I’d like to get a sous vide machine (immersion circulator) and then I can sous vide all the things. But the problem is that I can imagine a situation where the following happens:
Daughter: “Dad, corn flakes don’t need to be sous vide.”
Me: “You don’t know that.”
It’s father’s day. And that means my brain goes to Cake Wrecks which had a series of cakes for father’s day that included an epic cake spelling “error.” I can only tell you that today (technically the day before Father’s day) my daughter Abby presented me with this:
She’s not wrong.
Some time ago – back when I lived in Texas – I had food allergies and was allergic to wheat. One day my co-workers decided that we should go to Subway for lunch and I went along. When we got there I saw their sign advertising that they’d turn any sandwich into a salad. I really like philly cheesesteak, so I decided that ordering that cheesy goodness on a salad was worth the awkwardness. Once the salad was paid for I sat down and chuckled to myself. My co-worker Blader asked what I was laughing about and I told him that if I came back I’d order the meatball sub because that would be ridiculous. We laughed and moved onto other conversation.
The next day someone asked, “Where do you want to go to lunch?,” and Blader quickly answered, “Let’s go to Subway. Randy needs to order the meatball salad.” So we went. As I approached the counter I said, “This is going to sound weird but I’d like to order the meatball sub as a salad.” The guy didn’t skip a beat when he replied, “That’s OK, yesterday some person ordered a philly cheesesteak as a salad.”
Bacation, is a vacation with lots of bacon! Make today your national Bacation day! Thanks to my friend Joe for sharing this holiday with us!
From Joe:
Took the day off to hang with the folks who came into town this weekend and in simple celebratory discussion with my bro, we decided to coin the weekend “bacation”. One part bacon, two parts vacation! You can do it too, simply add bacon to any celebratory meal and wah-la “bacation” is born!!
I went and got my hairs cut Saturday. I walked in, put my name on the list, and waited for a hair cutress. I don’t think that’s the job title that they prefer, but it seems appropriate this early in the morning. She asked me if I wanted my normal buzzcut, but that’s not what I got last time, so I told her I wanted to keep my part, but I just needed my hair shorter. As she turned to get tools out of her cabinet she asked, “So you want a comb over?”
What I heard was, “So you don’t want a comb over?” I thought she was joking because in my mind a comb over is for balding men hiding baldness. I’m a balding man embracing baldness. I’m not that bald, I’m also not that ‘thick’ up front any more.
So she began trimming and all was well until the clippers went zipping through major parts of the hair I thought my prescribed haircut needed. I was surprised, but I think I hid it pretty well. She finished and I paid and then called Jessica on the way out of the parking lot (on speaker phone, Trint) to let her know I did not get the haircut she was expecting. That way she could have time to prepare for this:
Ma Hairzes
As an organ donor I’m considering writing a letter to any recipients of organs I may donate at some point in time. It would go something like:
To whomever gets my giblets,
I’m sorry that you have been picked to receive these innards. They have not served me as well as I hoped and sometimes I get weird digestive issues. If you got my heart, you’re in luck! I’ve been using it without issue (so far – unless I died of a heart attack). If you got my lungs, Sweet! I love my lungs. I’ve never smoked and I’ve limited my second hand smoke to a minimum. If you got my pancreas… well, at least you get one.
I’d suggest that if you got any part of my digestive tract, though, that you ask for an immediate refund. This system is only a B- grade system at best. It has weird allergies, it generates enough gas to contribute to the ozone hole, and it also has characteristics VERY similar to a bottomless pit. If you do keep it, stay far, far away from jalapeno’s. Trust me.
Yours truly,
The previous owner
Say, how fast is a “jiffy” lube change supposed to take? Is there a checkbox, note field or option somewhere for me to tell my local franchise/store/location/entity that I want to not be delayed radically by car repairman theatrics? I just want to drive up, have them swap out old petroleum bi-products with new petroleum bi-products and send me off in what I think a jiffy is. I’m not trying to complain, but it feels like it takes twice as long as needed because we have to go through the whole, “Your air filter looks like it could be replaced, do you want us to extort some more money?,” process.
Every oil change place seems to take longer than it should because of this. It doesn’t matter if I’m getting Penn-soil, Quacker Stat, or STD oil – even at Walmart – something is weird. I’m pretty sure that a place that allowed customers to feel like they weren’t being messed with would do exceedingly well.
Some friends are moving to Cal-e-fornia from Tejas. I don’t know why, but apparently they want to move from where it is hot and humid to where it is hotter and humidor. That being said, I wrote a very quick ditty to celebrate this wonderful opportunity. You may listen to it below:
Disclosure: I was born in California, this song is, like almost all of my work, tongue-in-cheek.
Jessica and I were having a very brief discussion about a new movie that is out and I said that the male lead was described as a stud by someone who saw the movie. The 9yo walked by and said, “A stud is a piece of a lego.”
Yes, yes it is.
Time for a euphemism lesson? I think not.
This morning on the way to school Jessica asked the girls what we should do while some friends come into town this summer. Abby replied, “Let’s go to the art museum!”
Jessica suggested that not everyone might enjoy the art museum because not everyone is like us in the things they enjoy.
Abby: “yeah, we’re a nerd family.”
Evie asked, “We’re nerds?”
Abby: “Yeah, and it’s cool!”
I’m such a proud dad 🙂