Bricks, loads, and dumps

Turkey Composite

When the stress rises beyond the shrug off or the close your eyes until it goes away phase, I like to indulge in doing as little as possible. Somewhere deep in the cracked corners of my personality, I feel that by not interacting with the world, it can't possibly explode in my face. For instance, a bad day may decide to top itself when I come home to make dinner by ensuring that I char whatever meal I decide to prepare. Or perhaps it manifests its last stab of the day in a hilarious visual to accompany the song "Fire, Water, Burn". Either way, I decide that when these days come around and do what they do (no kiss) that I do as little as possible as not to aggravate whatever force is in charge of things like turning my car into a magnet for paint or making sure that I put a pair of pants on with underwear still stored in the leg. Inevitably, I discover it and yank it out in front of my entire staff after feeling that something was off and perhaps I had gained weight in my back knee area. So, tonight, after a day I shall never relate, I decided that I needed to stay away from the stove and get some drive thru dinner.

Feeling like a greasy and gluttonous manatee, I chose something with a comfort food feel. Yes, turkey and mashed potatoes. Sure, it's only like 6 or 7 bucks, but really - we are paying for convenience here.

I come home with my little baggie containing a cafeteria style divided plate and plastic covering and dig in. Potatoes, perfect for something that comes in flake form before you water to it. Veggies, not bad. Turkey. Is this turkey? It tastes, and sort of looks like, a wet washcloth. This isn't turkey! This is some kind of composite of gamey poultry and parts of other animals that were rejected from the hot dog factories.

I am a purist in a lot of senses. I like to have furniture made of wood, not pressed wood or composites of wood or cardboard with flecks of oak in it. I expect this kind of blended materials from, perhaps, construction paper- not from turkey.

Below the pie chart will demonstrate the complete oneness of the "bird" or "animals" I just consumed.

Who thought that when you blended all those ingredients together you'd get something that tasted like a down comforter after you put it through the washer?

It just goes to show; on bad days, just stay in bed and don't move.

Worst.Cookie.Ever. (H)

Below is a scanned fortune I got after opening my fortune cookie. This is real, folks.


I wish this wasn't actually my life...

i is for idiot

Why is my favorite MP3 skipping? I thought we created MP3s to end the mind splattering effects of skipping. Records skipped and scratched and made all sorts of womb-like noises when they warped. Tapes slowed down your favorite beat and garbled lyrics. When CDs skipped, it sounded like an epilepsy fit. When iTunes skips, it sounds like you've been duped. Duped into Dling and getting yourself into a net where Apple controls whose computer what files are played on, which tunes you are willing to fork cash over to get, and how to read your most intimate collection of life soundtracks. Seriously, the way it does all those creepy things subversively when you first get it can be frightening. It labels all your songs, does all this research without you knowing, bringing back full album artwork and categorizing your files. While it goes behind your back and arranges all of your personals to fit the patterns of their master music filing system, you are left with grandfather speeds of processing, leaving the skipping song to grind on your nerves.

Who trusts something this invading? I mean, now somewhere - there is an imprint of your account. For some reason, the identification of my bank card is less personal and offensive than the identification linked to my personal music.

Yea, I have heard the arguments: iTunes is awesome. iTunes syncs with your ipod (which I DO NOT own). iTunes labels everything and makes it easy for you to pay legally for your music. iTunes only updates all your crap once and that is it. iTunes forces you to start a sentence with a lowercase letter.

I personally don't think a matter of filing that a half dyslexic secretary could organize is any trade off for the privacy and right to keep your crap as messy and random as it once was on Windows Media Player.

EYEtunes is more like it.

Yea, I'm a hater.