (worth 1000 words) and added 7 more words out of pocket to cover the balance:
Guest Bloggers, you are Glory. You are Bac-Log.
Also, I think Guest Blogging will become a semi-regular feature, so do not let those harrowing tales of mystery and suspense and unexpected romance die trapped within you! Set them free to roam in the wide fields of Bac-Log.
Thank you, and good morning.
[ed note: Wait, good morning does not really work as a sign-off, does it?]
Thank you, and good fake-evening.
Thursday, August 28, 2008
So most of our (Seattle-based) friends have no doubt heard the Kyles, Grant, and I talk about going to Midori Teriyaki for lunch many times. I would say that Heenkypants and I probably go there 1-2 times a week, Steuck and Grant meeting up with us when they can. It's always nice to get away from work for a little bit, and the teriyaki is really really good. So last Friday I found myself on the sharp end of an especially brutal day (week, actually) at the Hutch and needed Midori. Seriously, I NEEDED it. I tried to rally the troops, but unfortunately everyone else was in similarly precarious situations. I don't know what came over me, but I did it. Solo Midori was had. As I dug in, something was immediately a little off. Can of Coke? Check. Extra glass of water? Check. Extra teriyaki sauce? Check. Sriracha? Check. Everything seemed to be in order. I put it out of my mind and plowed through. And it was good. Not as good as normal, though. The weird thing was that I couldn't quite put my finger on what was off. It should have been another stellar lunch at Midori. But it wasn't. I chalked it up to my stressful week at work and trekked back to the Hutch. But halfway there, my stomach staged a mini-revolt. I toughed it out, but by the time I got back to my desk the revolt had made it's way up to my chest. It felt like there were a bunch of tiny little men trying to stab their way out of my chest. Not good times. BAD TIMES. My co-worker Becky (you might remember her from some of her awesome posts on the There Will Be Bacon blog as the Beckster) immediately started checking for signs that I was having a heart attack. Unfortunately, she got some of the symptoms wrong and started freaking out because she thought I was having a heart attack. I had to practically tackle her to keep her from running out into the hall and grabbing a portable defibrillator (a machine that she didn't know how to use). On my way home, I pondered the events of the day. Why had Midori betrayed me so? As I was cursing the gods (Poseidon knows what he did), it finally dawned on me. Midori hadn't betrayed me. I had betrayed it! And my friends. And this was Midori's way of letting me know what I had done. It was as if Midori was the physical manifestation of our love and mutual admiration for each other, and when I went there alone I was eating myself. Or something like that. In any event, I learned a valuable lesson about myself and the world in general. I will never take my friends for granted again. I will leave you with the words of some of our generation's greatest wordsmiths:
Don't you forget about me
I'll be alone, dancing you know it baby
Going to take you apart
I'll put us back together at heart, baby
Don't You Forget About Me
Don't Don't Don't Don't
Don't You Forget About Me
to: grant laine
subject: Baclog: your content prayers are answered
Per Ian's suggestion, I am sending you this link for the baclog:
Sadly for you, though. I won't be bothering to guest-blog it, as I am ripping off to Maine today (What I Ate: Lobster pancakes with lobster syrup, Lobster salad with lobster-blueberry vinagrette, Boiled lobster with lobster mashed potatoes) and can't be arsed.
Unless you just want to post this e-mail verbatim. Which would be totally PoMo of you.
to: grant laine
subject: RE: Baclog: your content prayers are answered
Ugh. When you do, can you change the period after "though" to a comma? I'm punctuationtarded today.
from: grant laine
subject: RE: Baclog: your content prayers are answered
You do understand that this is also going in the post, right?
to: grant laine
subject: RE: Baclog: your content prayers are answered
Yeah. I'm over it.
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
Dear Grant's Diary:
A big part of being a man now (which I am, and you should know this if you studied my chronicles like I "axed" you to) is being willing to explore new interests and hobbies, even if your stupid friends make fun of them and make you want to punch them all the time, especially Kyle. You never know what you might learn from these hobbies and interests!
For example, I was recently riveted and engaged by an exciting match of my favorite elitist sport, English Premier League Football. After the exciting bout of elegance, skill, and grace the likes of which are rarely found in mainstream American sports, I further enriched my appreciation of the match by watching the post game interviews and commentary! Being a man now means that I thirst for a deeper understanding and appreciation of things, even things I just watched.
During the interview with the coach who unfortunately failed to lead his team to victory but still managed to be refined and classy, I was treated to a spectacular metaphor! Wow! I expected to experience thoughtful commentary regarding the strategies and inner workings of that day's delightful sporting, but this intellectual discourse was an exciting bonus! The metaphor for the loser team was that victory was like a blanket, and that the blanket wasn't quite big enough to cover your feet, and so that if you were cold or something you might have to curl up, and somehow this had to do with the football match and the losing.
Being a man now means I have more important things to think about than remembering the exact metaphor, okay.
I was excited to apply this new type of metaphorical thinking to my life! Later that day I invited my homies over to enjoy some intellectual discourse and fancy microbrew beer. I tried to explain my eye-opening experience with the metaphor about the victory blanket, but they did not seem to grasp why I was so interested in this and also why I had spent all day watching "soccer". Being a man now is difficult sometimes when you have to deal with non-mans.
Then one of my friends found my caulking gun that I had been using to apply sealant around my bathtub (being a man now means I am occasionally involved in home-maintenance). He said, "hey guys, look! I am squeezing Jason's caulk.....ing gun!" Then another of my homies said, "hey, quit hogging Jason's caulk.....ing gun!" And then, "hey Jason, how do you like it when we hold your caulk.....ing gun?" and then, "not too hard, or white stuff will come out of Jason's caulk.....ing gun!"
Several hours later I tried to explain the victory blanket metaphor again but my friends told me that they were bored with all of my metaphor rambling and went back to playing with my caulking gun.
I think this is a pretty good metaphor of the life of Jason the Man.
This is Jason the Man, signing off.
As the title suggests, I've been keeping a secret for a while that I can't keep to myself any longer. I might not have ever shared it with anyone had it not been for this guest blogging opportunity. A food themed blog seems like the best place to air this particular laundry, as it is edible laundry in a way. In the metaphorical way. Not in the edible panties way. Anyway, a little background for those less familiar with my eating habits…
There are few things on this earth that I enjoy more than eating me some pie. Pies of all varieties and qualities, I'm a happy camper. If I had a car, I would have a license plate, and if I had a license plate I would have a license plate frame and if I had a license plate frame it would read: I'D RATHER BE EATING PIE or perhaps instead it would read: MY WORST DAY EATING PIE STILL BEATS MY BEST DAY FISHING.
I am a lover of all kinds of pie: Sweet Potato, Apple, Peach, Lemon Meringue… I could go on and on. There is something about a buttery tender crust wrapped lovingly around a puddle of sweet delicious goop that makes my heart go a-flutter. Or maybe that's the cholesterol? It matters not. For breakfast, there is no better way to kick start a day than heading out the door with nice cup of coffee and a couple slices of Pecan, Pumpkin, or any of the countless other portable pies suitable for eating "pizza style".
Goodness, I'm out of breath. What was my point again? Ah yes, the ugly secret. There is one variety of pie that I can not and will not eat. A pie that seems to have ALL the qualities I love about pie plus it has MEAT. INSIDE. THE PIE. Alas, the result is indeed less than the sum of it's parts, for…
Chicken Pot Pie might be the most disgusting thing I've ever eaten in my life.
I don't even know where to start with this. Sure, meat + pie is a good start. But oh the execution! What is all that liquidy stuff in there that burns my mouth EVERY TIME? What is a PIE doing burning my mouth anyway? Is the crust supposed to be all soggy like that? Why are there so many peas? I like peas, but COME ON. The essence of pie is to be packed to the effing gills with goodness… filled with delicious until it is on the verge of literally bursting. PEAS DO NOT CUT IT. Peas are the Seattle Mariners of food. A shocking number of people claim to enjoy them and spend money on them, but you are shocked to find later that they can't name more than 3 players and one of them wasn't even a player he was the manager like 5 YEARS AGO, another is a player who left the team like 8 YEARS AGO and all you know about him is that you are required to dislike him intensely, and OH MY GOD DID YOU JUST SAY WILLIE BLOOMQUIST IS YOUR FAVORITE PLAYER?! DID YOU NOT NOTICE THAT BESIDES BEING FROM BREMERTON HIS ONLY OTHER QUALITY IS THAT HE IS THE WORST PLAYER IN THE HISTORY OF BASEBALL?
I'm not really sure where I was going with this, but I feel better now. Thanks for reading.
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
I read Grant's “heart felt” “plea” for “guest bloggers” and I “felt” a “need” to “jump in” and “help out”.
Over the last month and a half an amazing thing has happened. I don't really know why and I don't know how but I've been reading... a lot. In the last month or so I've read three books. That's right. THREE F'ING BOOKS! That is definitely a Satty record. I've never, for no reason at all, just started reading. So, here is a little Book Report for you Bac-Loggers. It's actually three book reports. I hope you all enjoy it.
Tipping Point by Malcolm Gladwell
Thoughts before reading:
I have some time and I have the book. I've heard good things about it. Why not? I'm into thinking about why things become popular and it would be interesting to think more about how trends happen. For example: I remember in like fifth or sixth grade all the younger kids, the third and fourth graders, really got into trolls. Seriously, little troll figures with neon colored hair. It didn't seem to make sense to me then and it still doesn't exactly make sense now. I mean these kids had all sorts of different trolls. Happy trolls, Sad trolls, Goofy trolls, Soccer Trolls, Scientist Trolls. Truth be told, when I am not really part of “The Big Trend” it doesn't bother me. If you're into trolls... that's cool... whatever. Be into trolls. I'm more fascinated by what exactly I'm not getting that the masses seem to be getting. I remember the trolls, then it was pogs, then it was Poke-mon cards. What the heck was going on?
Thoughts after reading:
Really fascinating stuff here. I didn't learn anything about trolls, but at least I can kind of piece it together. Were the right kind of people involved? Was the trend “sticky”? Was it cultivated in the right kind of enviroment? I guess so. The book started talking about the mid-1990's Hush Puppies trend and gradually moved on to bigger issues like teen smoking and the really nasty trend of school shootings. With no real concrete solutions, the book still offered good suggestions and covered an interesting topic. All in all I felt like there was plenty of this book that I could apply to my work life. I could also probably apply these methods to that “Jump to Conclusions” matt I've been trying to make a million dollars off of. We'll see how that goes.
Blink by Malcolm Gladwell
Thoughts before reading:
That other book was good. Some dude in Richland told me that this book was even better. Blink is basicaly about snap decissions and gut reactions. For the past couple of years I've really been trying to trust my feelings and follow my instintcs. Not as a Jedi Mind Trick sort of thing, more as a Can I Become a Professional Sports Gambler? sort of thing.
Thoughts after reading: I suddenly have the urge to play poker. I don't have any desire; however, to lead the police in a high speed chase... err, not that I've ever thought about that before. Two things I learned for the future: When forced to make quick snap decissions, gather as much information as possible and calmly choose the best option. When given a lot time and space to make a choice, go with the “gut reaction”. Examples: If I'm a deli line in Boston, go with the club sandwich seconds before they decide to throw a knife at me. If I'm at the Roxy in Freemont, tell them I'm having the club sandwich before they even hand me a menu. I do like me a club sandwich. This was a good book. Gladwell's next book comes out sometime in October... oh, I'm totally going to read the crap out of that book.
Killing Yourself to Live by Chuck Klosterman
Thoughts before reading: I've heard an interview with the Author... he seems interesting. I like the idea of a “road trip” book and I'd like to hear what he has to say about the sites of famous “rock'n roll” deaths.
Thoughts after reading: It took me two days to read the whole book!! It didn't even have any pictures in it. What a damn good book. I literally LOL'd at several points. Funny story. Funny guy this Chuck Klosterman.
Good Times! Reading is totally FUNdamental!
Monday, August 25, 2008
Two worlds collided. And they will never tear us apart.
When I first saw this recipe, I was kind of repulsed. Bacon cupcakes? Ew. But I do love bacon. And I do love cupcakes. And, being half-Canadian, I am required by law to love maple syrup. The more I thought about it, the more it intrigued me. Maybe it would be yummy. If only there were some way to find out if it would actually be delicious.
But wait! I noticed that the recipe only yielded six cupcakes, which is good. If they were disgusting, I wouldn't feel bad about throwing them all out. If they were delicious, I would not gain 300 pounds by eating the entire batch. So I stopped by the grocery store tonight and got some bacon, the only ingredient we were missing.
Me, sampling some bacon cupcake batter on a strip of bacon.
Upon seeing that I didn't vomit all over the place after taking a bite of bacon cupcake batter, Lorne agreed to try it as well.
This is called "baking."
They look good...
Aerial view of unfrosted cupcakes.
I put the frosting on when they were still a bit warm, partly because I made these rather late at night and I was impatient to get them finished so I could...well, so I could take pictures and blog about them. But I also liked the idea of more of a glazey frosting instead of a thick buttercream, so the frosting melted a bit.
Are they breakfast? Are they dessert? I don't know, but I can assure you that they are delicious, whenever you decide to eat them. I wonder what other sort of pig products would be delicious in dessert form. Porkchop pudding? Canadian Bacon lollipops?
Update: sadly, bacon cupcakes were NOT delicious the next morning. The bacon soggified in the cake overnight. It was like someone had stuck salty rubber in the middle of my delicious maple cupcake. If you decide to make the bacon cupcakes, they are best eaten IMMEDIATELY.
Sunday, August 24, 2008
iPhone picture, mount rainier... you are beautiful.
dude, McClellan Butte = HARD.
Friday, August 22, 2008
When word reached me that Grant was in desperate need of guest bloggers in order to insure the successful reaching of his fourth quarter profit estimates, I shared a knowing wink with Nugget, my trusty carrier pigeon and occasional backgammon opponent. "Surely that Mr. Laine will never change," Nugget said as he collected his standard fee of 10 seeds and flapped his way out the window, releasing his bowels on my azaleas below. I sighed heartily, for Grant, and for Nugget. No indeed, surely some things never do change.
Few of you may know this, but back when Grant started this blog in the late 1940's, I began my career working as Grant's assistant, and the world was a much different, and far more trying place back then. Hot pants weren't nearly as hot as they are today, one had to believe that it was butter because there was no alternative, and the perceived sensibility of the stovepipe hat appeared just that much larger in the rearview mirror of history. Oh Mr. Lincoln, what were you drinkin'?
It was in that decade's darkest hour that Grant first found himself in need of a guest blogger to continue posting his dietary habits while he went on what would be the first of several long retreats to the Galapagos islands, in order to commune with the giant sea turtles, one of which he believed at the time to be the reincarnated soul of Johann Georghehner, inventor of the hot dog. While I saw this opportunity as my first chance to really shine in the realm of letters, Grant quickly shot down the idea, attributing his denial of my dreams to lack of fortitude, though I suspected the truth to be that his decision was an admonishment of my questionable level of pulchritude. "Only the finest men alive today are fit to clod-hop the blogosphere in my magnanimous shoes," I remember him yelling at me from the bathroom.
Thus, it fell on my shoulders to lobby for the guest blogging services of the greatest, larger-than-life figures of that era, and I did so dutifully. The catch, of course, was that in order to solicit the services of these robust men, I had to pretend to be one of their kind as well, as no one of their stature would dream of reading a letter from simplefolk. I was crafty in my ways, and ingenious in my approach, and like the crafty and ingenious fox that fools the moronic and gaseous hound, I was able to convince everyone I wrote to send me a list of stuff they ate. They blogged like giants, they blogged like gentlemen, but most of all, they ignorantly accepted forged checks for their work, checks which somehow all managed to clear with the bank, thanks no doubt to the loose accounting practices of a one Mr. Howard Hughes.
Reminiscing about this forgotten moment in interweb history led me to take a stroll down memory lane in the direction of my filing cabinet, where for decades now I have kept copies of all my correspondence through and with Bac-Log. Among the letters I found, there was one that particularly struck a chord of nostalgia that rang like dinner bell throughout my ventricles. While I was unable to photocopy it, lest the too-fragile paper disintegrate upon its exposure to heat and light, I will dictate it here now for your enlightenment, in hopes that it will give you a greater understanding of Bac-Log, and the grandiose man behind it, the same man that Time Magazine called in its 1973 year-in-review issue, "the person who has shared more about the things that he has consumed in his life, through the medium of itemized lists, than any man, woman, or child now living or dead." It goes thusly:
February 12, 1945
Mr. Winston Churchill
10 Downing Street
Winnie, my man,
Some conference yesterday, eh? Yalta? More like Yawn-ta! And what was the deal with Frankie's cape-jacket thingy? Perhaps this is some manner of Western hemisphere cloakery that hasn't quite made it into the ration warehouses of my vast and magnificent nation yet. I loved your hat, by the way, very "now." We really should get together like that more often, but next time, how about Cabo?
So while I'm crushing your attention in my cold iron fist, I thought I would humbly ask for a favor. One of my best friends, Grant V. Laine, is in dire need of the services of a guest blogger while he is temporarily away from his most noblest of posts. This would require no more effort of you than to draw up an itemized list of all of the things that you have eaten on any particular recent day, and send that list to the following address (Bac-Log!, Attn: I. King, 88 8th St, Hoboken, NJ) where it will then be transmitted into the homes of millions for their awe and delight. You would be granting an honorable favor to me, and to the world.
Anywho, I gotta run. My wife, she is like the great Siberian bear, and grows more beautiful and ravenous by the moment, so I must now attend to her.
Your Comrade and Pal,
PS – Don't forget to include any desserts!
Hey, Me again! I'm bored! Just kidding! I was watching TV and the normal really weird Swedish commercials, so I thought I would do a special bac-log blog on the funny stuff I was watching (kind of like your retroactive stuff I ate segment, but without all the calories). But when I googled Swedish commercials, all I got was banned IKEA commercials, which I found equally amusing. Who knew IKEA was so inappropriate! So, in short, here are some links that you can chose to post or not post.
Banned IKEA Boner Commercial
IKEA Nanny Banned Commercial
Banned Ikea Commercial - Tidy Up
Speaking of which, I am pleased to announce that hundreds* of clever and alluring Bac-Log readers have already volunteered to pick up my slack and write some insightful Guest Blog posts. So far I have only actually seen one of these phantom guest nuggets, but I am sure that the rest will eventually show up and paralyze me with their brilliance.
[Tip to guest bloggers: don't think about it too hard. If I actually thought about what I was going to post before I started typing, this blog probably wouldn't even exist.]
Also, I should announce that I will probably begin referring to guest bloggers as "Bac-Jacks". I would explain why I came up with this but I am trying to do my part to conserve cyber-paper. As you know, Bac-Log is all about brevity.
Anyway, let's get some freaking Guest Blogs, people!
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Here is a graph of Bac-Log posts per month, with August prorated for the full month:
The right side of the graph is completely unacceptable. Please compare to this graph of target posts per month:
This volume increase may seem drastic, but I have determined by using, um, REALLY HARD MATH OKAY, that such aggressive growth is necessary to produce this schedule of projected income:
I think a good rule of thumb for burgeoning financial behemoths such as Bac-Log is to identify and focus on target customers to maximize profits. For example, I plan on generating the aforementioned income by focusing intently on the demographic of people who might have some extra change who are waiting at the stoplight to turn left on NW Dravus St. from 15th Ave NW, and who are easily discomfited by uncomfortable staring and inane babble. (Also I will have a kick-ass cardboard sign that reads "GOOBLES?")
ANYWAY, I guess what I'm trying to say here is that OH MAN AM I WAAAY BEHIND. I have actually been under a great deal of stress lately, both work related and of personal matters, and also I have been fighting a tenacious case of gastroenteritis for a week and a half now (hint: DON'T GET IT, IT SUCKS). This is why I have not been posting a whole lot. And probably why I will not be posting a whole lot in the near future.
I can hear your tears falling like tiny sad little catprints from a tiny sad little kitten that is sadly slouching away, who occasionally pauses and looks back, sadly, before turning and trudging on once more.
But seriously, people. It seems like the last few days have been me just walking down the street, minding my own business, and someone will come strutin' by, snapping their fingers and singing to themselves, and they'll stop me and be like, "Hey Bac-Log, what's shakin' bacon? Why haven't you posted recently", and I'll be like, "I have an infection in my intestines", and they'll be like, "but I'm bored, baby-- you need to give me more of that good stuff", and I'll be like, "but I'm in a great deal of pain", and they'll be like, "you know what's awesome? PIE", and then they will strut off, snapping and singing to themselves, into a psychedelic rainbow fur-lined sunset.
You are all that guy. ESPECIALLY YOU, COURTNEY.
Actually, to be completely honest for a split second, it always warms my heart when people mention that they are starved for the kind of non-FDA-approved brainfood that Bac-Log is always pleased to serve long past its expiration date. I am indeed extremely grateful for all of my loyal readers who enjoy this blog for some reason. So grateful in fact, that I am pleased to offer you all an AMAZING PRIZE!! And that prize is...
GETTING TO WRITE THE BLOG FOR ME!
Okay, not exactly, but close. For a limited time, I invite EVERYONE WHO CAN READ THIS to participate in the Bac-Log blogging experience as a guest blogger or open-topic creator! For serious, guys! If you would like to have a prestigious Guest Blog post, please send me an email with whatever it is you wish to be read by my clamoring fan base of at least 12 people. If your post requires pictures or formatting, we can discuss how to do this. Also, if you are not really keen on producing an entire post, why not suggest a topic of discussion or an idea for a poll or a link list or something in the comments? If it's awesome, I will implement your idea!
Come on, do it! Help me... help you. (By doing the work for me.)
Thank you, and have a wonderful day.
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
Speaking of creepy, what do people think of this picture that I modded up:
Personally, I just can't stop laughing. Is this wrong? Maybe I should lay off the candy canes and coffee for a while.
Anyway, I made an exciting NEW POLL on the sidebar that you should vote on (yes, that means you actually have to visit the blog, all you Google Reader users).
One day I am going to write an epic story about a dude who gets hopelessly lost in his own metaphors. I am going to call it "Bac-Log", and it will be disguised as a blog. The story ends with a self-referential aside in the middle of a baseball post. And everyone lives happily ever after. Also, there will be a list of all of the food that I ate this morning. And it will cleverly set up a franchise of successful sequels, including Miss Congeniality/Back to the Future cross-over fan fiction.
Anyway, here's a list of what I've eaten so far today:
10 candy canes
3 cups of coffee
The best baseball blog of all time was BatGirl, which is tragically now defunct due to the author popping out a kid. Probally the greatest contribution to society that Bat Girl made during her shining blogging years was introducing the concept of Nonsexual Man-Crushes (see here for ultimate NSMC victory) to the baseball-loving population. At long last, my confusing feelings for Danny Haren were legitimized!
Unfortunately, Danny Haren is now my estranged ex-mancrush because my friend Neil owns him in our super-intense fantasy baseball league, and I have diligently trained myself to hate all opposing players (with the exception of James Shields, who I find worthy of forbidden mancrush wuv, and also he looks sort of like Abe Lincoln. Hating James Shields is like hating America.) Every once in a while, Neil will rub it in that Danny Haren is with him now, and that really he has had his best years with him, and aren't I jealous? [ed note: I hate you, Neil]. The worst part of this whole thing is that Neil is totally mancrush cheating on Danny Haren by having a mancrush affair with Little Timmy Lincecum! You dog! This face is at least 10 years away from being able to grow the kind of rugged, untamed facial hair that Danny Haren was probably born with:
You are a sick old man, Neil.
Unlike some people (NEIL), I am mancrush-monogamous (well, with the exception of Abe Shields, but he's on Dr. Lorneypant's team, so it's like having a harmless crush on a movie star. DOESN'T COUNT.) My current mancrush is the studly closer for the KC Royals, Joakim Soria. In addition to being the badass-est pitcher EVER, with a pitch Kyle and I named "crazy loopy pitch", he also has the best nickname of all time, The Mexicutioner. Here is a poster for The Mexicutioner:
He is the best mancrush of all time. I wuv you, Joakim Soria. The Mexicutioner is totally repaying my wuv by propelling BattlestarGrantica to a tenuous perch atop the Northwest Drunken Fan League standings.
Take THAT, Neil.
Also, your dangerous mancrush love-triangle will probably be a major plot point in my forthcoming Miss Congeniality/Back to the Future cross-over fan fiction. I don't want to spoil the ending before I have a chance to actually write it, but you can expect to die pinned between a fashion runway and a steaming DeLorean in the year 2085 somewhere around page 3. Also, it will explore the alternate timeline in which I don't expose Danny Haren to the waiver-wire early in the 2006 season.
[ed note: that was some good blog trash-talking. reward yourself with another candy cane.]
[ed note: thanks, I will!]
UPDATE: also, my fan fiction will explore the possibility that Doc Brown and Captain Kirk's character in Miss Congeniality are long lost siblings!! Prepare for the Awesoming!
Friday, August 8, 2008
Dear sirs, please find enclosed (1) photograph documenting the creation of the new food known as the "hand taco" [or haco].
It cannot be doubted that millions of people have thought, "this taco is pretty great, but what would make it EVEN BETTER is if all of this crap was directly in my hand instead." Thanks to the legendary visionaries Vikram and BRG, the Architects Of Haco Greatness, the world can finally shed the restrictive shackles of shelldom and freely explore exciting new wells of untapped potential hitherto closed to those without bits of lettuce, feta, and chorizo on their hands, who then go and touch all my stuff.
In case you are interested, here is a closeup shot of BRG's haco containing lettuce, scrambled egg, basil, seasoned ground lamb, sundried tomato and grilled onion immediately prior to the installation of greek yogurt, feta, and olives:
ALSO, we made bacos, and they kicked ass. More about that later, but as a teaser behold these select reaction shots:
That is the post-baco glow everyone talks about and tries vainly to replicate with expensive personal care products. That is contentment.
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
This comic reminded me of this amazing video which documents google search query results for "biggest regret":
This video is a perfect representation of the class of ideas I like to call "Well, Crap, I'm Never Going To Top THAT One" Ideas. (Much like this t-shirt.) *Sigh*. Because the idea is regret-themed, my regret at not thinking of this first might seem sort of like a meta-regret, but I think meta-regret would require me to regret regretting something, which is not exactly the case. I think what we are looking at here is a pseudo-meta-regret, which is awesome because it fills a square in my latest match of Abstract Construct Solitaire BINGO. (The next square I need involves inventing a situation that would contextualize the concept of "post-handedness").
In case you are wondering, my biggest regret is not realizing that I accidentally stayed late at work today because I had to reset my computer clock in order to illegally extend the license on some expired software. Whoops! [ed note: Zing! I still can't believe that worked! Mwahaha!]
UPDATE: I just realized that the reason I was one hour late by resetting my computer date to 6 months ago is because of daylight savings time! This means that I finally get to reuse my "daylight savings time can suck it" label! Didn't really see that one coming!
Friday, August 1, 2008
I was going to break my blog-virginity and post my bacon news as a comment of the , but you are slacking a bit on the bacon-themed blogs as of late, and I didn't want to get lost in the oblivion that is past comments on past blogs. So anyways, to my point. While I was in Boston on Sunday night (I wasn't even supposed to be in Boston - I ended up there after a broken down car, towage, irish friend with a horrific sun burn, leaving vacation early, car accident, failed attempt at flea marketing, crashing on a couch to catch a bus from boston... so it was a long series of coincidences that led me to learning this). Anyways... I ramble and am still drinking my coffee. So, my friend's roommate and I somehow got on the discussion of bacon/sex/sign language, and I learned how to say both 'awkward' and 'bacon' in sign language. As you would think, the word awkward in really awkward to sign, but when you sign the phrase Awkward Bacon - well it's amazing. Here: Awkward Bacon. So after he and his friends figured out the amazingness of signing awkward bacon they decided it needed to be a meaningful phrase. They then determined that awkward bacon refers to that horrible hour or so after you wake up next to a one night stand or some other kind of drunken sex, and all you really want to do is go home and shower a few times but instead you are forced to pull through for a 'let's go out to breakfast before you leave' outing. that breakfast is awkward bacon.This story is great-- the prodigious use of "anyways", the rambling tone, leaving the reader wanting more...so good. Also, the signs truly are amazing, especially back-to-back. I don't have any video editing software at work, but I'm thinking that at some point putting these videos back-to-back, looping them, and adding an awkward soundtrack will be awesome. Here is an AVI file of the two videos spliced, but it needs some serious polish before we can begin using it to train for Awkward Bacon Dance Party 2008.