In response to my last blog, I received a particularly scathing message from a friend of mine, informing me in no uncertain terms that SOME cars are worthy of being named, and that my car was henceforth to be referred to as Frank the car.
Frank has seen better days, to put it bluntly. The clicker (locking-unlocking McJigger) split in half irreparably well over 2 years ago, and the drivers-side door is the only one that opens using the key. Electronically, Frank is a mess; The right turn signal is as reliable as a hot air balloon made of toilet paper, the windshield wipers change speeds faster than a 5 year old with ADD, and turning on the heat or air kills the engine like I dropped an anchor.
Every once in a while, I forget that I hate trying new foods, and instead of getting delicious buffalo style chicken strips, I pick out something different. I was in one of these dangerous and unfortunate moods the other day while working at safeway, and instead of getting my regular snack of a banana, a doughnut and a cup of yogurt, I got... a BROWN banana, a doughnut and a cup of yogurt.
Not only are brown bananas smaller and more expensive than their yellow-peeled cousins, the taste and texture is akin to coffee grounds mixed with dirt. In any case, I learned my lesson: from here on out its chicken slathered in hot sauce and pizza of all varieties.
Did you know that buffalo are officially twice as bad-ass as lions? the official numbers aren't in yet, but the proof is here
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LU8DDYz68kM
It starts a little slow, but picks up at 2 min. Then again at 3:40. then again at 5:40.
Can you think of any other creature (save for the noble sloth of course) that could get mauled by lions, then became the rope in a game of tug-of-war with a crocodile, and just WALK THE F*** away?!?! Bad. Ass. Mudder.
Badbass baby buffalos aside, this next critter wins the "jaw droppingly awesomesauce award"
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m9EidKdpQAY
Until next time!
Saturday, April 30, 2011
Namae wa?
What is the motivation behind naming things that should not be named? I'm not talking harry-potter he-who-must-not-be-named crap here either. I'd rather not talk about the disgusting habit of girls naming their lady-bits, and guys naming their junk, other to mention that it is revolting and abominable.
(quick side note, on the recommendation of a (supposedly) wise friend of mine, I am watching the anime "Fruits Basket" while I write this. I've come to the conclusion that the larger a characters eyes, the more attractive the character is supposed to be. For ex; the main characters eyes take up well over 60% of her face. she must be a stone cold fox)
I can understand why boats/ships need names. I can even understand why it is completely necessary to name weapons. All the important weapons have names, "Glamdring", "Biggoron Sword", "Exaclibur" and so on. If Arthur had just received "sword" from the lady of the lake... well, it just makes for a lame story.
Cars, however, do NOT need to be named. I know quite a few people who name their vehicles, and it just makes NO sense! FAR less sense than naming your nasty bits, because at least those are with you for life (hopefully). Why go to all the trouble of naming something only to have it break down on you and have to be retired? (and don't mention pets please, thats like comparing apples and oranges, only the oranges are made of thumbtacs)
Speaking of breaking down... my car has seen better days. More on this later. And on the zoo, I 'spose.
(quick side note, on the recommendation of a (supposedly) wise friend of mine, I am watching the anime "Fruits Basket" while I write this. I've come to the conclusion that the larger a characters eyes, the more attractive the character is supposed to be. For ex; the main characters eyes take up well over 60% of her face. she must be a stone cold fox)
I can understand why boats/ships need names. I can even understand why it is completely necessary to name weapons. All the important weapons have names, "Glamdring", "Biggoron Sword", "Exaclibur" and so on. If Arthur had just received "sword" from the lady of the lake... well, it just makes for a lame story.
Cars, however, do NOT need to be named. I know quite a few people who name their vehicles, and it just makes NO sense! FAR less sense than naming your nasty bits, because at least those are with you for life (hopefully). Why go to all the trouble of naming something only to have it break down on you and have to be retired? (and don't mention pets please, thats like comparing apples and oranges, only the oranges are made of thumbtacs)
Speaking of breaking down... my car has seen better days. More on this later. And on the zoo, I 'spose.
Friday, April 22, 2011
Stuff, part deux
I've worked at safeway for close to 9 months now, and I've spent a significant amount of that time working at customer service. This glorious profession has given me the opportunity to observe mankind at its very best. Doing returns, in particular, is very rewarding.
A lady comes in to return an empty jar of juice, and an empty container of raspberries
lady - This juice tasted bad, and the berries were moldy. I want my money back.
me - I'm sorry, I can't give refunds on empty containers.
lady - but it was terrible
me - Well why did you eat 2 pounds of moldy berries?
lady - uh...
me - Did you just bring your trash in for a refund?
lady - This is ridiculous! I don't have to listen to this! (leaves)
I am not particularly squeamish, nor easily grossed out. My past blogs detailing the stuff I call "food", and CHOOSE to put inside my mouth should attest to this.
A man in a raiders jacket (warning flag!) came in to get a pack of cigarettes. He had a big mustache with no beard (another dead giveaway for trouble), and a giant glob of snot dangling off the hairs on his upper lip. every time he talked, it came precariously close to falling onto the counter. Finally, he wiped his face with the back of his hand, and transported the glob onto his knuckles.
At this point, the man looked at the back of his hand to inspect the flem, shrugged, and proceeded to use the keypad to swipe his card. I threw up just a little bit in my mouth, and choked it down (no joke!) "Excuse me sir, would you like a tissue?" "No".
A while ago I went to the Zoo with some dear friends of mine. About 8 of every 10 Zoo-goers are small children, and 3 out of every 10 Zoo-goers are the parents of small children. Now, going to the zoo as a child-less adult, in a group of other child-less adults, is like getting into a moonbounce as a fully grown man. Its a complete blast, and the kids don't mind, but the "responsible" adults look at you like you're on crack.
More on the Zoo later. I is OUT!
A lady comes in to return an empty jar of juice, and an empty container of raspberries
lady - This juice tasted bad, and the berries were moldy. I want my money back.
me - I'm sorry, I can't give refunds on empty containers.
lady - but it was terrible
me - Well why did you eat 2 pounds of moldy berries?
lady - uh...
me - Did you just bring your trash in for a refund?
lady - This is ridiculous! I don't have to listen to this! (leaves)
I am not particularly squeamish, nor easily grossed out. My past blogs detailing the stuff I call "food", and CHOOSE to put inside my mouth should attest to this.
A man in a raiders jacket (warning flag!) came in to get a pack of cigarettes. He had a big mustache with no beard (another dead giveaway for trouble), and a giant glob of snot dangling off the hairs on his upper lip. every time he talked, it came precariously close to falling onto the counter. Finally, he wiped his face with the back of his hand, and transported the glob onto his knuckles.
At this point, the man looked at the back of his hand to inspect the flem, shrugged, and proceeded to use the keypad to swipe his card. I threw up just a little bit in my mouth, and choked it down (no joke!) "Excuse me sir, would you like a tissue?" "No".
A while ago I went to the Zoo with some dear friends of mine. About 8 of every 10 Zoo-goers are small children, and 3 out of every 10 Zoo-goers are the parents of small children. Now, going to the zoo as a child-less adult, in a group of other child-less adults, is like getting into a moonbounce as a fully grown man. Its a complete blast, and the kids don't mind, but the "responsible" adults look at you like you're on crack.
More on the Zoo later. I is OUT!
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