Skip the guilt, pass the mash-potatoes please

It’s the same thing every year. To the point where I truly have a love-hate relationship with my television and the programming it gives me. My wife and I don’t have any children so I guess having both internet and TV is like having kids (in a way). One minute your so disappointed in them (BAD! TV & INTERNET! BAD!) that you swear your going to kick them permanently out of your home, and next thing you know they bring you (where I actually mean me in this case) kittens, puppies, science fiction, and absolutely no signs of Miley Ray Cyrus twerking while smoking pot.

Local news and the demented newscasters who appear on TV are the absolute worst. Anyone who has to look good on camera, be heavyhearted because of today’s fresh hell of tragedies, then in a blink of an eye brighten up with a story of a penguin who is using its body to shelter homeless seal pups who ‘s mommy and daddy died has to have some personality and mental issues.

Once again, right on time the demented newscasters start with the “eating with moderation”, holiday diet, turkey can kill you, why mash-potatoes are dangerous, cranberry’s are really terrorists, gravy causes cancer, dressing is really an alien ploy to take over your mind, please please let us find every reason in the world for you to feel guilty for actually enjoying a meal with your loved ones (if you can).

Let’s just say we skip the guilt, and pass the mash-potatoes please. Not everybody has a home, not everybody has family to be with, and some even have to spend thanksgiving in the hospital, in prison, in another country defending your freedom to watch football or 24 hours of “A Christmas Story”. Let’s just be thankful for what blessings we have and remember despite all the efforts your momma’s sweet potato pie may be making to clog your arteries that there is always someone who is going through something you could never imagine.

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The Next Time You Get Roped (Guilted) Into Being Nominated For (& Accepting) “The Shine On Award” Make Sure You Read The Teleprompter And Stick Your “Prepared” Acceptance Speech

 
You WON! TADA!

You WON! TADA!

Its official, you blogging bloggers have officially blogged your way into my social networking consciousness. The ever so brilliant mind (or minds) behind Bumblepuppies Has taken it upon themselves to Honor (more like pester) me (here is the nomination The Shine On Award Insults My Intelligence ) with “The Shine On Award”. I am supposed share 7 things you don’t know about me and then further Nominate (obligate) other bloggers so the award is more like the song that never ends.

Here goes:

#1. I am a metal head, born and raised. I firmly believe I am the few, if not the only teenager who would come home and ask my mom to turn down her loud music instead of the other way around.

#2. I studied (for only a year) at a bible college (back in the late 80’s) to be a full time minister. I finally came to the conclusion that being a minister as my full time career choice or occupation was not my calling. I did some street preaching on the streets of New York City, have preached several sermons, and even was the speaker (preacher?) at my great aunts Funeral. I learned some impromptu illusions (that illustrate the gospel) from the street preaching group, designed my own illusions (based on years and years of being interested in and practicing stage magic) and do a gospel magic act as “Mike The Magician” when I get a chance to perform.

#3. Magic Johnson is NOT my dad. I know this comes as a big shock, but Maury Povich did the DNA test, there was a fight between Stevie Wonder and Randy Macho Man savage and the once viral youtube video of the whole event was pulled after receiving a cease and diciest order from the estate of Claus Von Bulow

#4. Video killed the Radio star. Its true, tragic and the FBI still has a wanted poster, and a warrant out the capture and arrest for Video

#5. I am NOT the cats pajamas. I may be the cats feeder, poop scooper, personal furniture to lay on, bringer of mysterious silver cans that food appears from but I am certainly not the pajamas

#6. I think my wife is a mime. She wears black leotards, pretends she’s trapped in a big glass box all the time, and refuses to talk about it

#7. Both a Chia pet and a goldfish died under my care back in the 90’s. There is still a ongoing investigation behind the matter

Now here is my chance to further Nominate (obligate) other Bloggers. They super fantastic blogs and if you feel otherwise I will have no choice except to challenge you to a watermelon seed spitting contest.

I Don’t Get It A really cool blog written by a really cool person. I love the pictures and images she finds and posts. Here is the latest article/blog (as of this date) posted: Total Yodel Recall

The Dim Wit Diary I just recently discovered this blogger. He’s a dimwit, and I am a weirdo so I guess weirdo’s and dimwits are so much alike (but not totally) that we gravitate to the same strange universe. Here is the latest blog:
Facebook odds and ends volume two

Lifebeyondexaggeration
A Truly awesome blog that is so much worth the read. The crazy real adventures will truly stun and amaze you. Here is the latest entry:
U Turn

StrawberryQuickSand This awesome Aussie tells such great stories that an American bloke like me feels like I just went on a trip around the world every time I read an entry like this one:
Will You Go Out With Me To A Beach Boys Concert

The Jogging Dad He’s a dad, he jogs, he blogs. Jogging and running is not my thing, but I like the fact he’s a dad who makes the time to jog and blog (normally not at the same time). He has a great positive perspective despite all those invisible zombies chasing him (why else would you run?). Here is latest running blog: One Day On A Treadmill

Ben’s Bitter Blog Bitter disappointment, loneliness, desperation, anxiety, and bitter bitter sarcasm awaits just a click away. If you hate happy sappy plastic flaky smiley people then Ben has the right bitter pill for you to take:
Bitter Apathetic Lazy Telekenetic Pictures Or Bitter Pictures Of The Week

Kevin Hellriegel’s Blog Of Worthless Advice Despite the fact Kevin has a restraining order against me from ever darkening his corner of World Of Warcraft ever again. I personally feel there are no real hard feelings (on my part at least) about the fake troll under the bridge incident and when I am really in need of the absolute worst, worthless, and truly useless advise I contact my attorney and read Kevin’s blog anyway:
How To Keep The Inmates Happy Teaching Your Children Good Manners

(WordPress Weekly-writing-challenge) “The French Bread” gets a surprise Visit

Gustav and Hans Hard at work

Gustav and Hans Hard at work

(http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2013/06/03/weekly-writing-challenge-1000-words-three/comment-page-1/#comment-195007)

Finally, after years of hard work Gustav, and Hans received word that a Major well known world class chef was going to dine at, and review their restaurant. Five years of hard work, attention to every detail, and social media marketing has led to this once in a lifetime opportunity.

Sally was hired a year ago to be the official “Social Media Food Guru” and helped Gustav, and Hans both understand the impact and importance of social networking. Before long she was blogging, WordPressing, Facebooking, tweeting, and making connections with Michael Symon, Bobby Flay, Mario Batali, and the likes of Masaharu Morimoto.

Eventually “The French Bread” became the talk of the town and the internet. The truly transcendent meals, decadent deserts, and impeccable service was the absolute best business model that could have ever been devised. Business was so good that the large demand from the public actually forced them to have to turn away customers during dinner hours.

The funny thing though about social networking, and not keeping a more diligent control over what “accidentally” drops into both your email in-box and spam folder is what can really make a large difference between being in contact with a world class chef and a Muppet.

swedish1

The “Swedish Chef” certainly deserves respect as a “World Class Chef”, but in hindsight (and careful review of events in the past) there was no due diligence put into who the Chef’s “Plus one” was going to be, and further more who and what entailed as “accompanying party” that would come along.

What is known after all the confusion, mayhem, food flinging, steak juggling, ceiling fan riding, fryer cannonball contest, poultry (both real and Muppet) puppet show, “spaghetti western” (don’t ask), pancake eating contest, waffle eating contest, patron heckling (gosh those old guys are annoying), some “animal” eating most of the major utensils, overall shenanigans, and the eventual burning down of “The French Bread” is that a character who is known as the “Great Gonzo” was indeed the linchpin to the whole string of events.

Gonzo1

“The French Bread” does not hold “The Swedish Chef” accountable for any of the events and has put out a $10,000.00 reward for any information leading to the arrest of “Gonzo the great” and his band of Merry Muppet pals.

The inconvenience of convenience

English: The original Piggly Wiggly Store, Mem...

English: The original Piggly Wiggly Store, Memphis, Tennessee. The first self service grocery store, opened 1916. Français : Le premier supermarché Piggly Wiggly ouvert en 1916 à Memphis, Tennessee (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

What exactly has this world come to? I sat in front of my television and saw a commercial about a reality show where “old people” had to school younger people on how to use a paper map. Really?? has your smart phone made you that dumb? Yes I know your tempted to do origami or draw a huge X with crossbones and maybe a lovely topless mermaid. Been there, done that, fold section C and match it to sub section H, no wait that’s the end page to a Mad Magazine never mind.

I finally decide to get up and run some errands. We need some milk, orange juice (I prefer not to call it OJ ever since the real OJ went on a killing spree and led a parade down the LA freeway in a white bronco) and some toilet paper. Seems simple enough. I make my way to the grocery store, but before I full on commit to that task I need to put some gas into the car. I pull up, get out, and now I have to find my fuel discount barcode encrusted thingy hanging off my key chain. Henry’s garage & oil change? No I haven’t been to Eureka in such a long time.. .. mega movie rental?.. really?? do I still have that??.. Bab’s and Narcolepsy book store?, no.. Cardmart for when you want to send the very best alien greetings? no.. ah! Here it is! My Waltman, krogic, eagle, aldonic, hershy, savings & loan, fish market, grocery, mega sports, Indian casino, and fresh food market savings pass! (a light shines down from the police helicopter flying over head)

I step up to the gas pump and Ahhhhh!!! its talking to me! Holy crap! Its a commercial on a monitor in a cage bolted to the top of the pump. Really?? don’t I have enough commercials to contend with? Oh the irony, the talking head inside the cage on the monitor is talking about security. Maybe if I look away the talking head will leave me the heck alone.

Now comes the Indian Casino part. Now that I have taken the time to find my savings pass how much is it going to save me? Big money.. big money.. big money.. NO whammies!.. oh crap! 3 cents a gallon just for all of that? Now the talking head has changed and can message you the picture of the windshield technician straight to your phone. Um..creepy and no thanks.. just out of curiosity though if he messes up my windshield do I get to send a blurred out picture of a rude hand gesture back? Sure, it’s okay for you to have my personal info so you can send me more marketing and spam but I can’t have yours? Fail!

Finally its grocery store time. I have to steer clear of the girl scouts, cub scouts, honey ham mongers, burglar alarm sales geeks, old ladies selling flowers, old guys selling hats and flags, and one suspicious looking greasy bald guy selling what looks like old car parts. No thanks, no thanks, no thanks, gave at the bank, give me a break, outa my way baldy! Finally! I am inside! The angles sing! No wait.. that’s the local high school choir hitting me up for a donation..dang it! Sample lady, sample lady, overly friendly “shopping helper” , kid in a kart, kid in a kart, hot mom.. wait.. hot mom?.. hmmmm… I am sorry what was I doing again? Ms. Let me show you my cleavage distracted me (and that doesn’t take much) when bending over to put her pop into her kid infused kart. My wedding ring reaches up and smacks me back to the task on hand.

Milk, milk, lemonade, hey! Look the bakery where fudge is made! (homer impression) mmmmmmmmmm… fudge. I got milk, where’s the OJ? Oh shoot! I just called it OJ. White bronco, white bronco, misfitting glove section, knives, ah! Orange Juice! Tada! Oh crap.. its hot mom’s sister Ms Tattoo on cleavage and tramp stamp so that there is no safe place to rest your eyes is up ahead. Must avert kart to baby section and birth control section that will scare her off. Whew! I have never been so glad to see an older lady in orthopedic hose in my life. I am not sure what she’s doing in the baby section and I don’t have time for a round of 20 questions with Ms granny nanny here.

Toilet paper! Ah it was the next aisle over. Now I can make my way to the check out. Now here is where it gets really interesting: I have to jockey back and forth trying to choose which lane I can hopefully get through the fastest without having to have an obligatory awkward conversation with the grocery buying party in front or back of me. Oh Look! Its secret agent polo shirt person! You can tell he/she works there because of the matching dockers and polo shirt. They are secret agents because when not talking to you they are always talking into the hands free earpiece thingamabobs. A suggestion is made to use the self check out station.

Welcome! Ahhhh!! its talking to me also! Make it stop. Savings card thing again? Holy crap using this thing to save 3 cents a gallon is getting to be a chore. Beep! Scanned electronic dirt bag! “please put the item in the bag!” its in the bag douche bag!.. its just not on your stamp sized weight sensory whatever you call it. Oh geesh now secret agent polo shirt person has to either put in the NASA launch code or some kind of lets just get along code. “Please put the item in the bag” (clenches fist) “do you have any coupons?” are your serious?? “please take your receipt, your items and have a nice day” sure easy for you to say.

I finally get home with the items I intended and my wife says: “what took you so long?” I put items away, go into bedroom and promptly scream into a pillow.