Tubular, dude
[ 2 Comments ] Posted on 12.16.04 in awesomeness, food
People give hot dogs a bad rap. I mean, they can’t help what they are; tubes of assorted meaty goodness are by their nature unable to alter their state of being.
Sure, they’re made of a bunch of different animals and wrapped into a tubular shape with some sort of edible and fleshy material. And some people may find fault in this scheme. Not I, however. I view the hot dog as one of God’s gifts to man: an unrelenting source of nourishment and disposal in one compact, easy to handle package of delight.
In thinking about it, the hot dog is actually an efficient form of disposal. What should we do with excess animal parts? If not pack them into commercially marketed tubes for public consumption, what other alternative is there? If anything, the Oscar Meyers and Hebrew Nationals of the world are saving the world from the sticky situation of not having anywhere to put its excess cow tongues.
Plus, hot dogs are really, really tasty. I feel bad for the two poor birds that were hit by the deli folk’s rock.
The last straw
[ 5 Comments ] Posted on 12.15.04 in advice, random
What classifies being a man? Is it chopping down trees with one swift swing of an axe? Or could it have something to do with killing a man with your bare hands? Or should it be mandated that in order for you to be considered a real man, you slap one of those bumper stickers on the back of your pickup telling the whole world of your prayer habits?
While all of these qualities are indeed conducive to existing as a man, the evolution into that state of being is wholly different.
Here’s a tip from the manliest of them all: Don’t use straws.
Yeah, I said it. Radical, is it not? Picture this: You sit down at a table, order your drink (which, at this point in my life cannot be legally alcoholic), and in a few minutes the servestress (or whomever) returns with a mug of frosty Coca Cola and a little plastic tube wrapped oh-so-sanitarily in paper. By tossing the straw to the side and swigging from the glass with your bare lips, you are exposing yourself to a world of potential infection from prior uses. But in essence by merely chugging from that glass you’ve said to that viral disease, “I’m not afraid of you, because a real man shouldn’t be.”
Because exams are over, this is all I have to think of.
Beads!
[ 2 Comments ] Posted on 12.11.04 in complaints, observations
Last night I walked alongside a float full of kids from my church in the Clearwater Fun n Sun Holiday Parade. As we trudged through downtown among the bourgeois huddled alongside Cleveland Avenue, I realized that I never again want to be a spectator at a parade.
Starting at Crest Lake Park and moving west toward the heart of Downtown, the types of people along the parade route were clearly discernible. First we started with a high population of Mexicans to either side. This minority gradient soon developed into a large African-American crowd screaming for the candies and beads we were so graciously tossing to the side. When our float approached the true bounds of downtown, most people were Caucasians who had reached their Mecca of candy and plastic jewelry from the ground following their long pilgrimage from the local trailer park. Please make note that I’ve nothing major against any of the aforementioned minorities, it’s just that their division clearly denotes the division in the parade route.
One aspect of parading that is a commonality between all areas of Clearwater is the hostility that everyone holds for stupid strings with little plastic balls on them. After greeting ninety-nine percent of the folks whom we passed with a holly jolly “Merry Christmas” or “Happy Holidays,” we were assaulted with the same rude, one-word response: “Beads!”
I don’t fault most kids for this; they’re young and don’t know better. But when 30 year old Juanita or Shaprice can only eek out one word in response to our generosity, I take it personally. You’re not getting my beads.
That is, of course, unless you’re a hot chick.