Fatkins Rant

I actually posted this on Tribe.net, but was happy with it so I'm double posting it for all you non-Tribers (still don't understand that, but hey...whatevs)

Someone asked what was wrong w/ Fatkins. Well, I'll tell you my problem with it. How often have you gone into a restaurant you really like and the menu has changed to satisfy kosher or vegan diets? Now how often have restaurants jumped on the bandwagon to satisfy Fatkins? Have you ever been on a nice dinner date only to have your date pick their food apart just so they don't get one fucking carb? Trust me, it sort of ruins the meal. If it were something that people just did rather than crusaded it would fine, but it's not that way. It's a marketing crusade and it's fucking annoying. "They don't have low carb beer here. Can we go to another bar?" NO! Shut the fuck up and have WATER. grrrr... *steps off the soapbox*

If that's not enough for you check out www.illwillpress.com click on toons and see Foamy (my lord and master) rant away about the evils of Fatkins.

A new version of an old photo. Thanks Yanni! 

Stand up

Someday when I get brave or stupid enough I'm going to do an amateur night at a comedy club. Here's part of the act.

"Have you ever noticed that the people who push the wheelchairs at the airports are only about one step from needing to be the ones in the wheelchairs? It's as if they took all the Wal-mart greeters that could actually walk farther than 50 feet and gave them the better paying "wheelchair pusher" position at the airport. In Memphis they appear to have only had one candidate so they just cloned her. I swear I saw the same woman walk by going the same direction 3 times in a five minute period."

tea time

There are few things as comforting as a nice cup of hot tea or as refreshing as cold glass of iced tea. That being said there are few more product more ridiculously marketed than tea. Who are these people that create the marketing? It’s like watching a really bad soap opera on Spanish television. I realized this as I was having a cup of “Bengal Spice” and writing an e-mail the other night. I realized that “Bengal Spice” sort of sounds like tiger piss and regardless of how yummy that tea is (it’s goooood) I couldn’t get the thought out of my head.
The marketing is primarily on the boxes of tea rather than in other more common means of media. I have rarely seen a commercial or advert for tea here in the U.S. The boxes are really quite amazing, and granted there are some dull boxes of tea but not as many as really snazzy ones. The boxes invariably have witty or thoughtful quotes, drawings on them that give you a sense of how the tea will make you “feel”, and then to top it off ridiculous descriptions of the tea. One of my favorites (descriptions, not the tea) is, “A single cup of ###### has been known to have the same effect as sitting for 45 minutes in a mountain meadow on a sunny day with your shoes off.” So, if you sit for 45 minutes with your shoes on you cannot get the same effect as this tea. And if you sit for 50 minutes or 40 minutes or anything other than 45 minutes you will not get the same effect as this tea. It’s VERY specific. Or this one at the end of a paragraph describing the ingredients, “Tuck yourself into a private nook, and escape to an enchanting land of pure natural indulgence.” Oh for fuck’s sake. It’s not even real TEA!! It’s just a bunch of dried orange rinds and spices left over!
You know that brings me to a solid point. Actual tea doesn’t dress up to make you want it. “Strong Tea. Great Value.” How is that for straight forward? I think the marketing people just figure if you wanted a cozy getaway you’d just sip on some trail mix steeped in water, but if you want TEA you will have TEA!
And with that I’m off to go have a bath. It will be Smoooochie Tea. Ew…

wtf? I need a hobby. 

grey day sashes

The greyness of the day has settled into the half-hearty snow we received over the past day and a half. The mood fits the crooning of Jack Johnson coming from the beige speakers connected to my beige computer. Or is it putty? Either way it’s as non-descript as the outline of the grass outside. Sparse blades of grass prickle through their downy cover. I haven’t been outside this morning, but am sure that the sounds are clear and crisp as if to mock the grey, cloudy surrounding. It’s a pleasant and expected contrast that those in snowy regions take for granted, just as those in warm climes take thunderstorms as par for the course rather than something special. Today resembles my constitution as I’m in a fit of putty and bland. I want some excitement; a little bit of red in my plethora of grey. But what? A movie? Reading all day with some hot beverage by my side? A pad of paper and my thoughts? Only the day will tell and in it’s muted state I suspect that it won’t give me an answer. So, it’s up to me to create a gash on this blank sheet. Isn’t that the way?

I’m off to buy paper. I have ink and water colors. It’s time.