Let's roll some dice, watch some movies, or generally just geek out. New posts at 6:30 pm ET but only if I have something to say. Menu at the top. gsllc@chirp.enworld.org on Mastodon and @gsllc on Twitter.
Here’s something I haven’t done since the late 90s: Baked a cake.
The top layer is French vanilla, the bottom layer is triple chocolate fudge, and the icing is milk chocolate icing. I even did the same thing with a few cupcakes I was able to make with leftover batter. Surprisingly, the layers came out well in the cupcakes.
There might be a cupcake missing.
I don’t really celebrate my birthday, but I knew I’d have to break my diet today anyway, so I went all in. I think is shows how long it’s been since I did this . . .
TL;DR: Walkers makes potato crisps. They had a promotion where you could win a prize if you found a heart-shaped crisp in one of their bags. Everyone is supposed to carefully eat their crisps, pick out the heart-shaped ones, and one person with the best-shaped one would win the prize.
Now, I know what you’re thinking. “They’re ‘chips,’ not ‘crisps’! And it’s called, ‘soccer’!” Yes, I know the Brits should all be blasted into space for all their egregious mangling of our language, but that’s not my current concern. These stories are probably not the only ones. This has probably happened to quite a few people, and even more that don’t realize they ate one. This was predictable, leading me to speculate they were hoping everyone would screw up and eat the heart-shaped chips so that Walkers never had to pay out the £100,000 ($120,183.50).
No, the chips don’t weigh 100,000 lbs. It’s just more English nonsense.
I, for one, would be pissed off if this happened to me. I could do a lot with that money.
Walkers should pay me $120,183.50 for this advertisement.
Sundays now are lazy days for me. I either post something silly or other people’s work. Usually both. Today, I’m finishing up my annual 6 day, 5-night trip to the Midwest (Ft. Wayne, IN) with dinner at Portillo’s, and that makes me miss Chicago even more. However, there’s always good reason to miss Chicago. They produce the best pizza and give the best linguistic advice.
Oh, and my friends. Yeah, they’re pretty good too.
Okay, not really. How can it be a gift if the receiver paid for it? Because I’m both, it’s just me buying shit.
Yeah, I know.
But here it is!
It’s an overpriced tumbler (duh!) with ancient Egyptian imagery. As a mythology nut, I love imagery from ancient cultures, and this is some of the good stuff.
I was in my local Harris Teeter grocery store the other day and something caught my eye.
Holy crap! St. Elmo’s is one of my favorite restaurants in the country, and one of the reasons is its renown cocktail sauce. This is . . . .
Wait a second! There’s no cocktail sauce here!
But that’s not all. I work with a title company, which is basically an insurance agent for insurance related to real property ownership. We have an underwriter, and they sent us holiday treats. However, very few of us were interested in anything beyond the one package of chocolate truffles.
It’s a lot of stuff, but this is representative of the majority of it:
Artichokes? Who are they? My mother? It is the kind of thing she’d torture me with, so that checks out.
This is where you say, “Awwwwwww. Poor Rob.”
First world problems.
Follow me on Twitter @gsllc Follow St. Elmo’s Steakhouse @stelmo
I will never apologize for a gratuitous Star Trek reference, however forced it may be.
Well, my post for this evening was accidentally scheduled for 6:30 am ET, so it went out before I got out of bed. No worries. I’m just throwing this one in as a follow up to provide proof of eating my first tacos in at least 17 years. That’s right. A patent issuing on the day I last had a taco has already expired.
I will never apologize for a gratuitous intellectual property law reference, however forced it may be.
But you need proof, so here it is.
When I saw the menu, the tacos were loaded with beef, so I didn’t think to order extra beef. What I got was rather light on the details. As a result, I had to eat some more when I got home.
But don’t worry (why would you even care?). The fact that these are from Taco BHell doesn’t guarantee that I’ll wait another 17 or so years before eating them again. Cheese will. Also, there’s one annoying thing about eating tacos that I had long forgotten: Take one bite, and the shell collapses. I had to shove them into my face, or everything would have fallen into my lap as I was eating. That’s a buzzkill because to me a taco isn’t a taco without crunch. If you eat soft tacos, there’s something wrong with you. Just eat a burrito or enchilada. There’s nothing wrong with that, but those aren’t tacos. Nothing with a soft shell is.
It bears repeating, but he’s wrong for including hard shell stuff.
I’ll still probably eat tacos before today’s patents expire, just not from Taco BHell.
And no, they’re not authentic Mexican food. Who cares, Francis?
I honestly can’t tell you the last time I had a taco. I can tell you the last time I tried. In 2004 or 2005, a bunch of us were flying to Miami for my older brother’s bachelor party in Key West. We made a stop on the way to the airport, and there was a Taco Bell nearby. A few of us were hungry, so we stopped in and ordered food. As the last one to order, I paid expecting everyone to pay me back. As soon as he found out I had paid for everything, my brother, being the asshole he is, said we were in a hurry, and if I didn’t leave right now, he’d leave me there. (I’m a picky eater, probably due to lingering childhood food allergies or pressure to eat, and my family would often use food to torture me as a child.) Tacos aside, deciding to go on the trip was my mistake. I should have said, “Okay,” and let him leave. But I didn’t. I acquiesced, and of course no one paid me back.
That clearly leaves a bad taste in my mouth (so to speak), but the reason I don’t eat tacos — or Mexican food generally — is because, other than mozzarella and parmesan, I hate cheese. As any cheese hater can tell you, an order requesting no cheese on something that usually has cheese rarely comes back as ordered. I have no problem peeling the cheese off of a turkey club, but if the food is hot, you can’t just peel away the cheese. As someone who hates to waste food or make a server’s life harder on them, I won’t order anything hot that generally comes with cheese. Ergo, if I go to a Mexican restaurant, the only thing I can order are fajitas. Even tamales, which I love (and recently had), tend to come with cheese even if the menu doesn’t mention it. Consequently, if I’m not in the mood for fajitas, Mexican food is out, but in any event, tacos are out.
It’s all the same, and it all has cheese.
So, here we are on Taco Tuesday at least 17 years since my last taco, and I’ve decided to break that fast. I’m having tacos for dinner, and I’ll probably go to Taco Bell. I’m a picky eater but not a snobby eater. What I hate, I won’t eat, and what I like, I like even if it’s low quality. Taco Bell is good enough for me.
Well, I’m not so much criticizing the food as I am the service. I’m writing this on 4/5/2022. I’m on the carnivore diet this week, so this was as good a time as any to try out the Zaxbys in my new neighborhood. I knew this was fast food going into it, but I was told that it’s “good fast food,” so I didn’t expect to be terribly disappointed. Oh, well.
First off, I ordered it “for here.”
See an issue? Well, okay. That’s fine. It’s not as if this affected the quality of the food; however, it does show how much the staff bothers to get things right. Next, what’s missing?
I’ll give you a hint: There’s no fork. I had to “mama’s little piggy” this. Okay, not really. I just had to ask for one. It’s not as if this affected the quality of the food; however, it does show how much the staff bothers to get things right. Okay, last thing. Here’s my receipt.
Does the price seem reasonable? For 10 fast-food bites? Probably not, but I’ll tell you what makes it worse: That $2.59 drink? Water. I ordered water. And they charged me $2.59 for a water.
Sorry, not sorry, Zaxbys, but I have a crazy thing (as in “genuine psychological problem”) about first impressions. If you do me right the first time we meet, I’ve got your back forever. If you do me wrong, you’re dead to me.
Food critics are a weird thing. I hate mushrooms, so no matter how good you think a brand of mushrooms are, you can’t convince me to eat them. So what’s the point of food critics? What do they really offer us?
My favorite dessert by far is key lime pie. When I saw these limited edition key lime pie Kit-Kats, I just knew I had to buy some. However, they’re tough to find, so my only option was EBay. This is the most I’ve ever spent on a candy bar, but it wasn’t too bad.
My verdict?
For a brief moment, I’m convinced my life was better than all of yours. Sadly, this is something you’ll have a hard time finding yourself. Get ’em while they still exist.
Play What You Want 