“Do not eat frozen pizza.”
Right - good tip. Another good tip would be, “Drinking boiling water will burn.”
Also, you should “remove the wrapper before baking. “
Seems ridiculous, really. Or does it? In a time when P. Diddy is being sued for one TRILLION dollars for being responsible for 9/11 (Google it) one would think that the frozen pizza company who thoughtfully affixed these warnings was protecting is pepperoni covered ass.
I don’t think so. I think people can be really stupid. And far from being engaged enough to file a lawsuit, they might actually wonder why the pizza they plucked out of the frozen food aisle and bit into (with the wrapper on) was cold and hard (like Dick Cheney’s heart) and not warm and cheesy (like Bill Clinton’s) like they see on TV.
It’s reasonable to assume that if you are smart enough to buy a frozen pizza, you are able to identify the difference between foods that require cooking and those that don’t. But if this were the case, there would be no need to tell the consumer. No, I don’t think the pizza company was worried about lawsuits, I think they have a handle on the stupidity that can pervade our society.
“Do you think anyone would be foolish enough to eat this without cooking it?” asks pizza executive number one.
“I absolutely do,” says pizza exec number two.
“You don’t think they will realize that it’s frozen and that it should be hot?”
“You willing to bet your 401(k) on that?”
“You’re right,” says number one as he picks up his phone. “Larry? Hey there. We decided - get the warning on there. What? Yeah, put the one on about the wrapper too.”
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Moldova Is Drunker Than Us - Break Out the Beer Bong
Do you know where Moldova is? Neither do I. What I do know is that somehow, this little known Republic has managed to drink itself to the top of the World Health Organization’s list of drunkest countries in the world. So what, you say, America has got to be in the top ten. After all, you religiously drink your glass of red wine with dinner. Nope, that is reserved for countries like Estonia (5) and Andorra (7) (do you know where THAT is?) But surely, we Jägerbomb drinkin’ patriots are in the top twenty. Nope. We are behind Korea (12) and Denmark (16).
Despite leading the world in intoxicated reality TV stars, we fall squarely into the fifty-seventh spot; after the U.S. Senate and Snoop’s house.
This is an unmitigated travesty. If the thought that Sarah Palin may run for President is not enough to have you knocking back a fifth of Jack Daniels every twenty-four hours, what is?
This is merely a question of motivation. It’s time to stop smelling wine and acting like you give a shit about acidity and tannins and just drink it. Stop worry about calories in your beer and whether it is a subtle hefe-ice-mango-low carb craft brew and shotgun the bastard (in fact, shotgun the entire case). Drink whiskey from the bottle and vodka over ice.
Together, in the words of our beer-summit president himself, we can “Win The Future.” If we all pitch in and get good and drunk a little more often, we can hop right over Bulgaria into that coveted 25th position. Only then will Luxembourg (21) will be directly in our sights.
(Authors note: Moldova is a tiny landlocked country in Eastern Europe, located between Romania and Ukraine (6). They clearly have no problem with motivation.)
Despite leading the world in intoxicated reality TV stars, we fall squarely into the fifty-seventh spot; after the U.S. Senate and Snoop’s house.
This is an unmitigated travesty. If the thought that Sarah Palin may run for President is not enough to have you knocking back a fifth of Jack Daniels every twenty-four hours, what is?
This is merely a question of motivation. It’s time to stop smelling wine and acting like you give a shit about acidity and tannins and just drink it. Stop worry about calories in your beer and whether it is a subtle hefe-ice-mango-low carb craft brew and shotgun the bastard (in fact, shotgun the entire case). Drink whiskey from the bottle and vodka over ice.
Together, in the words of our beer-summit president himself, we can “Win The Future.” If we all pitch in and get good and drunk a little more often, we can hop right over Bulgaria into that coveted 25th position. Only then will Luxembourg (21) will be directly in our sights.
(Authors note: Moldova is a tiny landlocked country in Eastern Europe, located between Romania and Ukraine (6). They clearly have no problem with motivation.)
Sunday, February 13, 2011
The Case of the Vanishing (and Subsequent Return of the) Victoria's Secret Catalogue
I admit it; I am not above looking at my wife’s Victoria’s Secret catalogue. I enjoy flipping through its pages of lingerie that after fifteen years of marriage I am no longer permitted to buy. My wife contends that we really do not have the time for such things. Nonsense. For instance, we usually have a few minutes after dinner and before we do the dishes. Such suggestions are usually met with an incredulous sigh and, “is that all you think about?” Well, yes.
But yesterday, it wasn’t so much that I was looking at the VS catalogue, as much as we were looking FOR the VS catalogue. You see, our kids had some friends over (one of which just came in through the basement and up the stairs – and then into the pantry – all without knocking or otherwise acknowledging his entrance) for a sleepover. Now that they are older, this causes very little interruption in our day as long as we have sufficient cash on hand for pizza – and chicken, soda, chips and cookies – and a full box of waffles and several gallons of juice.
Anyway, I distinctly remember the VS catalogue residing on our kitchen table - where the boys were eating. For some reason, after they were finished and we had cleared the table with a front-end loader, it hit us that the catalogue was gone. This was not immediately troublesome since like most well organized homes, we have about thirty-two places in the kitchen alone that act as temporary holding places for mail, magazines, keys, cell phones, wallets and pens.
We were now missing five boys and one pseudo-soft-core porn magazine. Although I was chuckling inside, this is had to be dealt with. I’m savvy enough to know that the last thing I need is this turning up in someone’s bedroom and some mother seeing my wife’s name on it. Still, it required some tact, as twelve year old boys can be embarrassed when having to even acknowledge the very existence of parents, let alone one yelling into the game room, “Did you boys take the Victoria’s Secret catalogue?”
We quietly brought one of our boys upstairs where my wife simply asked him about the catalogue’s whereabouts. His immediate (and incriminating) response was, “I didn’t take it.” However, this didn’t stop him from disappearing and returning a few seconds later with it in his hand.
Plans foiled, he returned to the basement. As for me, I erased the browsing history from my iPad.
But yesterday, it wasn’t so much that I was looking at the VS catalogue, as much as we were looking FOR the VS catalogue. You see, our kids had some friends over (one of which just came in through the basement and up the stairs – and then into the pantry – all without knocking or otherwise acknowledging his entrance) for a sleepover. Now that they are older, this causes very little interruption in our day as long as we have sufficient cash on hand for pizza – and chicken, soda, chips and cookies – and a full box of waffles and several gallons of juice.
Anyway, I distinctly remember the VS catalogue residing on our kitchen table - where the boys were eating. For some reason, after they were finished and we had cleared the table with a front-end loader, it hit us that the catalogue was gone. This was not immediately troublesome since like most well organized homes, we have about thirty-two places in the kitchen alone that act as temporary holding places for mail, magazines, keys, cell phones, wallets and pens.
We were now missing five boys and one pseudo-soft-core porn magazine. Although I was chuckling inside, this is had to be dealt with. I’m savvy enough to know that the last thing I need is this turning up in someone’s bedroom and some mother seeing my wife’s name on it. Still, it required some tact, as twelve year old boys can be embarrassed when having to even acknowledge the very existence of parents, let alone one yelling into the game room, “Did you boys take the Victoria’s Secret catalogue?”
We quietly brought one of our boys upstairs where my wife simply asked him about the catalogue’s whereabouts. His immediate (and incriminating) response was, “I didn’t take it.” However, this didn’t stop him from disappearing and returning a few seconds later with it in his hand.
Plans foiled, he returned to the basement. As for me, I erased the browsing history from my iPad.
Friday, February 4, 2011
Tweetle Dee and Tweetle Dumb
I wouldn’t dislike Twitter so much if not for the word “tweet.” Not since “chipotle” worked its way into the American lexicon have I been so utterly disturbed by the overuse of a word. As I watched the violence unfold in Cairo this weekend, I heard one newscaster say, “This all coming to us via tweets and re-tweets.” So, desperados with smart phones have co-opted our news coverage? Anonymous revolutionaries are taking time out from throwing rocks and saying, “Brother, hold this rock for me a minute, coverage picked up and I have three bars, I need to tweet something real quick!”
But can you take any of this seriously when the word “tweet” is involved? Is it me or does this sound like baby talk? (Same newscaster as above: “This all coming to us via goochy-goos and re-goochy-goos.” See, same thing.)
But none of that matters, because I seem to be the only person around who still has no idea how the hell to “follow” someone! That means I have to hear the “tweets” fourth hand on ESPN, E!, CNN, QVC, Food Network and The Gameshow Channel, all of which report these tweets like they are the butter cream roses on some under-decorated news cake.
There is a logical progression with all technology. Twitter is leading us down the inevitable road whereby one day, one eye will be replaced with an LCD screen at birth and you will be synched (with the help of a three trillion GB CPU stapled to your head) to every living human being and you will be constantly updated whenever your new friend in Rotterdam is “enjoying a caramel macchiato.” You see, you won’t have to follow them - they will follow you.
But can you take any of this seriously when the word “tweet” is involved? Is it me or does this sound like baby talk? (Same newscaster as above: “This all coming to us via goochy-goos and re-goochy-goos.” See, same thing.)
But none of that matters, because I seem to be the only person around who still has no idea how the hell to “follow” someone! That means I have to hear the “tweets” fourth hand on ESPN, E!, CNN, QVC, Food Network and The Gameshow Channel, all of which report these tweets like they are the butter cream roses on some under-decorated news cake.
There is a logical progression with all technology. Twitter is leading us down the inevitable road whereby one day, one eye will be replaced with an LCD screen at birth and you will be synched (with the help of a three trillion GB CPU stapled to your head) to every living human being and you will be constantly updated whenever your new friend in Rotterdam is “enjoying a caramel macchiato.” You see, you won’t have to follow them - they will follow you.
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