Every once in a while there are moments when you go to someones house to hang out, and when you walk in, there on the floor is something of interest... at least it catches your eye for a few seconds, and I don't mean a dead body... that would be of great interest and would consume much of your time at staring at it...
It is more of the little things that are out of place and rather strange for that friend to have out, or even have... So there is this minute at which you spend in gazing at this object, much like Sam Niel at the T-Rex... Long and hard... Then you move on...
Of course your friend noticed that you couldn't help but gander at that thing that is not a usual in their place, and proceeds to try and explain it to you when you don't really care that much in the first place, but you sit and listen to them because it is the polite thing to do...
"Oh that, that's the art project that Timmy is working on. He gave it to me to critique it for him as an outside of class help, or something... I think it's good, but the ways that he used that wood in the middle there and the rubber, with just a little bit of mortar around the edges is a bit strange don't you think?... oh but this was cool, he also wrote a little poem for the piece too... HA, pinned it to the back so you can read it if you flip it around...yeah, well I think I have to get it back to Timmy tomorrow, but I'm not sure how to, it's so awkward to handle..." ...huh?!?!...
What makes people think that their friends need them to explain the weird stuff in their apartment, or car, or tree fort... sometimes it is useful info, but when it comes down to explaining how you used to wet the bed when you were younger, and this was the thing that your mom gave you to help you, but your dog took it and buried it in the back yard and you couldn't find it, but you stopped wetting the bed later that week anyways, and now you have it because your dad went a little hippie again and was digging a hole to plant a tree in for earth day and found it so your mom sent it to you by FedEx...
Way too much information man....
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
Friday, November 13, 2009
Happy birthdays...
I don't really like my birthday... Most people LOVE their birthday, a time to be the center of attention, make people that they rarely see, buy them something "just because"... I find it an abuse of life...
Well to the point of writing for the day, I was looking at a facebook profile of someone that I know, and it happens to be their day of birth today... Well as I scrolled down the wall of their page, I saw it was littered with people that I am sure, or at least I would bet my leg (up-to the kneecap), that most of them don't talk to this person but once in a very long while... All of the posts were the same in essence, "Happy Birthday" some with an exclamation after, some retardedly with multiple vowels and consonants in them, some with the name, as if making sure that we get our signals clear, and others sounding redundant by also wishing that their day goes well...
Well this got me to thinking, mostly because I don't care that much for my own day of the birthing, what if that person was in fact having the worst day of their life, at least up to the moment... Is that just rubbing it in a little bit more than needed? here this person is, bitterly, moodily plodding their way through a day, which in fact is their birthing day (that perhaps has become a new favorite phrase), as some jolly bimbo, skipping as though is was a munchkin from the land of Oz and the wicked witch has just bit it, comes of and says in a rather overly gay, and that is the 40's sense of the word, "Happy Birthday, I hope you enjoy it to the fullest, and keep up your growing!"...
Ok, at this point, or at least when this gay "friend" gets the look of pure evil mixed with a strange grin of those who have more recently gone insane, they should know to run for their puny lives... Well that is what I think anyway...
Try this out, at least you are guaranteed to get them to respond back to you, tell them to "have a normal day, you don't know why this is the day for normality, but it seems just as good as any other."...
Well to the point of writing for the day, I was looking at a facebook profile of someone that I know, and it happens to be their day of birth today... Well as I scrolled down the wall of their page, I saw it was littered with people that I am sure, or at least I would bet my leg (up-to the kneecap), that most of them don't talk to this person but once in a very long while... All of the posts were the same in essence, "Happy Birthday" some with an exclamation after, some retardedly with multiple vowels and consonants in them, some with the name, as if making sure that we get our signals clear, and others sounding redundant by also wishing that their day goes well...
Well this got me to thinking, mostly because I don't care that much for my own day of the birthing, what if that person was in fact having the worst day of their life, at least up to the moment... Is that just rubbing it in a little bit more than needed? here this person is, bitterly, moodily plodding their way through a day, which in fact is their birthing day (that perhaps has become a new favorite phrase), as some jolly bimbo, skipping as though is was a munchkin from the land of Oz and the wicked witch has just bit it, comes of and says in a rather overly gay, and that is the 40's sense of the word, "Happy Birthday, I hope you enjoy it to the fullest, and keep up your growing!"...
Ok, at this point, or at least when this gay "friend" gets the look of pure evil mixed with a strange grin of those who have more recently gone insane, they should know to run for their puny lives... Well that is what I think anyway...
Try this out, at least you are guaranteed to get them to respond back to you, tell them to "have a normal day, you don't know why this is the day for normality, but it seems just as good as any other."...
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
"Five second rule" to puking...
I was thinking about food... Where it comes from, who it is that prepares it for me, and where it has been before I got hold of it...
I have been a slave in the food industry for a rather large portion of my life, and have seen and heard about things that I will defiantly not tell you about... but it is not the gross things that I know that happen to food that I was thinking about, but rather those people that refuse to touch food that have had anything happen to it...
So first you have to look at it from the viewpoint of the picky person. Ok, yes, it is gross if there has been something dropped on the floor, or you have found a hair in your food. That makes most people lose their appetite right off, so fast that even the Big Bang couldn't keep up with it...
Now think of it from the cooks point of view. Something falls on the floor, HEY five second rule, right? And it isn't like they play hide the hair in the soup game... And even when they find a slug on the fresh lettuce, wash it off and call it good. from a cooks standpoint the rule is, if I would eat it, it's ok...
So then we get down to the real truth of the matter, the part that would have that picky eater puking everything that he has ever eaten in their life back out, the truth that makes small girls cry and little boys stair in awe... The farmers side of the food tale...
Mental walk through: you go to a farm and see all the animals that the farmer is growing for food, and are only told, not shown, that they will soon be providing you with the beef for your burgers next Friday... Cool you think and thank the cow for it's brave sacrifice to a growing nation and go home rather hungrier than you should be... But as soon as you are gone the farmer goes to work... There are few that have seen a cow being slaughtered in real life, and the details of the goings on are not of an appropriate rating for this blog... You can just imagine a slasher movie, with the outcome being that a fat man gets to eat something...
Anyways, the Idea is that there is a whole lot more to what goes on in producing the food that we eat every day... then there is my theory that we are eating dead bodies all the time, but you can ask me about that at a later time...
And by the way, you can't spell slaughter without laughter...
I have been a slave in the food industry for a rather large portion of my life, and have seen and heard about things that I will defiantly not tell you about... but it is not the gross things that I know that happen to food that I was thinking about, but rather those people that refuse to touch food that have had anything happen to it...
So first you have to look at it from the viewpoint of the picky person. Ok, yes, it is gross if there has been something dropped on the floor, or you have found a hair in your food. That makes most people lose their appetite right off, so fast that even the Big Bang couldn't keep up with it...
Now think of it from the cooks point of view. Something falls on the floor, HEY five second rule, right? And it isn't like they play hide the hair in the soup game... And even when they find a slug on the fresh lettuce, wash it off and call it good. from a cooks standpoint the rule is, if I would eat it, it's ok...
So then we get down to the real truth of the matter, the part that would have that picky eater puking everything that he has ever eaten in their life back out, the truth that makes small girls cry and little boys stair in awe... The farmers side of the food tale...
Mental walk through: you go to a farm and see all the animals that the farmer is growing for food, and are only told, not shown, that they will soon be providing you with the beef for your burgers next Friday... Cool you think and thank the cow for it's brave sacrifice to a growing nation and go home rather hungrier than you should be... But as soon as you are gone the farmer goes to work... There are few that have seen a cow being slaughtered in real life, and the details of the goings on are not of an appropriate rating for this blog... You can just imagine a slasher movie, with the outcome being that a fat man gets to eat something...
Anyways, the Idea is that there is a whole lot more to what goes on in producing the food that we eat every day... then there is my theory that we are eating dead bodies all the time, but you can ask me about that at a later time...
And by the way, you can't spell slaughter without laughter...
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