Pumpkins, Porn, and Pesto

I'd be lying if I said I experienced all of those in the last twenty-four hours, but it's close. I was just reading over my last entry and realized that's what happens when you have a few drinks and you come home to your iTunes playing My Girl. What a jam. The sad thing is, not even I know what the Hell the rest of that entry is referencing.

I can also tell you that when you eat nearly an entire container of Edy's Pumpkin Ice Cream your head gets all warm, or at least mine does, unless it's the slow release of poisonous pesto from Quizno's. I like pumpkin when it comes to pie but frequently find it overdone with a lot of things. When things are labeled pumpkin, they're generally more just excessively cinnamony, and sometimes too much in the way of cloves, but I was diggin' this. It was the perfectly melted consistency from the short walk from the grocery. Unfortunately, and I can't tell you what in ice cream production accounts for this property (probably just simple rules of melting), the outsides turned to mush while the inside remained firm, resulting in a rotating cylinder of over-packed ice cream. Still, I just dug around the edges with some broccoli (truth) and pita chips (salt + sweet = awesome). I am intrigued by the potential for perhaps combining this with Guinness and/or Bailey's but right now I wish my head weren't so damn hot. No room here to discuss pumpkin beer.

The last order of business is viewing porn in public libraries. Yes, I am making the distinction of public because some peoplehave their own libraries. Hell, technically, just a bunch of books in your bedroom constitutes your library, but I am talking some fancy shit with a whole room or more dedicated to books 1800s-style. I like to kick it at the big-time public library when I can, but I'll stay local when I don't have additional downtown business to attend to. I like to go upstairs to the adult and fiction/literature section. Lo-and-behold it is indeed the adult section as I have not once, but twice, noted an old dude (at least in his mid-40s, which isn't that old, but age isn't really the point here) viewing some form of fetish porn. Considering I a) was reprimanded for having a water bottle in the library, b) was reprimanded for removing my shoes in the library, and c) was reprimanded for briefly napping at a desk in the library (and it was not crowded), I find it rather amazing that this guy is able to go about his business on a regular basis. And maybe it's as simple as that, that he's much more of a regular.

But now I've gotta go to get away from it all, perhaps to Kokomo...

Back to Work...Slave

Having recovered in large part from leg surgery, I jumped on a 6:30am train and made my way into the office for the first time in precisely five weeks. One can get used to working from home, let me tell you. There is a certain solitude on the 6:30am train as opposed to my more rotuine 7:47am. Certainly the train was less crowded, and it was also one of those relatively spankin' new double-deckers. As it was, at Secaucus, the last stop before New York, an oafish fellow sat down next to me, despite many other open seats. Brief disclaimer: I expect to sit next to people on a commuter train during peak hours, I just ask that you not be a jerk or, in this case, smell like baby food vomit and old diapers. Maybe it wasn't this guy giving off the scent, but circumstantial evidence points in (draws stench lines emanating from) his direction. Man sits down next to me, bad smell ensues. Perhaps not causal, but certainly corollary.


Ridiculously cute bunny for pretty much no reason. Photo credit: The GF.

I was in the freezer section of my local grocer the other day and I always have to see if there is ice cream on sale. My brand of choice is Edy's or Dreyer's, depending on your coast. And while they are my favorite ice cream from the freezer section, they have gone the way of Dannon yogurt, and decreased their package size and kept prices the same. Ice cream drop-off was from 1.75 to 1.5 quarts (~14%), not as significant as the the yogurt drop from 8 to 6 oz (25%). I don't know if companies think this is clever and people don't notice but I NOTICE. In this case it's actually just as well, as I tend to eat containers in one-to-four sittings, so my arteries are probably thankful to not be flowing with as much ice cream, but still. The cost of everything is going up, and while that is a bummer for those of us without boatloads of expendable income, all I'm saying is, don't try to lie to me about it. You can't pull the wool over my eyes, unless it's cashmere, because otherwise that shit is just so itchy.

In medical irony news, you know how at the end of commercials they always give those disclaimers about the possible side effects of the medication and how you should ask your doctor? With the pleasant female or male voice, meant to be soothing, probably so that you're not like, "oh shit, this might cure my diarrhea but cause internal bleeding and memory loss? Oh man, and maybe rectal bleeding? Not again..." This is where I should insert a great link to one of said commercials, but a prime example is escaping me. The point is, the potential side effects always strike me as way worse than whatever it is they're supposed to be curing. Maybe it's not perfectly ironic in every case, but this Elidel bit fits the bill. After all, Elidel is a prescription cream meant to deal with eczema but, according to that case, is being linked to skin cancer. Tough call, but I might choose eczema.


Also, I'm thinking I should learn Krav Maga. Sure I've been in pretty much zero fights in my life, but you never know.