Pizza Cheese

Has it ever occurred to anyone that pizza cheese is one of the few things that can look all stringy and gooey, and still look appetizing?

I was pretty shocked that pizza cheese has its own Wikipedia page, but even more so to find it said this...

"Pizza cheese may also be a snack cheese of dubious quality..."

This slice is just waiting to burn the roof of your mouth.

Yeah, sorry, that all I could come up with on "pizza cheese".

Sober Poop Moment - Number 1

Alternate title: When did it get so complicated‽

I know what most of you are thinking. I have the word "poop" and "number 1" in the title, and someone will invariably make a comment about which is it, number 1 or number 2? And it will happen on the second post as well for obvious reasons. Hopefully most of you will be mature enough not to go there, but then who am I kidding.

Know your audience.

Normally I would leave the feces-related reporting to more experienced individuals, but this is all-out war!

So, if you happen to follow my blog, you'll know that I moved recently. Until now, I have not yet had a chance to exploit this for the blog. I've never lived in a particularly fancy place. I have my standards, but as long as I have a frig, stove, working toilet and shower I'm pretty much set. My new place, in contrast, is in a fairly new building and one of the reasons I moved was to gain some "luxury" amenities. Definitely one deciding factor was the dishwasher. This is not only an awesome timesaver, but probably will help me prevent health-code violations. Also, there is no door on my new kitchen to hide the stacks of dirty dishes.

There have been many wonders in my new apartment, but none more confusing than what I found in the bathroom. Now, I've been to many bathrooms, so it's not like I'm a water-closet newbie or anything. I've even used a urinal in the Vatican.

I guess you're expected to kneel when you use it.

However, when I got to my new toilet, I was greeted by what was to me, an unusual sight. Rather than the typical flush handle that one would expect, there were instead two buttons! Now at this point I was feeling a bit like Sylvester Stallone in Demolition Man when he is in the future trying to figure out how the three seashells work.

I would have gotten a better picture, but the buttons are right under a shelf. Brilliant planning.

Apparently, the buttons are supposed to help you conserve water. The button on the left with the half-filled circle is supposed to flush half as much water as the button on the right. Nevermind that I have to memorize which button is which because I have to stick my hand underneath a shelf to press them. Now if it's one thing I appreciate about going to the bathroom is that it is relatively simple. Your body pretty much knows what to do and does it. The disposal of those bodily functions should be equally simple. Now, with this system, each time I go to the bathroom I need to stop and make a decision...do I need a half flush or a full flush for this particular visit? I have to make decisions and struggle with issues all day, now you are going to complicate my bathroom experiences? My solution, and the irony, is that I pretty much pick the buttons at random and probably use the same amount of water either way. Seems like if I push the 'half' button, I have to press it a second time anyway, so why complicate my life with flush choices‽ Now if one button flushed with red water and the other blue, THEN they might have something. Make flushing fun and colorful. I could choose my flush based on my mood. Was it a good bowel movement? Ok, blue then. For those constipated visits, red....although that could have repercussions I won't go into here.

So in the end (heh, had to GO there) lets keep the bathroom simple eh? Although a butt-massage option might be nice.

Experiments In Duplication

(In some circles, this might be referred to as plagiarism, but those circles are jerks)


to the fella' in india who found this blog by googling "synonym and palindrome for ship detection device," i'm sorry to have let you down with my whiskey-infused poop lectures and complaints about financial corporations and umbrellas.

i'm sure that's not what you were looking for.

but if you're still reading, the answer is RADAR.

you're welcome.

for everyone else, check out the billboard liberation front's improved version of the mcdonald's advertisement.

i'm sick of it. as seen at cala foods on california and hyde.

wellp, with that said, it's time to drink whiskey and poop. (poop is a verb in this sentence, not a noun.)

kbye.


If it helps justify any of this, I DID see the sign first-hand WITH the guy who took the picture and wrote about it, AND we discussed it (sortof). Also, he bought me at least two of the beers I drank last night which I think contributed to me forgetting two other great blog post ideas that I had on the way home from bar-hopping. So there!

Raiders of the Lost Boba Fett

I have finally completed the move into the new apartment, and the horrifying experience has left me with many tales to tell...mostly ones where I am ready to strangle someone. Here, on the other hand, is a tale of rediscovery!

The one thing I can say about moving is that it gives you the opportunity to look through boxes and closets that had been undisturbed for months, if not years. As a result, it gives you a chance to play archaeologist with your belongings. I was fine without Nazis storming my bedroom to stop me from finding that t-shirt I thought I'd lost, but I wouldn't have minded finding an attractive, young woman tied up in my closet....ahem, but we'll get my fetishes at another time. The process of finding a long-lost tchotchke, or even something you had forgotten you even had, can make moving a little more bearable...until until you have to figure out where you are going to put it.

(how many of you knew "tchotchke" began with a "t"? Come-on, be honest.)

Almost everyone has too much of something. For some it's little, ceramic Scotty dogs; or books by French poets that they can't even read; or hatred of the Proletariat...but for me, it tends to be Star Wars figures, robots, and stuff made by Apple. I probably have more Star Wars toys than most kids, but then I HAVE been collecting since 1977. Most are in storage, but a number of favorites grace my desk and shelves at home. One of my favorites has always been Boba Fett. I mean, who doesn't love a mysterious guy in full body armor who doesn't take shit from Darth Vader. In fact, Boba Fett originally had a smaller part as a generic bounty hunter, but he was so popular, the character was given a bigger role. One day, while playing...I mean, adjusting my Jango Fett figure, it dawned on me that the Boba Fett figure that usually had a prominent place on my desk was GONE!!! -GASP!- -HORRORS!- I spent quite a bit of time looking for him with no luck. I was convinced Jango had dispatched him to gain the #1 spot on my desk...which he did. As a result, the search for Boba was made a top priority!

Yes, my priorities are a bit messed up.

Months went by, and I finally began to let go and assumed Boba had been carried away by a ninja pigeon or something. Life went on and I cluttered my desk with other items like bills and stuff I would "look at later".

Flash forward to this weekend as I stacked the last of the boxes from my old apartment into my new one, approximating the home of one of those people from that Hoarders tv show. Like most people, I expected to pack neatly and orderly, with proper labels on the boxes indicating contents. That probably happened for the first box but the rest involved shoveling items into boxes, bags, or suitcases. At the end, I was left with an apartment of boxes with unidentifiable contents, and the search began for those vital items that I need from day to day...like my PS3 controller, a bottle opener, and my iPhone charge cable. This scattershot search technique led me to many remarkable discoveries, but none so profound as the revelation that Boba Fett WAS NOT LOST!

"What?! I went out for some chicken & waffles. How long do you THINK that takes when you are 3 inches tall?!"

I also discovered that I had a Mace Windu figure I forgot I even had. Sorry SLJ! I expect to have many other fanciful discoveries in the next few weeks, some of which will be ushered by "top men" to a warehouse referred to as "Goodwill" or eBay, so I won't break my toe when walking from my bedroom to my living room. (picture withheld because, trust me, it looked bad and nobody wants to see my feet)