Friday, October 31, 2008

Prepare for the awesoming

Okay gang,

This is now my 6th attempt at deploying Bac-log Novel Idea Contest CHALLENGE 2008™. The other 5 attempts ended up not making any sense. THIS BODES WELL FOR MY NOVEL.

Here's the deal: NaNoWriMo starts tomorrow. I am going to write a 50,000 word novel in 30 days. This is going to be hard, but you've all seen my top-notch pointless rambling skillz. I think I can do this.

The primary reason that I am invoking the Bac-log Novel Idea Contest CHALLENGE 2008™ is because I am a junkie for reader participation and encouragement. However, I think the reason that I have had trouble getting it set up is that I'm not actually sure how Bac-log Novel Idea Contest CHALLENGE 2008™ should work. If I bribe you all for ideas with fabulous prizes, would you actually want to wade through 175 pages of crap to see me butcher your innocent and well-meaning gem of inspiration? Probably not. And what's the point of carefully crafting an amazing story idea when you don't get to see it implemented, and all you get from your effort is endless glory or ice cream or jumping high-fives?

So I think it's going to work like this: Throughout the entire month, If you have an idea that you think I would like, please leave it in the comments of this post and I will reward you with a homemade postcard featuring either a recipe or a haiku or a recipe in haiku form. (You may also email or tell me in person, but you will not get the postcard. SPECIAL OFFER: the postcard may also be used as a coupon for one free game of Monopoly with me and Kyle. You will be the banker. Kyle and I will be drunk. Starcraft may be substituted for Monopoly. If Kyle is not available, Vik may be substituted for Kyle. We could also play Yahtzee. You will provide the Yahtzee. Scrabble will not be tolerated).

Anyway, IF I decide to use your little pearl of idea-ness in some way in my story, I will also reward you with a Bac-Log Brand™ Original Recipe fabulous prize. Prize will be determined by a poll of Bac-Log readers. (With the exception of constantly subjecting you all to my inflexible and uncontested point of view, Bac-Log is all about democracy). IN ADDITION to the aforementioned fabulous prize, I will also post an excerpt or description of how your idea was used so that you may cuddle with the resulting glory.

What qualifies as an idea, you might ask? Well, check out this sparkling gem that Kevin Bacon just selflessly offered to the cause:
I once told someone to write me a story based around a guy who works in a photo place and develops photos all day long. You can have that one if you want.
Hahaha, I seriously have no idea why I find this so funny. THESE ARE HOW LOW MY STANDARDS ARE. Here are some more ideas that I am going to make up on the spot to make you feel better about your own:
  • Time traveling coffee cup finds love
  • Time traveling toaster finds love
  • Title: Dr Awesome's False Advertising Lawsuit
  • Time traveling Barry Manilow finds Mani-love
  • Somebody trips a lot
  • Everyone is a robot except for one guy!!!!
  • Can your story have unicorns or ferrets pls? thanx
  • Every character is a mystery-solving butler
  • Sexy international super-spies have a wacky house party and someone dies and they have to pretend they are still alive to win a large inheritance and also there is a talking dog.
  • Jane Austin fan fiction
  • Jane Austin fan fiction but everyone is a robot except for one guy!!!
  • Sexy lazy blogger reveals himself as a superhero and fights crime and solves mysteries and throws crazy house parties.
  • Time traveling food processor finds love.
  • A list of the last 50,000 things I ate.
  • Maintenance program engineer for major aerospace and defense corporation that rhymes exactly with "Boeing" uses his knowledge of airplane maintenance programs and fancy tea to solve mysteries.
  • It is the 80s and the story takes place entirely on yachts.
You guys can do better than that! (And you will, or I will keep bugging you). GET TO IT.

Please?

Thursday, October 30, 2008

Premium Quality Cornhole Bags.

Hey, it's been a while since I've had a good Gmail sponsored link. Gmail's ad engines must be getting more efficient.
Cornhole Bags $19.99/Set. - www.CornHoleShop.com - Premium Quality Cornhole Bags. Ready to Ship. Low price year round
Am I the only person who knows exactly one definition of "cornhole"? I don't think I am going to click on this link at work.

UPDATE: Here is some new information:
  • My friend Laurel of Penguinbot fame (GO BUY STUFF THERE) informs me that in addition to cornhole bags, you can also get cornhole caddies.
  • Courtney says cornholing is fun.
  • Kyle says they cornhole on the streets in Chicago.

Monday, October 20, 2008

Bac-log: the novel


Hey, guess what month it is? [NO CHEATING, OK]

If you said "October", you get partial credit for being technically correct. If you said "whatever month is before November", you also get partial credit. If you said "August", you get partial credit for guessing what month I thought it was when I filled out my time card this morning. If you said "I'm hungry", you get partial credit for correctly identifying a basic human survival need. If you tried to figure out the answer by looking at the sun's relative position in the sky and arrived at "either Spring or early afternoon", you get partial credit for probably being either Jason or Kyle. If you said "almost NANOWRIMO, why?", you get full credit for the NaNoWriMo part, extra credit for identifying it as "almost", but then you lose the extra credit by being cocky. Nobody likes a showoff.

So anyways, National Novel Writing Month approacheth, and surfing on the crest of this incoming wave of destructively bad writing rides some of my very own Bac-Log Brand Extra-Strength Inane Babble™. That's right: 50,000 words of incomprehensible and poorly structured "writing" is haphazardously carving a swath of destruction from the future toward the present.

I first heard about this whole NaNoWriMo thing last year and made a quarter-ass effort to jump into the fray a week or two late [hint: not a good plan]. I seem to recall making it to about 2,000 words before realizing that my no-plot approach was, um, not getting anywhere (GO FIGURE). 2,000 words out of 50,000 is like defiantly throwing rocks at an approaching tank, except that I'm pretty sure there actually was no tank (I should check the FAQs again to make sure). So anyway, in retrospect I guess I just threw some rocks around and they are probably still lying around somewhere if someone wants to do some landscaping or something. POINT IS: I don't think I did it right.

At this point you are probably experiencing a creeping dread and nervously thinking, "oh geez, I knew this day would come eventually; Grant is going to make me proofread his novel." DO NOT WORRY-- before you try to tell me there was static in the internet or your cat ate the blog just think about one thing: if I really wanted to subject you to 50,000 words of pointless gibberish I would just start a blog called "Bac-log!" and you would be reading it right now.

Oh no, I do not expect anyone to actually consume the gelatinous word sausage that will be squeezed out of my braintubes into casings of literary intestine any more than I would expect someone to ride a roller coaster built by some guy who is "90% sure" he knows what a hammer is. Unless, of course, you actually want to (really? Eww). My purpose in pestering you today is to merely ask for a little bit of encouragement. Encouragement, and, um, maybe some novel ideas.

The encouragement part should be easy: Next time you see me, simply ask, "Hey Bac-log! How's that novel coming?" And I will be like, "it's going awesome, thank you for your asking-ness," and then we will exchange jumping high-fives and I will try to get you to buy me a beer. You see, in addition to being a valuable addition to our standard Fonzie-thumbs-up-gesture-followed-by-exploding-fist-jab greeting, the constant clamoring for updates will also give me reason to actually write the stupid novel.

The idea part is exactly like the encouragement part except with slightly less passive questioning and slightly more high-fiving, and also a lot more ideas. Now, I'm not asking for a full plot synopsis or a well-organized outline or anything so comprehensive (I can do that part, since, you know, I am the one writing the novel.) I am merely hoping to dig through some post-brainstorm debris, or riffle through scraps of characters or settings or inconsequential anecdotes or throw-away conversations to see if I can score anything valuable enough to sell back to the idea pawn shop for some idea booze money.

To grease the wheels (BREAKING NEWS: Bac-log's knock-off version of "grease the wheels" will now be called "wease the greels", because it sounds hilarious when you accidentally say it out loud at work).

Anyway, to wease the greels, brace yourselves for the incoming Bac-log Novel Idea Contest CHALLENGE 2008™! You know the drill: Prizes will be fabulous. Contest judging will be openly questioned. Tempers will flare. Friends will be made into enemies. Enemies will be made into friends. Friends will be made into slightly better friends. Bystanders will be made into loose acquaintances. Dogs and cats will live together. Problems will be solved. Problems might not be solved and we'll just agree to ignore them. Deadlines will be missed. Tears. Heroes will be made. Hands will be clapped. Rainbows will lead to magical unicorns instead of pots of gold and you guys will probably complain. Maybe the unicorns took it, OK? Geez. Nonsense will be made. However, this does not necessarily mean no nonsense will not be made. Metaphors will get lost in. Prepositions will be used to end sentences with. Sentence fragments. Ice cream.

(You know, standard Bac-log operating procedure.)

Thank you for your time and encouragement in advance! Stay tuned!

Thursday, October 16, 2008

Kevin Bacon correspondence report

Check out this card I got from Kevin Bacon:


Ba-dum-CHING! But seriously, why would the "good ones" be bacon? In this hypothetical society in which pigs are able to enjoy fine dining and afford prescription eyewear, why would having your fatty underside become strips of delicious meat to be eaten by others be seen as a desireable attribute in a partner? Also: why are the male pigs naked? I am going to go ahead and click "unsubscribe" on this society's newsletter.

The human equivalent of this card would be pretty funny though: Two ladies are sitting at a tiny table in a very spacious and gaudy restaurant, surrounded by naked men. One lady complains to her friend, "I just can't find a man." Her friend replies, "yeah, all the good ones harvested for food. I don't have much hope for the continuance of our civilization."

Anyway, suppose you are taking a literal interpretation of this tome of knowledge and suddenly feel insecure about your qualifications as a mate. DO NOT WORRY! Kevin Bacon has included a blueprint of a practical solution to your horrible "I am not bacon" problem (you will probably need to click on the picture to enlarge):

Of course!!! By wearing this stylish garb you essentially become bacon! Also, please note Kevin Bacon's excellent attention to detail and nod your head approvingly.

By introducing a problem that no one knew they had and then offering a solution that involves making a bacon suit, I feel Kevin Bacon deserves some points. Here is a breakdown of the point distribution:
  • Olive buttons: .25 points
  • Bacon Fedora: .5 points
  • Apollo 13: .5 points
  • "elegant yet breathable summer-weight suit": .5 points
  • Vest to compensate for the inherent lack of precision of the material: .75 points
TOTAL: 2.5 points

You might think 2.5 points seems cheap, but I prefer to think of my miserly point distributions as "frugal and responsible". In case you are interested, here are the updated scores:

BRG: 1225 points
Chester Copperpot: 5 points
Kevin Bacon: 2.5 points
[other people]: 0-10 points
Kyle: -5 points

Good job, everyone! Keep up the good work.

Friday, October 10, 2008

DQ Dead Zone™

Okay, remember that part in the legendary cinematic masterpiece Tomb Raider in which the gang is journeying to the arctic circle for some reason, and they enter a mysterious "dead zone" which inexplicably makes their vehicles and cellphones and handheld gaming devices cease to work, and also makes that one geeky dude whose sole purpose was that he had a laptop completely superfluous?

Either way, check out this map of Dairy Queen locations around Seattle:

[dqdeadzone.jpg]

If you and your rag-tag team of scantily-clad, death-defying adventurers were thinking about hunting for mysterious Illuminati relics in Ballard, be warned that entering the DQ Dead Zone™ will render your Blizzards and Peanut Buster Parfaits inoperable.

I first witnessed this stunning natural phenomenon several years ago when Admiral Heenkypants, BRG, and I undertook a long and dangerous mission to achieve $1 Blizzards. Despite our universal belief that we'd seen various Dairy Queens around town, we ended up all the way out in Woodinville before we could finally enjoy our invertible cups of frosty delight at special promotional prices.

This knowledge came in handy after Jason and I achieved ultimate revenge upon McClellan Butte a month or so ago, when on our way home Jason decided that he had a Blizzard-shaped hole in his tummy that needed to be appropriately and immediately filled. Fortunately, we had not yet breached the DQ Seattle Perimeter, an ancient defense designed to distract advancing invaders with delicous frozen treats, thus buying time for Seattle residents to escape to Bainbridge Island by riding on the backs of seals (city planning used to be much more comprehensive than it is now).

Anyway, I bring this up to let you all know that I finally distributed Taco's haiku prize ice cream the other day, so you can all finally sleep at night. However, if you are jumping to the conclusion that I must have taken him to Dairy Queen, you're wrong (the riveting Dairy Queen tale was just a diversion). We went to Molly Moons in Wallingford and got ourselves some delicious waffle cones. Taco tried to get them to put a sundae in the cone, but this was just too much to ask of the poor high schoolers toiling away in the middle-class salt mines of the service industry. I got salted caramel. It was delicious.

The end.

Wednesday, October 8, 2008

oh yeah... blogging

If you are wondering why I haven't posted anything since last Wednesday it is probably because of something you did. Way to ruin it for everyone.

Also I forgot.

But don't worry-- here is the exhaustive list of what happened in the last week:
  • I ate a whole bunch of borscht.
Blogging is hard*.

You know what I think Bac-log needs right now (besides content)? Another contest! Everyone put your thinking hats and thinking scarves and thinking fingerless gloves on, because I feel a Contest Idea Contest coming on!

*super hard

Wednesday, October 1, 2008

Wednesday

100108rug.jpg

This is where I thoughtfully rub my chin and nod with pretend understanding, then go home and cry in shame for not comprehending these important high-brow questions. Could I at least get the answers as multiple choice? I fear that I have no hope of ever entering this particular intellectual caste.

Also, urbandictionary's translation of "rugs on carpet" only creates more questions.

Tuesday, September 30, 2008

today's scores

Grape Jolly Rancher 1, Grant's teeth 0

As a premeditated example of delicious misplaced revenge, I am planning to take my humiliation out on some poor, unsuspecting Pho later.

UPDATE: I heard once that it takes around 20 minutes to recognize that you are full. It's only been 5 minutes, but I'm going to guess that the victory licorice I had after the giant bowl of Pho was probably unnecessary.

Thursday, September 25, 2008

Baco 2.0

Here is a list of things you were wrong about today:
  1. Thinking there is nothing better than the original baco.
  2. Thinking, "I bet nobody is going to call me out on a blog for being wrong about something today."
But don't feel bad; we're all wrong sometimes. Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you THE BACO 2.0 EXPERIENCE:



Those bacon rays that your eyes just hungrily slurped off of your computer screen are but a tiny slice of the glory that is the Baco 2.0 Experience.

Okay, so these bacos were actually made, like, years ago [ed note: 2 months ago]. I posted about the "haco" a day or two later with the intention of creating a heaving sea of baco demand into which I would hurl these salty morsels of awesomeness to be devoured in a frenzy of orgasmic delight, but in a spectacular display of Dramatic Buildup FAIL, I totally forgot. [INSERT SAD EMOTICON OF YOUR CHOICE HERE]. This is the baco-blogging equivalent of waiting behind a couch to jump out and scare your roommate when they get home, but then accidentally falling asleep, and then freaking out when they wake you up to ask why you are sleeping behind the couch and if you intend on paying rent at some point. Sort of.

Anyway, here is a note on baco pronunciation:
baco ba·co [bah-koh]
noun
Success embodied and carved into a convenient hand-sized package of glory.
See, it's not "bake-o", it is "bah-koh", got it? You know, like a taco. A taco BUT WITH A BACON SHELL! Here is a rhyme you may use to help you with this pronounciation: "Crumble crumble little taco, don't you wish you were a baco?" Also you may use this classic: "One, two, buckle my taco/ three, four, give me a baco."

Anyway, as you probably all know, Baco 1.0 was an exciting journey into the wide and uncharted frontiers of baconspace, and resulted in unexpected but well-deserved success. Team Baco 2.0 applied the knowledge and experience gleaned from this adventure and sought to refine and improve the baco, specifically by putting other kinds of awesome crap in it.

Baco 1.0 was a simple affair: Iceberg lettuce, crumbled blue cheese, and more bacon. A logical next step was some sort of Breakfast Baco-- a hat-tip, if you will, to the traditional morning role of bacon. But beyond that was a limitless expanse of possibility, like an untouched field of fresh snow, just asking for you to mess it up by running through it. I was a little overwhelmed, so I asked my friend Hillary of haiku judging fame for advice. You will meet the gifted and well-behaved children of our brainstorms below, but first I suppose I should offer a quick primer of the baco process:

Step 1: Gather bacon and other ingredients:



Step 2:
Weave a mat of bacon and dreams:



Step 3:
Cut the mat into a circle (this is an optional but recommended step for larger bacos):



Step 4:
Drape the bacon mat (the "Proto-Baco") over stainless steel baco mold:



Step 5:
Bake. Remove from oven. Let cool. You are an artist, and this is your canvas:



But what do you put in the baco? Here are some Baco 2.0 Experience recipe suggestions, carefully engineered and tested for your enjoyment:

The Breakfast Baco (pictured above, but here it is again):

Ingredients:
Maple-bacon Baco shell
Creamy scrambled egg
Basil
Sun-dried tomato
Mozzerella
Bacon

The Greek Baco (with blur-tastic photo! Bacos make even light greasy):

Ingredients:
Baco shell
Seasoned ground lamb
cucumber
Assorted olives
Feta cheese
Sun-dried tomato
Greek yogurt

The Caprese Baco (with unfortunate baco shell structural failure):

Ingredients:
Baco shell
Mozzerella
Tomato
Olive oil
Basil

Rosemary Baco (not pictured. GASP!):
Ingredients:
Baco shell
Chorizo sausage
Rosemary sprigs
Brie

Can I get a drumroll, please? It needs to be the most epic of all drumrolls. The prophesy speaks of a Chosen Drumroll: A lone drumroll born amidst a galestorm of anticipation and raised by a pack of lightning bolts, who will one day come forth blazing across a snare carved from the inaccessible peaks of excitement, heralding the coming of all excellence. It is time for the prophesy to be fulfulled:

THE ULTIMATE BACO:


Ingredients:
Pepper-bacon Baco shell
Lettuce
Scrambled egg
Seasoned ground lamb
Greek yogurt
Basil
Feta cheese
Sun-dried tomato
Mozzarella
Watermelon (yes, for reals. We pull no punches.)
Cucumber
Crumbled blue cheese
Pepperoncini
Grilled onion
Rosemary
Olives
Brie
Blue cheese salad dressing
Chorizo sausage
More bacon

PRODUCT: Ultimate Baco.
REVIEW: Ultimate Awesome.

If you thirst for more photos of Bacosploitation, here are some more: [link to Baco 2.0 Album]. If you are still thirsty after you have viewed the photos it is probably because of all of the salt your eyes just absorbed, and you should probably grab a drink.

You are welcome.

Wednesday, September 24, 2008

is it really only wednesday?

Okay, so a haggard and foul-smelling homogeneous chemical mixture stumbles into a bar and tries to order a drink. The bartender, sensing that this homogeneous chemical mixture is obviously already intoxicated, throws it out so as to not offend the other patrons. After witnessing this incident, an attractive and well-dressed homogeneous chemical mixture who has been sitting at the bar leans over to her friend and says, "Whew, I'd sure rather be part of the problem than part of that solution!"

You see, it's funny because solution can mean two different things.

[awkward silence] [uncomfortable fidgeting] [looks at watch]

No? Well, how about this instead:bread72508.jpg

Look! It's a pair of adorable little toasties! With little pats of butter! AWWW! And the product placement makes the box look like it says "butt".

Is that better?

Tuesday, September 23, 2008

DO NOT BE ALARMED

Okay, take a deep breath and, if possible, tightly hold the hand of someone you love.

Are you ready?

Guys, it turns out there were five mistakes in the movie Back To The Future!



But don't worry- these mistakes do not undermine this sacred movie's fundamental pillars of truth that we have built our entire society upon, namely TIME TRAVEL BY GOING 88MPH IN A DELOREAN and SLOWLY DISSOLVING HANDS and CRISPIN GLOVER and TIME TRAVEL BY GOING 88MPH IN A DELOREAN.

Plus I already have a plan for how to explain these minor flaws in my Miss Congeniality/Back To The Future cross-over fan fiction:

1. Darth Vader's hairdryer disappears because it is actually a hairdryer from 1988 that Doc Brown left in the DeLorean for some reason (read: shameless vanity), and since Marty's unrepentant and irresponsible meddling with the space-time continuum is threatening that future, the hairdryer dissolves (off camera) just like his brother's head in the photograph. Maybe Marty, in addition to screwing up his future family by being all hunky in front of his mom, also somehow screws up the lives of those eventually responsible for manufacturing this important future hairdryer.

2. The speaker vanishes because it is actually a speaker from 1988... [okay, you know how this part goes now]... and the sign rotates because it cleverly conceals a spy periscope used by the drivers of the car, who happen to be the Iranian terrorists from 1988 who are hunting down Marty in the past after ramming their VW van into the time-traveling shack. Intrigue!

3. Candy jar empties because the candy is actually from the past, and that past is threatened by the fact that Marty will soon be visiting it, and so it dissolves, and also Crispin Glover (who will be named "Crisper Glovin" in my fiction) was probably responsible for filling the candy vessel, and that dude is weird. I bet that candy had all sorts of creepy Crispin magic.

4. The gauges and needles on the dashboard changed because past Doc Brown works part time for an automotive accessories store called Olde Automobile Zone to support his mad sciencing and he gets a sweet discount on aftermarket needles and gauges.

5. The subtle change in appearance of Doc Brown while he is driving the time-traveling DeLorean is due to the fact that in addition to being an ageless, time-traveling mad scientist, he is also a shape-shifter. He uses this skill to fight crime. This is really not that big of stretch, relatively.

Bonus. This one is pretty obvious, but I guess I'll spell it out for the sake of completeness. Doc Brown's dog Einstein is actually zombie Einstein in a dog suit which he uses to avoid detection as he runs from tax collectors and a tenacious small-town sheriff who keeps foiling his zombie scientist plots, and also to bide his him until he can use the time-traveling DeLorean to travel to a distant future era in which zombie scientists are more like zombie gods, worshiped and adored by the descendants of man, their robots, and their robot's man-like bio-bots.

See! It turns out everything is okay after all. You are welcome.

[via]

Monday, September 22, 2008

NEW FEATURE: misuse of blog

People:

Anyone want to go see tonight's Mariners game against the hated division rivals, the Los Angeles California Angels of Anaheim California, a game that has absolutely zero impact or importance? I have an extra ticket because Patron Saint has to work late or something.

Pros:
  • getting to hang out with Me, BRG, and Rachel
  • awesome seats right behind the visitor's dugout, so we can yell stuff at the opposing players
  • you will get to learn all about our fantasy baseball league (exciting!!) because BRG and I are duking it out for the top spot, and also the starting pitcher for the Angels is on my team.
  • Because of this you will probably learn all sorts of new words and phrases that you can feel free to use at home and work.
  • free!
Cons:
  • how about you read the Pros again. THERE ARE NO CONS HERE
Let me know! Game starts at 7. We will be pre-drinking at Hooverville. YOU DON'T WANT TO MISS THIS!! [hint: this is true]

UPDATE: File this under "Pros": I will also regale you with the scintillating tale of the real-life hobo that I met on Saturday while he was looking for the trainyard! [disclaimer: Vik, Kyle S, and Lisa were not nearly as impressed by this tale as I thought they should be, but maybe it's because they were just jealous]

I was getting more bacon

Guess what, gang! [dramatic pause for answer] It's Monday! [awkward silence]

Okay, so this:



What? Is this a reference from a movie or a TV show or a video game or the back of a cereal box or something? I am torn between a desire for understanding at the cost of potential disappointment and the desire to stubbornly remain blissfully confused by such immaculate randomness.

Also, here is a haiku by my friend Laura Kate (with official Bac-Log haiku formatting):

XVIII

my heart hurts so much
but my belly is smiling
bacon forever

Laura: does this glory come in the mail? Will I be receiving it in an envelope?
Me: glory comes in an envelope sealed with magnificence
Laura: meaning bacon?
Me: if it is bacon-related glory, then yes
Laura: so when I receive my bacon-sealed envelope in the mail, I will know that it is my glory
Me: yes
  but also glory can be distributed straight to your heart
Laura: through more bacon?
Me: hahahaha, yes
Laura: I love bacon

Friday, September 19, 2008

miracles are all around us, and also the positive effects of pirates

Jason: what the name of the ice sport with ninjas and pirates?
Me: broomball

(What was the world like in the dark days before gmail recorded our conversations for posterity?)

Okay, so if you have been on or around the internet today, or knows someone who has, or even knows what the internet is, or is human, or even casually knows a human, or exists at least partially in three dimensions, you have heard that today is Talk Like A Pirate Day. For many people this is a cause of great celebration and mirth and excitement, apparently because they need this as an excuse to talk like a pirate. If you have to find time to talk like a pirate, and this only happens once a year, maybe you need to rethink your priorities.

A much better day would be Act Like A Pirate Day (With Pirate Speech And Dress Optional), provided that this day came with some sort of liability protection. As in, maybe you get two free pillages without legal repercussion.

Anyway, regardless of your thoughts about perceived relevance and specific application of Talk Like A Pirate Day, I think it's important to remember what Talk Like A Pirate Day is really all about, and that's family. Family, and also buried treasure. Also it is about being able to recognize Talk Like A Pirate Day miracles, and use these miracles to strengthen your Talk Like A Pirate Day faith.

Talk Like A Pirate Day miracles are all around us! For example, if your breakfast did not suddenly dissolve into space like it was in the transporter on Star Trek, that was no coincidence! That was a Talk Like A Pirate Day miracle! And if your computer at work didn't burst spontaneously into bright green flames, that was also a Talk Like A Pirate Day miracle! And if you saw an extra little twinkle in the eye of your adorable barista today as they served you your half-caf double-tall 190° vanilla soy latte with extra foam, that was a Talk Like A Pirate Day miracle and also burgeoning love! Talk Like A Pirate Day miracles often lead to love, but unfortunately they also occasionally lead to cancer.

My Talk Like A Pirate Day miracle was truly incredible. You see, my Mom sent me an email on Tuesday to remind me of Talk Like A Pirate Day, which was very courteous as it allowed me plenty of time for last-minute Talk Like A Pirate Day gifts and to hide Talk Like A Pirate Day colored eggs and to make reservations for a romantic dinner for my Talk Like A Pirate Day-tine and to carve my Talk Like A Pirate Day-O-Lantern and to prepare a turkey for the Talk Like A Pirate Day ceremonious dinner which celebrates the historic feast between the newcome and ill-prepared pirates and the merchant sailors whose wares they would eventually steal.

I opened my calendar to enter this important date when I discovered that it was already there! Somehow the divine influence of Talk Like A Pirate Day saw fit to include Talk Like A Pirate Day in my calendar as an "all-day event" with reminders set to both 1 and 2 days before! This is truly the 2nd greatest Talk Like A Pirate Day miracle off all time, behind only the bearded and reindeer-drawn Talk Like A Pirate Day diety rising from death three days after discovering fireworks and the American continent just in time to remember the veterans of past wars!

Talk Like A Pirate Day also affords us an opportunity to consider how important yet unsung is the role of the pirate, who makes sure that not too much gold stays above ground for too long, so it wont become a tripping hazard. I will leave you now with the symbolic Talk Like A Pirate Day Rune of Responsible Recycling:

Thursday, September 18, 2008

[guest post] OUTDONEREDER

Ladies and Gentlemen (but mostly ladies), be herein entreated to the long-anticipated followup guest post by Ian F. King, who makes the rest of my blog look like crap (THANKS FOR NOTHING, DUDE*).

*actually, thanks for letting me crash with you in New York so often.

UPDATE: Ian: "you can discuss in an intro how much I badgered you into running my post!"

also:

Ian: "I want to collect all the glory that awaits me"

also:

Ian: "why are you stalling?"

also:

Ian: "
I want glory"

also:

Ian: "No one reads the internet on the weekend!"


Not too long after my recent entreaty to the Bac-Log faithful to join me in reliving one of the innumerable highlights in its rich and storied history, the letters began to trickle in, and then that trickle grew into a light pour, which has in the last half of a fortnight threatened to turn into a slightly heavier pour. These letters all say the exact same thing:

"Good Sir," they begin, "I hesitate to bring pause to the various important comings and goings of your busy days, but in my enrapt engagement with your recent guest post on what is indubitably the most important blog in the history of time, I couldn't help but be persnickety enough to notice one incredibly minor and completely irrelevant discrepancy between your recounting of the 20th century, and what certain highly questionable scholars might call 'the truth.' To wit, the ill-conceived butter substitute known as margarine was first brought to the general public quite some time before the 1940's, and not afterwards as you suggested. Please forgive my impulsive decision to encroach upon you with this concern, but I believed it to be something that needed to be brought to your attention. Yours sincerely, So & So."

It continued like this until my whimsical yet dutiful carrier pigeon Nugget spoke up one morning as he was making his delivery rounds. "Surely you must settle this matter once and for all, lest my letter satchel continue to overflow," he reasoned. Nugget was toeing the line of insubordination, but he did have a valid point, though I didn't hear him complaining about all the seeds he was collecting from me in fees - so much so that I decided it would be easier to simply leave a small dish of his fees suspended from a low branch on the oak tree outside my window, in a container shaped like a small house, as I knew that was his favorite shape.

"If you would only enlighten the people, they will greatly appreciate it," Nugget said, flapping his way off my windowsill, and it is in the hopes of forging an understanding in your minds that I will now make an admission I have heretofore been loathe to make: margarine was indeed available in the 1940's, and long before, but I have in the past refused to acknowledge its existence, as I will continue to do so, until Saint Peter drags me to my watery grave in the sky.

What I'm writing here is of course no revelation, as anyone with more than a fourth grade education is well aware that in 1869, Emperor Louis Napoleon III of France offered a prize to anyone who could make a satisfactory substitute for butter, suitable for use by the armed forces and lower classes. French chemist Hippolyte Mège-Mouriés invented a substance he called oleomargarine, and, as they say, the rest is terrible, terrible history. What monsieur Mege-Mouries didn't know was that his "prize" would be a permanent shackling in the foulest dungeon available in Paris at the time, where he spent the remainder of his days with his head clamped in an iron mask, having ample time to think about the abomination he had so wittingly wrought on the world.

How it came to pass that margarine has since stood the test of time and advances of civilization is quite beyond comprehension, and I've tried to give it no thought, as has Bac-Log's benevolent founder, Mr. Grant V. Laine. Indeed, the guiding force behind margarine stands diametrically opposed to one of the very principles that we formed this blog on, as certainly no foodstuff that was brought forth at the behest of a leader whose very name is synonymous with the inferiority complex is fit to take space on the refrigerator shelves of true and valorous men.

I beseech you, why would one slather their morning toast in an oil-based substitute for insecurity? Would you fill your delicious Sunday pie with apples that clearly lacked an inner strength and confidence? Would you cram your holiday turkey so full of cowardly stuffing that by the time you were able to coax it out of the oven it would be far too dry to savor? As one of the original battle-cries from the very mission statement that Bac-Log was founded on states: "Spread not the unnamable and insecure butter substitute on your daily bread, but the bold and brazen brazenberry jam. If brazenberry jam is not available, use boysenberry."

Though the much sought-after brazenberry went extinct in the late 50's, along with the equally delicious belching-fish, every other word on that original Bac-Log charter is as relevant today as it was when it was drafted on a series of now-historical napkins in the backroom of an alehouse in Hoboken that both Grant and I lived above, in an old tenement apartment that we would re-christen that very next morning as Bac-Log Gustatory and Ingestatory Documentation Partners LLC, turning a fine and upstanding young gentlemen bachelor's residence into an even finer and even more upstanding blogeteria.

Doing one better than even that other most glorious and empowering of documents, the Magna Carta Liberatum, in a single spirited sitting the two of us drew up our own call to arms, a series of laws to love and rules to live by, principles that would guide us all through the moral, philosophical, and actual wildernesses of the modern world. The Mangia Charta Degustatum, as it was later dubbed by the leading culinary scholars of the late 1970's, now rests behind inches of weather-proof glass, in one of the most prominent storage rooms in the vast Smithsonian institute.

Fueled by our own reciprocal largesse of inspiration, and bowl after bowl of peanuts that were as salty as Lot's wife, we compiled a list of commandments that numbered into the dozens. After reluctantly striking through all of the newly-minted lines that were highly amusing descriptions of the innkeeper's buxom daughter, we were left with nothing less than the eight principles that have seen me through my darkest hours and proudest moments, and, much more importantly, have helped to make Grant V. Laine the statuesque demi-god of the blogosphere that he is.

For those who have yet to lay their virgin eyes upon the glorious sunburst of knowledge that is the Mangia Charta, which is located on the "About Us" page (link here), I'll now reprint that entire document here from memory, as it is as fresh in my mind today as it was that wondrous night:

The Fifteenth of August, in the Annum Nineteen Hundred and Forty Three, Brings About To The Attention Of The General Public Of These United States This Order of Business Of The Utmost Importance: A new blog (tentative title: "Captain Eats-A-Bunch's Plenty O' Thoughts")

STATEMENT OF INTENT:

In Our Wholly Justified and Unquestionable Wisdom, We Hereby Declare That,

1. To eat is human, to devour is divine,

2. To improve the condition of any single object, wrap in a layer of bacon,

3. (note to self: look into a way of possibly combining breakfast and lunch, with an emphasis on egg-based dishes)

4. Red meat is the other white meat,

5. He who forgets the past is doomed to relive it, so make sure to write down even the stuff you ate that you didn't like to eat,

6. Spread not the unnamable and insecure butter substitute on your daily bread, but the bold and brazen brazenberry jam. If brazenberry jam is not available, use boysenberry.

7. Of all the world's vegetables, nothing beats a ripe and firm tomato, one as plump and comely as Bess, the innkeeper's daughter,

8. (TK)

Witnesseth On This Glorious Day, Signed,

Grant V. Laine

His Humble Assistant