Blah blah blah...

As I sit here thinking about what I should blog about, I can honestly say, I have no good ideas or brilliant thoughts, which is weird, because I'm usually chock full of em (well, full of something)

I've been in a bit of a funk as of late. As I try to figure out why, I'm hard pressed to fund an answer.
My job is great.
I'm good looking (albeit a bit chubby)
I have an amazing group of friends.
I'm dating a fantastic gal that seems to get me.(sorry ladies)
I have roof over my head and a warm bed to sleep in.

So what the hell do I have to be in a funk about?

In an attempt to get to the bottom of this situation, I will make a list..

1) My dog died.

Well I guess that's about it.

*sigh*

Deep Thoughts....kinda.

I was thinking the other day. I don't remember exactly what I was thinking about, but I'm sure it was something I thought was interesting.

Or maybe not.

I've never been accused of being a "big thinker." I just kinda am who I am and think about what, I suppose, I'm supposed to think about (like if it's okay to use suppose and supposed twice in a row like that)
I don't think about big things like the meaning of life, what happens when we die or how those foamy soap dispensers work. I mean, its regular damn soap in the bottle and then it comes out foamy!
Whatever, I guess that's the kind of crap I figure I'll find out when I die. Or not...who knows?

On occasion I've been called shallow, but I prefer to think of myself as simple. It doesn't take much to entertain me. Give me some aluminum foil and a band-aid (or a blog) and I can have fun for literally minutes on end.

Obviously there is a place for big thinkers in the world. I mean, somebody had to think of a way to get a guy on the moon, right? Who would have invented the Slinky, the garden hose or 12 sided dice? In a world full of thinkers like me, we'd be playing Dungeons and Dragons with rocks and peeing on our lawns wondering why they weren't growing.

Sometimes I think about what I'm going to write in my blog, but then usually determine that it's pretty stupid. Which is kind of sad if you look at the crap I actually have written here.

I think about things like who the hell decided that the number 2 would be spelled T W O. This makes no sense to me and I even had a minor panic attack at the grocery store once when I was writing a check for $200, because"T W O Hundred" didn't look right. T O O? No. T O? That's not right. T W O? That just can't be right!!!
"Twhoa" is how it should be pronounced. Someone should change the spelling to "Tew." Who do I write a letter to regarding the changing of the spelling of a number?

Sometimes people who are not great thinkers are mistaken for dumb, which I think is silly, as many great thinkers could also be called dumb. I guess it all depends on what you consider smarts. I heard that Albert Einstein once left the house without his pants. Now that's pretty stupid.
Me? I may not be the smartest guy, but at least I've never forgotten my pants (well, not by accident.)

Deep thoughts? Meh, who needs em? Brilliant ideas? Go right on ahead and give it all you got. I'm just going to sit here with my dog, have some dinner, blog a bit and maybe shave my legs later.
I won't sit here and ponder, or wonder about the difference between the words ponder and wonder. I won't ask why, and that's okay.

Peace!

The things we are told.

I just cracked my knuckles for about the four millionth time and it hit me: "I don't have arthritis."
For as far back as I can remember, I was always told "Don't to that, you're going to get arthritis."

My face has also never frozen in an awkward way after making a funny face and my eyes are not permanently crossed.

As I sit here typing with both hands, I realize that I never lost an arm to one of those people that drove by real close and ripped off kid's arms when they hung them out the car window.

I didn't realize until I was about 14 that thunder wasn't clouds bumping into each other.

It wasn't until I was in my mid 20's that I really thought about where the vitamins in a piece of bread are and that they're not actually in the crust.

It's funny to think about the little fibs our parents told us. Whether they were for our own safety, to get us to do what they wanted us to do, or just to shut us up because they didn't really know the answer to one of our questions.

I'm sure there are many more fibs that both my parents told my siblings and me when we were young, but I'm at a loss to think of any as I quickly write this during my lunch hour.

If you have any of these little family fibs you would like to share, please do so. I'd love to hear how much more messed up and misinformed you are then I am. =)

Dollar Tree Delicasies.

So you can probably assume by my previous food posts, I like to eat. I'll eat damn near anything and will certainly TRY anything once.

On my weekly trips to the Dollar Tree Store, I enjoy finding neat little things. You know, things like candles, socks and the occasional box of Arabian Froot Loopies cereal.
For some reason though, I am especially drawn towards the freezer section, so I buy these atrocities, always hoping they'll be delicious.

I mean really, how bad could they be, right?

Dish #1 Mexican Style Beef Enchilada & Tamale Combo

 I don't know about you, but I LOVE Mexican food. I could probably eat it every day and let me tell you, there is no shortage of taquerias in my neighborhood. But who needs a taqueria when you can get delicious foodstuffs like this for the everyday low price of $1?
This looks SO good! I can't WAIT!

 Okay, so it doesn't look quite like the picture, but hey, rarely does a McDonald's cheeseburger, and they're always delicious.

 I've decided that I really could have waited. I can't tell which is the enchilada and which is the tamale either by sight or taste. I wonder how much they pay the employees at the Banquet factory to vomit in tortillas and also, what exactly are they vomiting in them. Probably leftover Salisbury steak is my guess.
Sad to say, but the baby poop refried bean are the high point of this meal and that's not saying much.

Dish #2 Macaroni and Cheese Meal (with rich cheddar cheese sauce)

 Oh how I do love my macaroni and cheese. I actually have an amazing recipe for homemade baked mac & cheese I got from my skank of an ex girlfriend. It's pretty easy to make (and so is she), so I don't see how Banquet could have screwed this one up.

 Okay, so now I see how they could have screwed this up. I don't really even know what to say about this one other than it's apparently a good source of calcium. It's also a good source of explosive diarrhea.
I didn't even want to eat it, but I made myself play "Open the tunnel, here comes the choo choo train" and choked down a couple bites. I guess I could have doctored it up with some rat poison and wood chips or something.

Dish #3  Zesty Smothered Meat Patty Meal

 I just bought this one for the novelty. I can't imagine anyone in their right mind would actually see this and think "Mmmm....that sounds good." I know I didn't.
The presentation on the box is kinda nice though....

The freshly nuked product is not quite so yummy looking. The smell alone was enough to send Tex running for cover. As awful as everything I've tried so far has been, this is definitely the topper, man. I literally had to spit it out.
You have to wonder: Who the hell actually thought that a zesty smothered meat pattie was a good idea in the first place. I dunno, maybe the guy who owns Banquet had a Grandmother that made a really great zesty smothered meat patty or something. If so, somewhere between Grandma's kitchen and the freezer aisle, the recipe was lost. Grandma is turning in her grave.
All I can say is that if I am ever starving on a deserted island with you, a microwave and this meal, you better start runnin'.

I think next time I have the bright idea to do this, I'll just grab a hammer and hit myself with it a few times instead. I don't know what's worse, that I actually ate these damn things or that I'm sitting at home on a Friday night blogging about it.

I'm gonna go lay on the floor and regret this now.

Tums please.

You Bastard!

Dear DVR,

I thought the world of you. I thought you were here for me.
I thought I could come home to you and you would make me happy.

Why on earth would you decide to stop recording the Tour de France ONE MILE from the finish of the most exciting stage yet?

I thought you cared.

It's obvious you don't.

I can barely see through this web of lies anymore.

I'll give you another chance, but I don't know if I can trust you anymore. 

*sigh*

"We need to talk."

There are few things as frightening as hearing these words. Whether they're coming from your boss, your mother, your priest, the doctor at the free clinic,  or worse, someone you're dating.

You may as well be saying "'You're about to be seriously fucked in a minute."

I know I've been on the giving end of these "talks" a few times and have certainly been on the receiving end more than I care to admit, so I know what I'm talking about here.

I was just given the "We need to talk, I'll be over in half an hour" from a lady friend and I can't help but wonder how I could have possibly screwed anything up already.

Maybe she wants to talk about how awesome I am. Yeah, that's probably it now that I think about it.

I don't even know why I'm getting all worked up.

What could possibly go wrong?

So I was thinking.....

Earlier today I was thinking about how awesome I am.

I know, you're probably thinking "This guy needs to get over himself already", but hear me out.

I don't know if it's normal to be as pleased with one's self as much as I am, and if it's not normal, it certainly should be.

I'm very fortunate to be who I am. I'm pretty good looking, witty (oh so witty) I'm quite smooth (in more ways than one), I'm humble and I rarely get B.O. How many of you can say that?

Don't get me wrong, there are probably like, two or three things wrong with me...probably less actually. Okay, I can't really think of anything off the top of my head right now, but I'm sure there's something wrong with me (please note that any comments actually pointing out flaws, either physical or emotional, will be promptly removed)

I get the occasional athlete's foot flare up, so there's that I guess. I suppose my love of coffee and cigarettes first thing in the morning would be considered a flaw by some. I've been told that I sometimes snore, but I'm pretty sure that's just a lie by bitter women to make me feel bad.

Anyway, back to my awesomeness.

So I'm looking in the mirror and I thought "Man, you are one awesome motherf**ker. Why can't everyone be as awesome as I am?" the world would surely be a better place, no?

Then I got to thinking "How can I get my awesomeness to rub off on other people?" I thought that maybe humping legs would do the trick, but my neighbor quickly made it clear that this was NOT the direction I should be heading (he can be such an asshole sometimes)

So I figured I'd just blog about it.


What actually defines awesome? The amount of money I make? The number of people I know? How many pairs of shoes I have? My car? My wardrobe? My delicious calf muscles? I realize that all these things are great (especially the calves), but none define true awesomeness as far as I'm concerned.


True awesomeness = true happiness. True happiness = loving yourself. And believe me, I do love myself.

Is this whole thing here some kind of affirmation to myself? Probably, but I'm no shrink. I'm just typing on a Saturday. But I do believe, even though my life is far from perfect, that I am indeed truly happy.

I figure I'll keep trying to be the best person I can be. I will be positive. I will be polite, I will hold doors for people and I will tell them how nice nice they look. I will point out how nice their new shoes are. I will be there when my friends or family need me. I will try to be someone I would like to know.
I will listen.I will advise and allow myself to be advised. All the while, hoping my awesomeness rubs off on people and maybe, if I'm lucky, some of theirs will rub off on me.

After all, as hard as it may be to believe, there is a good chance that there is someone out there even more awesome than I am. =)

I'm going to go take an awesome nap now.

Who Wants to Watch Bike Races?

I am a cyclist.

I'm not really a competitive cyclist, unless you consider racing homeless people on the bike trail competitive. But a cyclist I am, through and through.
I love everything bicycle. The long rides, the short rides, the good rides and the bad rides. Even the ones I think about doing but don't actually do, which are usually the easiest.
I love working on bikes, tuning and polishing them, dialing in the gears so they shift flawlessly. Truing the wheels so they're straighter than a nun on Sunday.
Hell, sometimes I just sit and gaze lovingly at my beatiful two wheeled sex machines...wait..what?

Yeah...

I also love bicycle racing. In particular the Tour de France.

                                          ^^^See how I placed that cool logo there?^^^

To the layman, it's just a bunch of guys on their bikes wearing sissy clothes, riding in a big group going real fast while plastered with sponsors names you don't recognize unless you're European or a Radio Shack nerd. Actually, now that I think about it, how the hell does Radio Shack afford to sponsor a world class cycling team? I can't remember the last time I went to a Radio Shack and spent anything more than $3 on a stereo cable.

Anyway...

Why the lack of love for cycling? I mean hell, it's right up there with soccer as far as most people are concerned. Bikes and soccer, two things loved by 7 year old kids.
Mostly, I think, is because people don't understand the sport. The strategy and team tactics, the, pain, sweat and dedication it takes to pedal over 2,000 miles in three weeks with the most elite riders in the world.
I remember years ago watching the tour. Every morning I would watch the live coverage before I left for work. After seeing my excitement every morning, my (then) wife -who is about the furthest thing from a cyclist you'll ever see-  started watching with me. In no time at all, after having a better understanding of how professional cycling works, we were both sitting in front of the tv every morning, often screaming and cheering Lance on to another victory.
It was so amazing to see a non cyclist learn the love of the sport.

After not having cable for about four years, I signed a friggin' two year contract with Direct TV so I can watch this year.

This is how much I love this race.

So for three weeks, I will DVR the tour and watch it when I get home. For three weeks, I will avoid the internet spoilers. No sports pages, no facebook, discussion forums etc, just so I can come home every night, listen to Paul and Phil commentate like only they can, and watch this wonderful race in all it's splendor and glory. I may even wear my spandex.

If you're not a cyclist, thanks for reading this. If you are a cyclist, you're probably really sexy.

For you non-cyclist, I say you try watching a stage or two. You might find you like it.

Bonjour!