B'daydah Chips

I really like potato chips. They've been one of the hardest things to stay away from since I have become more health concious. My favorit flavor is salt and vinegar. It's the perfect combination of salty and sour and I really can't get enough of them. Some good brands for S&Vs are Tim's Kettle Chips, and there is some brand that is supposed to be from Hawaii that isn't too shabby, either. Kettle Chips are my favorite as they get just the right proportions of salt to vinegar and their chips are the correct thickness. Tim's is a close second, but I find their chips to be a bit to thick.

In the cafeteria here at work they regularly carry Tim's, but the flavors vary at random. I new as soon as I got down there that I would have a bag, but all they had was Sour Cream 'n' Onion. Now SCnO is good. I like it, but it couldn't carry S&V's jock strap. Still, it's an acceptable alternative and there was no way I was going to eat some crappy Lay's.

Tim's really let me down with their SCnOs, though. They tasted ok, I guess, but the flavor wasn't very strong. I found myself trying to smash more and more chips in my mouth at a time in order to better taste them. Tim's, if you're out there, you lost a lot of points with me today; you shouldn't really be able to fuck up SCnOs. Not to worry, though, I'll keep coming back for your S&Vs as well as your Black Cracked Pepper.

Mmmm, potato chips.....

Der Hotdoggen

So yesterday we were in Costco buying 300 pounds of anything at low, low prices. While checking out I saw their little concession stand with a giant hot dog photo. Just like that I realized that I needed a hotdog. I needed one real bad.

So I turned to Nellbot and said, "I need a hotdog. I need one real bad." So once we paid for our stuff and grabbed our friend Hush, we headed to the closest Wienerschnitzel.

I thought I'd have a couple of chili dogs with some onions and a bag of fries, but when we walked into the joint, I saw these.


Now, lemme just say that a 1/3 pound dog should be intimidating. But I grew up ND where having 2nd and 3rd helpings is a way of life. That means that whatever gauge normal people have for what a g'fuckload of food looks like or when to avoid one is either not functional or is missing completely.

That's why I ordered two.

"Two?" said the guy behind the counter?

"Yeah, two of the chili cheese ones. Aaaand, myah, I don't need any fries."

I didn't order any fries. I mean, I'm no gluttonous hog, afterall.

Then Hush ordered the very same.

Then we ate them. Towards the end of the second dog each, we started getting sweaty bloated. We each finished by gently tamping down the last bite like we were Civil War era muzzle-loader rifles. It was not a pretty sight.

Now, one would think that eating 2/3 of a pound of hotdog, combined with 2 very healthy doses of processed real-esque monosodiumglutimized chili product would make you shit your brains out. That was my main concern once I realized exactly what I'd done to myself. But I've been fine for the last 24 hours. That's what scares me. Everthing's been fine. I can only assume that there will be a reckoning. Until that time, I'm just trying to live life to the fullest.

On Fucking Up Your Life As Well As Mine

I gotta' get this off my chest or I'm going to flip the fuck out.

So I'm getting married in 57 days. As I've said before, I'm really excited about it. Upon hearing this, one of the higher-ups in my deparment promptly started expounding upon his theory that marriage is largely a mistake. He further suggested that I get a prenup in order to safegaurd both my own and my bride-to-be's future security in the event of a divorce.

Now, while I know the guy thought he was looking out for my best interest, that couldn't be further from the case. What he was really doing was taking an opportunity to sound sage while simultaneously complaining about his own life. You see, all this great marriage advice is coming from a guy who got divorced in the last 2 years. Oh, I'm sure he learned a lot from the experience, but that doesn't make him an expert on marriage. In this case, it makes him bitter. I will now address the points he made since I could not do it to his face:

• "Remember, 50% of people that get married get divorced." The statistic is poorly calculated and misrepresentational. It is the annual marriage rate per 1,000 people compared with the annual divorce rate. What they should be do is calculate how many people who have ever married subsequently divorced. Which makes the percentage 41. There is speculation that it will never hit 50%. Thanks to http://www.divorcereform.org/nyt05.html for the explanation.
• "You've been together 8 years? You're making a mistake by marrying this girl. You haven't been able to explore other options to see if she's really the one that's right for you." The fuck do you know about my love life before my fiance? Every last one of the women I dated before her were out of their fucking gourds. All of them.
• "Love is not the only reason to get married. There are a lot of other things you have to take into consideration. You're creating a partnership. You have to look at how you work as a team, etc." This is the one statement he made that I agreed with when separated from the rest of the garbage spewing forth from the hole in the front of his head. We've been living together with combined finances/resources for the better part of 4 years. I know exactly how we work and interact together. Which is one of the many reasons we're going to get married.
• "She isn't pregnant already, is she?" No. But thanks for giving me some credit. That'd be a great way to get sucked into a marriage, wouldn't it?
• "How old are you? 28? That's not so bad." Ok, cool. I'm glad you're ok with that.
• Now I would like to address the underlying, though unstated theme of your diatribe: You're assuming I have not given marriage any real thought or consideration, that I am somehow romanticizing the experience. You don't think I know what I'm getting into. You say hi to me once a day. That is the extent to which you know me. You don't know how I make decisions, you don't know my background, you don't a goddam thing about my life as it is today. You don't know that I am a product of divorce and thus, perhaps take marriage a bit more seriously than many folks. Or that I have essentially been married for the last 4 years anyway. You have no idea what I am capable of and you don't know my woman or how strong and beautiful she is, and you sure as hell don't know how deep my love for her is. All you know is that your marriage wasn't all it was cracked up to be. All you have is your mistakes. You have 15 years of mistakes and you have twisted them into an argument against marriage, rather than a good explanation for why yours didn't work.

One of my bosses replied, "Josh, I hope you're part of the 50% that stays together forever." Thanks.

Ok, there, I feel much better now.

Oh, and if you're out there Dr. J., this doesn't at all pertain to you. I can handle all the, "Are you sure you still want to get married?" jokes you can dish out.

I'm Not Being Prejudiced, But...

So there were two older folks talking in a cube near mine. They were discussing American Idol and how a lot of the people on there are doing a lot of modulations and runs on the scales. The man complained about how much they're like Mariah Carey and that he didn't enjoy that. The woman said, "That's Black. I'm not being prejudiced, but I am sorry, that's black."

He said, "Well, no it isn't."

She said, "Oh yes it is and now all the kids on there are doing that."

Well, cool, as long as you're not being prejudiced.

They then went on to discuss Jazz music at length, mentioning greats like Ella Fitzgerald. Gee, jazz doesn't have any modulations or scale runs, does it?

I'll Wrastle Ya' Fer It

There are two things you need if you're going to start wrestling or any kind of grappling:

1. A realization that you're going to get schooled by the experienced folks. They may be nice to you about it, but you're going to do what they want you to because you can't stop 'em.
2. A willingness to get well acquainted with your asshole as your opponent will be gently tucking your head into your anus each and every time you hit the mat.

I don't want to sound like I'm complaining, though. I had a lot of fun on Monday and am looking forward to going back next Monday. I did pull a muscle or two in my upper back and neck, but they're healing nicely. Before I went to bed on Monday I had a nice, healing coctail of 40 grams of protein shake with one tbsp of L-Glutamin, a multi-vitamin, two ibuprofen and 3 handfuls of Silly Circles, Safeway's knock-off version of Froot Loops. After that good medicine I'd have to feel better!

With Mustard, Please

Tonight is my first night training at a Brazilian jiujitsu school. One of my good friend's coworkers is a sensei (I dunno what they call it in the Brazilian arts). The man is a police officer and huge, as are many of his students.

Then there's me.

I'm'a get tied up like a pretzel tonight.

Too Soon

Welp, it looks like I spoke too soon. Just minutes after I wrote the Drama post (as seen directly below) I found out that drama is rearing its ugly head once again.

My fiance NellBot and I are getting married at the end of May and I'm pretty excited about it. We're both mostly simple folk so our ceremony will be very basic and short. My younger brother is going to be my best man and the only member in my half of the wedding party. NellBot, on the other hand, originally planned to have 5 members in her half of the wedding party, her two sisters, and 3 good friends. But she was worried that it would look weird with just one dude on my side and a small cadre of wimminz on her side. Therefore, she decided just to have her two sisters, one of which would be the maid of honor and stand by us during the ceremony while the other would sit down.

Fine. No mess, no clean up.

Here's where it gets tough, though.

NellBot's two sisters are CatBot and RelBot. CatBot was RelBot's maid of honor. NellBot was the maid of honor at CatBot's wedding. So the only one who has not yet been a maid of honor is RelBot. With me so far? Cool. NellBot and CatBot have been getting along much better over the last year and a half than they had in the past. Consequently, NellBot thought it would be nice to have CatBot as her maid of honor. BUT, RelBot mentioned that she was a bit hurt that she was not asked to be the MoH. NellBot realized that perhaps she was a bit hasty in asking CatBot, and wanted to change her mind.

No drama just yet, but its coming!!

Meanwhilre, back at the ranch, CatBot has been organizing a bridal shower which she sort of comandeered from our friend Pammy. We love Pammy and her husband and their little boy, Danny. They're a part of our family. But Pammy graciously respected CatBot's sisterly claim to such a thing and is apparently helping.

As I sat typing the Drama post (as seen directly below), NellBot had emailed CatBot, asking her if it would be a big deal to make RelBot the MoH instead. To which CatBot replied, "Sure. Should I send her the bills for the bridal shower?" Now there's drama. See, CatBot is clearly butt-hurt by the change in plans without taking into consideration RelBot's or NellBot's feelings on the matter (just a quick reminder that this is NellBot's special day). On top of that, while CatBot's bridal shower efforts are not unwelcome, they were unsolicited. So for her to hold such a thing over NellBot's head was incredibly manipulative.

Now NellBot's butt-hurt as well, though rightfully so. CatBot called their mom earlier in the day to discuss the matter, and NellBot called their mom as soon as she got home from work. The sisters have spoken on the phone, but I don't think anything has yet been resolved.

And there it is, Drama. Looks like I opened my big mouth too soon.

Drama

I'll admit that I'm a bit of a fan of reality television. Yes, it's probably not all that, "real," and it's probably scripted and edited to be more exciting than the actual experience. Still, though, there's this weird window into the human condition that I find fascinating. So it is no surprise that I ended up watching this show today.

The basic concept of the show is to find a good woman for Flava Flav. Of course, if they were all good for him it would be kind of a boring show. So some of them are decent enough, but most of them are triflin'-ass whores with narcisistic attitudes and huge mouths (though their vocabularies seem to be fairly limited). Not a day goes by on the show when the hookers don't get in a verbal rumble and call each other colorful names.

It's a non-stop barage of, "ya'll don't look like Biance," and, "youdon'tknooowmeyoudon'tknooowmeyoudon'tknooowme." I don't understand how anybody could be SO dramatic all the fucking time. It made me really glad that I have surrounded myself with people that aren't absolutely insane or otherwise mentally unstable. I don't have to spend any time worrying about silly, egoistic things and can focus on the real obstacles in life.

If you're out there ladies and gents, thanks and I love you!!