“Food”

Last week I had another giggle inducing online chat with my dear friend E, who among her other qualities is really good for that sort of thing. She sent me a link to a description of the Bud Light Apple-Ahhh-Rita with the comment, “Next thing you know they’ll be releasing pumpkin-spice-a-ritas.”

Screen Shot 2014-09-07 at 4.29.24 PM
I can picture it now. Across the globe United States, the Mason jar images on this packaging will awaken deep urges within yoga pants wearing, Pinterest pinning, pumpkin spice latte consuming, middle class women who will flock to grocery stores en masse to stock up on this seasonal beverage. (Shut up, shut up, and shut up, by the way.)

The reviews are certainly compelling.

Screen Shot 2014-09-07 at 1.38.19 PM

You can use it to marinate tough meat or make ceviche, but this stuff, like battery acid, should really never come in direct contact with your digestive tract.

I really appreciate the next guy’s honesty.

Screen Shot 2014-09-07 at 1.41.19 PM

I picture someone with such a well-established beer rater profile only ever consuming a Bud Light “rita” as part of a Tosh.0-style dare. What was your prize, buddy? Was it worth it?

I’ve said before that I’m afraid of all things Taco Bell because of the seemingly universal adverse effects their menu items seem to have on humans and animals alike. After reading these reviews I’m inclined to believe that the Apple-Ahhh-Rita would pair nicely with something Awww-Full like the gut bomb that is the Doritos Locos Taco Supreme.

My friend E posits that one could also “grab a tall boy and drink one of these with some Lay’s cappuccino potato chips because apparently the food industry has lost its mind.”

Cappuccino what-what?

Continue reading ““Food””

Oatmeal Anxiety

I depend on my routines. Routines are my way of establishing a sense of calm and balance. I find comfort in stability and predictability. Are you catching on yet?

I like to start my weekdays off on the right foot, by settling in at the office before things get busy. After rolling in to the office I fire up my computer and Pandora, brew a mug of green tea, then catch up on e-mail. After determining that there aren’t any fires that need immediate fighting, I make my way back to the break room for breakfast. My breakfast routine is fairly predictable; if it’s not a boiled egg and some fruit it’s a glass of milk and a piece of toast. Looking to mix things up and be a bit wild and crazy, I recently introduced oatmeal to the rotation. I know; it was a bold move. This wasn’t just any oatmeal, though; it was a packet of oatmeal revolution. The day I first tried the oatmeal I marched eagerly to the break room ready to stir in some hot water and enjoy my breakfast, and here’s what I was met with:

Looks simple enough. I’m really excited about eating this oatmeal; I’m getting tired of boiled eggs.

The package says to “Try It!” so I’m going to fill to the top of the line with water. I think it’s daring me. Challenge accepted.

Continue reading “Oatmeal Anxiety”

Camel : Eye of Needle :: Gulf of Mexico : ?

A: MY SINUS CAVITIES!!!

Since my allergies have decided to add regular pain and suffering to my daily routine again, I recently took the plunge and followed the crowd of Oprah watchers who swear by the neti pot. And then I was actually crazy enough to use the damn thing!

One night after B had dozed off, I finally removed the neti pot from its hiding place in our medicine cabinet. Standing over the sink, I studied the box carefully, memorizing the instructions and paying close attention to the accompanying images. Images of ladies wearing calm, perhaps slightly smug expressions and holding neti pots to their nostrils. Women who look like they come home after long, exhausting days at work or with the kids and relax with a cool, refreshing neti pot dousing. They sit around watching Grey’s Anatomy, drinking wine, and cleaning their sinuses. They profess their love for the neti pot and the changes it has brought to their lives. They can’t get enough of the neti pot!

I cancelled a date to stay at home with my neti pot!

It’s so easy, even an idiot can do it!

This lady–and Dwight–would have you believe that the best part of your day will be your neti pot dousing.

They lie!

So for all you would-be neti pot users, I recommend a test run. You’ve got to make sure that you’re up to the challenge when it’s time for you to put your investment to good use, and here’s an easy way to determine if you’ve got the gall:

1. Find the nearest ocean or salty body of water.

2. Wade out into the water.

3. Stick your face under the water and keep it there.

4. Inhale deeply and forcefully through your nostrils.

It’s awful, isn’t it? If you’re anything like me, you’ll walk away from the experience with bloodshot eyes, excessive drool, the feeling that your sinuses are on fire, and perhaps a few small sea creatures falling from your nose. But, if you’re anything like me, you’ll wait until the cover of darkness to do it again the very next day.

Yes, I formed a neti pot habit. Each night, careful not to disturb B’s peaceful bear-like slumber, I bit my lip and silently endured as the contents of the Gulf of Mexico–oil spill and all–rushed through my sinuses and into the sink.

Several days later when B complained of allergy symptoms, I handed him my neti pot and ducked out of the room before he could see my evil grin. After several minutes I heard him squeal and toss out a few choice words followed by a series of violent snorting sounds and another string of choice words, and I knew he’d discovered the joys of the neti pot dousing. He emerged from the bathroom a while later, exclaiming something I’m going to take the liberty of editing down to “That was awful and painful!”

Clearly, he hadn’t done a test run before his first encounter with the neti.

You’ve been warned.

The WTF Bottle: Iron Man Has One.

A couple years ago I threw out all of our old plastic sports bottles and stopped buying bottled water. Then I went online and ordered two of these, the Kor One hydration vessels.

I felt good about donating a portion of my purchase to an environmental cause. I also liked the fact that the clear blue canister would definitely encourage me to drink more water. I’m visual. I see food; I am hungry. I see water; I am thirsty. I see prettily packaged food or water, and I need it. Put a dead rat inside one of these bottles and I might still salivate over it; that’s how bad I am. Okay NO, that’s gross, but anyway you get my point. (Please don’t serve me a dead rat to try to get me to prove it.)

When B saw the shipping forms we had to have a discussion about why it was appropriate for me to spend $60 on a set of water bottles. When the argument that water always tastes better when it looks like it came from a clear, crystal blue ocean didn’t work, I may or may not have argued that I bought the bottles in an effort to prevent any BPA-induced testicle shrinkage on his part. *ahem*

I hoped B would carry his Kor One bottle and become as enthusiastic about hydration as I was. He carried it for a few weeks and then stopped, claiming that he was bothered by all the random comments he got every time he carried it to work. Whatever! I still carried my pretty blue Kor bottle every day. I even took advantage of the “stone” feature of the bottle to write my own chuckle-worthy motivational message, for when my workouts turned intense and I felt like wimping out and going home early: Never give up. Never surrender.

People are strangely captivated by the Kor bottle. I’ve had many people remark at how “cool” it looks and ask where I got it, and I’ve had even more people stop me to ask exactly what my Kor bottle is. When I first carried it to work, a few of the mechanical engineers in my building started cracking jokes about how I was carrying around a missing piece of one of the planes they were building. Then the jokes spread and other people asked questions, stopping me constantly to ask “WTF is that?”

WTF is it? Why, it’s the WTF bottle!

When I changed jobs and moved into another department of the company, my new coworkers wanted to ask questions about the bottle too. This group took it to a whole new level by calling my WTF bottle a nuclear whatsitwhoseit or a subatomic particle smashing thingamajig. And they kept it up. And they repeated their jokes five thousand times. And then more people caught on and used the water bottle as an awkward conversation starter. One day when somebody remarked at how difficult it seemed it would be to take the top off the WTF bottle and somebody else misheard the words “take your top off,” a whole new round of (awkward and inappropriate) jokes was born.

I’ve moved on from that job, too, and still the comments continue on a regular basis. The latest was this evening at the gym, when a guy followed me to ask “What is that thing?” while he pointed to my hands. Since I happened to be juggling my car keys, a bosu ball, and a pair of hand weights at the same time I was carrying the bottle, it took a few seconds to register. Then it hit me: Of course! He wants to know about the WTF bottle!

So if you’re feeling lonely and blue and you just want someone to say “hello” “WTF is that thing you’re drinking out of?” or make awkward sexual references at your expense, you should purchase a Kor One hydration vessel. It’ll make you popular overnight.

Don’t believe me? Ask Tony Stark.

LoveSac: WTF?

Tonight during my usual random website wanderings I found something kind of odd.

First, there’s the GamerSac. Dude’s chillin’ out on his super cool bean bag chair, drinking a beer and thinking he’s hot stuff because 1. he’s underage and 2. some hot chicks are standing in his doorway. Clearly, since there’s nowhere to sit, they’re there to tell him he’s got the volume turned up too high and they’re tired of having to listen to The Legend of Zelda through the thin walls of the dorm.

Go away, girls! I’m beating Ganon!

Next, we have the CitySac. So we’re really driving home the point that cool people who play lots of video games would love to have one of these chairs. And boy, does this guy look like a zombie he’s having fun. Sacs In The City sounds like the title of the world’s most boring p*rn.

I’m so glad college is over. The only time anyone interrupts me now is when Mom yells down that dinner’s ready.

So we move on to the PillowSac modeled by Blondie Longlegs, the girl next door. This version of the LoveSac is definitely not bachelor pad material, boys. It’s probably what the hotties from the GamerSac photo lounge on next door when they paint their toenails [and do other stuff]. It’s versatile, as our model demonstrates.

This one’s not for gaming.

Moving on. Next, we introduce the MovieSac. Doesn’t this girl look really happy to be falling off the side of the chair that her man is so obviously hogging? Perhaps the tagline should instead read “Seats 1.5 Movie-Lovers or One Large Chair-Hog”.

Notice that the world “comfortably” doesn’t appear in the description.

“What’s that, honey? I’m crowding you? Oh, all right, we can buy a bigger LoveSac. Let’s upgrade to the SuperSac!” That’s great and all, but he’s still a chair hog and she’s already a bit fed up.

“No seriously, get OFF me!”

“Are you happy now? We’ve upgraded to the BigOne. This is it, babe. There’s no upgrading after this one.”

“Hey, left nut!”   “Yeah, right nut?”

To which she responds through gritted teeth, “Why do you invite your idiot friend over every time we decide to hang out in our living room? Oh jeez; he just farted again and he thinks it’s funny. I hate my life. Thanks, LoveSac.”

The New Windex

Remember the Windex thing from My Big Fat Greek Wedding?

Ladies and gentlemen, we now have a replacement for Windex. It’s called Vetericyn, and it waltzed into our home in B’s hand a couple of weeks ago when he returned from a conference in Portland. I knew our lives had been changed when the second thing he did after entering the house–after giving me a hug and a kiss–was to present the blue bottle of liquid and spritz a little bit of it at my face. When I recoiled in shock he launched into a list of reasons why the miracle spray is wonderful and how he justified spending $25 on the small bottle of saline water.

He figured I was going to give him trouble for his purchase, so he waved the bottle close in front of my face for me to see one of the most important reasons why Vetericyn was a necessary addition to our medicine cabinet.

I zoomed in and here’s what I saw:

Yes, that’s a llama.

That’s when I became sold on it, I’ll admit. Before, it was just a purported cure-all. Now, though, I know it’s safe for llamas, too. And that’s really all I need to know before I decide to add something to my medicine cabinet or the shelf where I store odd discoveries like Sylvester Stallone protein pudding.