Cuanto Cuesta?

Last night I had the strangest dream and it involved a bowl of Frosted Mini-Wheats. There was never any mystery about what percent milk I would need...It really wasn't that strange, but the only detail I remember was the bowl sitting there on my kitchen counter, on an inexorable march toward sogginess.

This entry's going to be rather link-heavy, so apologies if that bothers you, and your welcome if that's your sort of thing. Now the following apparently took place some time ago, but since it was pointed out to me only a couple of days ago, I will share it with you all. It is an incident of what I consider to be clear cheating an episode of Price is Right. I used to watch this show pretty religiously in the summer, in middle school in particular. It was my reason to awake by 11am. Drew Carey as a host is tough to take. I really think they should have handed the job off to me. I could use the money a little more than dear old Drew, but then so could a lot of people.

The next links are kind of my favorite and are all courtesy of my buddy Tom. In the late 1970s, there was no Nintendo Wii, and there was no internet for porn, so those things had to be combined. There was the Atari 2600 and, thanks to the folks at Mystique, a perfect trifecta of outrageous pornographic concept games:



Bachelor Party



Beat 'Em and Eat 'Em



Custer's Revenge

I won't bother to summarize those or anything since wikipedia covers it in quite excellent fashion. "Custer's Revenge" is definitely my favorite, as it is closest to the absurdity and hilarity dating back to when a buddy of mine was sent an Oregon Trail -inspired pornographic story. Inspiration doesn't do it justice, as the format was adopted pretty accurately. There I was thinking the girl who had written it was a pioneer...

To close out I just have to remark on a couple of song similarities that my ear has picked up on in the last day or two. Feel free to agree or disagree. The first is the clear influence of Hall and Oates's "You Make My Dreams Come True" on the Ducktales theme. Though Hall and Oates came first from what I know, I still give the point to Ducktales.

After that, take a moment to observe the common riffs between Morrissey's "First of the Gang to Die" and Yellowcard's "Inside Out." Point
Morrissey.

And now, back to your regularly scheduled programming...

Pooparoni

Some people say they would give you the shirt off their back. I like to think I am one of them, one reason being that I have done it before, but also because I am so damned sweaty that a shirt is a waste of time for me. By token of this very same virtue, you may not want the shirt I am offering. This has always been abundantly clear to me and I'm sure I've stated it before, but I never said I wasn't redundant.

In line with redundancy, one might say I made the same calculated error on back-to-back evenings in consuming pepperoni pizza. Rarely in my lifetime have I consumed this Jew-forbidden meat, but I admit to its salted deliciousness. In discovering this, I also discovered its propensity for giving me heartburn, especially the day after. Though I successfully dodged this bullet after Sunday evening consumption, a repeat performance Monday was not to be had. This is not entirely accurate, as I did not suffer heartburn, merely burn in another arena. And no, I did not mean area. Inaccuracy abounds as it may not have been the pepperoni but, in fact, the undercooked cheese, of which there was a great quantity, and the undercooked dough. Mmmmmm...

While I seem to pay quite often for the substances I choose to ingest, the opposite appears true regarding one of my old high school teammates. Probably standing 5'5" and weighing in at something like a buck-twenty-five, this monstrosity manages to consume frightening quantities of booze and gut-rending munchies. When people discuss eating and drinking prowess, it is easy to remain skeptical without proof, but I would say his newly launched blog is reasonable proof. I'd use his name, but I like the mystery of things like eyes blocked out with photoshop paint that is a theme on said blog.

In other news, it wouldn't hurt for it to get a little less hot and humid up in this mother. I must choose my days for wearing khaki shorts very carefully as swamp-ass is a foregone conclusion. Admitting this may seem a bit gross, but when the telltale miniature heart-shape of damp becomes visible on the lower ass of my shorts to anonymous real-life humans, why not share it with anonymous internet ones as well.

Anyway, the face of the girl sitting at around 10 o'clock from me is really starting to piss me off so I've got to shuttle out of here. I can only fight the urge to laugh like a maniac or pour coffee onto her computer/face for so long. I think I watched too much negative stand-up last night! I need to study up on Einstein's Theory of Negativity...Plus I'm really hungry. Happy Wednesday!