Tuesday, June 28, 2011

Cat Grooming and the Clown Problem

I think my stupid cats should stop throwing up in my basement. It's disgusting and I'm tired of going down there and discovering yet another hairball-infused spew on the floor. I'd gladly give the little fuckers some petromalt except that the main culprit Oliver (a.k.a Ollie, Awww-Lee, Little Bastard, L.B., Mr. ShitFucker, Lil' Bubba, Bubba, Lil' Buddy, Stinky BumBumBoy, Molly's Oliver, Captain Shithole, Freakshow, Hey You Get Offa There NOW!) doesn't like the malty goop and refuses to eat it. Molly loves it but she's not the one horking up every goddamn day is she? No, she is not. So because he's such a stubborn bugger and licks not only himself but Molly's fur as well, I end up with a veritable mine field in the basement that I have to navigate. Yes, I clean it but cat vomit has amazing bonding capabilities with bare concrete. If you aren't standing right behind Colonel Asslicker when he lets his vile, hairy payload go, well then it's gonna have time to absorb into the floor and make it nigh impossible to extract completely. I have barf halos everywhere down there. It's a problem.

What does he think, I'm running a circus down there? I mean, not anymore. Not since the permits were revoked and all the elephants escaped. Also maybe the sheer number of clown deaths may have been a catalyst for the eventual failure of The Amazing O'Malley Super Fantastic 3-Ring Traveling Circus Extravaganza That Never Actually Traveled or Even Existed circus. I still to this day say that the city was far too judgmental on that point. I mean, what is an "inordinate amount" anyway? It should be clearly defined. Is one clown death ok? How about a half dozen? Surely that can't be a problem. I need solid numbers if I am to understand this "law". I personally think we were providing a service for the community. These clowns have no self control and they breed like ... not rabbits exactly but maybe marsupials? Marsupials without the pouch thing. Come to think of it, I'm not even sure that they don't have pouches. Their outfits are large enough to conceal one. Man, wouldn't that be just like a frickin' clown to be hiding a marsupial-like pouch for their hideous offspring to climb into in order to latch onto a nasty, clowny teat. Goddamn, clowns are gross.

I'd feel better about the circus failing if the city had claimed zoning problems or something mundane like that as the issue. But the city was fully behind us getting the big tent up and filling it with thousands of cheering spectators and the pungent smell of elephant poop from the beginning, pushing the permitting process through quicker than anyone had ever seen before. At one time there had been a recommendation from the local government to make it mandatory for all school children to attend TAOMSF3RTCETNATOEE (as the circus was known to our fans) at least twice during the school year. We had become the go-to destination for school field trips for communities up and down the Massachusetts coast (and at least one Canadian elementary school too, but we didn't let them in on account of their funny-looking money). But the specter of the "Clown Apocalypse", as the local paper branded it, proved too difficult to overcome for us and so our dream died (along with a lot of clowns as it turns out).

Even if the grand jury votes to indict us (The Wiff was more involved in the talent management and book keeping where I was in charge of the day-to-day affairs and clown disposal), I don't think they have much of a case. Nor do I think they'll want to provoke us into "stirring things up". If we go down, we're gonna take others down too. I can give multiple examples of not only the police benefiting from our "practice" but also the local gardeners and landscapers (we offered the highest quality clown mulch at below-market prices). There's no way they didn't have an idea of what was going on (think about it....all that grease paint concentrated in one area there's bound to be some run-off and/or staining). We were just trying to keep the neighborhood safe from all the creepy, creepy clowns we kept hiring for our circus. We also needed to keep the show fresh and new. If someone came to the show more than once, I didn't want them seeing the same batch of twitchy, paranoid clowns running around in a tight circle that they saw last time. Everyone looked the other way for years and now that the numbers of missing clowns has grown to this supposed shockingly large number, they've all sprouted morals. I call bullshit.

My lawyer (Mr. Twinkles) tells me that I shouldn't comment since this is an active and on-going case but I suspect he may be part clown. I'm not worried though as I have every confidence that we will be cleared of all charges. Even if this does end up going to trial, there's no jury in the world that would consider convicting us. Clown population control is a public service. Would you really prefer that they be left to their own devices and allowed to roam free? What happens when they start infringing on our neighborhoods? Do you really want to throw out your garbage only to be confronted with a cackle of clowns (that's the technical term for a group of 3 or more clowns) rifling through your barrels in search of food and things to juggle? Or worse, what if they walk up to your house and peer in a window while you are sitting on the couch watching Wipeout (oh get down off your high horse. That show is fucking hilarious)? At first you'll just feel the hair on the back of your neck stand up a little but you're not sure why. You'll look around the room and suddenly out of the corner of your eye you'll see a tuft of bright red, fuzzy hair. Then you'll lock eyes with it and scream like you just got worst titty-twister ever. No one needs that. Let me handle them for you ok? Otherwise they'll end up infesting not only the woods and sewers systems but maybe even the walls of your house (they love fiberglass insulation. They use it for nesting material and replacement hair).

That's all I'm going to say about this. I will of course update all of you on the progress of the case periodically but for now I would like to get on with my life. Besides, I have plenty of hairball nastiness to deal with.

Tuesday, June 14, 2011

I Like What I Like

I'm not exactly what you'd call an adventurous eater. I grew up in a household where....well, I've told this part of the story before. Anywho, it's very hard to get me to try different things. I tend to go back to the foods that I am positive that I will enjoy. It is a near-constant source of frustration for The Wiff who is much more apt to try a new dish and/or food combination. Basically, I'm a culinary chicken-shit. With that in mind here is a short list of things that you should avoid putting into a meal that you want me to try.

Water Chestnuts - God I hate these things. My aversion to them is three-fold: 1) Texture. That wimpy crunch they have is bad enough but I cannot abide that slightly squeaky sound they make in my head when one makes it past my filter and gets into my gob. 2) Taste. People say that the water chestnut has a subtle taste and absorbs the flavoring of sauces easily and readily like a little crunchy diplomat. I say they taste like someone dropped a chunk of drywall into whatever it is they were cooking and said, "Meh, no one will notice". 3) They are sneaky. As I alluded to earlier, I can spend a good 5 minutes clearing what I expect to be a chestnut-free path in whatever I am eating and invariably one of these tiny, edible terrorists will infiltrate my defenses and blow up my mouth with it's shitty, fake foodness. They mostly appear in Asian food but I have run across them in surprising places before (a salad for instance and once in a chicken wrap). They are banned from my plate. Take them away.

Cilantro - As garnishes go I don't mind large leafy bits of cilantro because I can usually pick 'em off quite easily (same goes for parsley with which some chefs go completely overboard). I'm not a complete dunderhead. I can appreciate presentation when it comes to food. It's when cilantro is incorporated into the actual recipe where I object. I'll be enjoying a lovely burrito and suddenly I'll hit a patch of what tastes like Ivory soap. Except it isn't soap, it's motherfucking cilantro ruining everything for everyone. I used to complain about a certain local restaurant's tomatoes tasting like they had freezer burn on them. This was not the case after all. Turns out their salsa was infested with cilantro and that was making the tomatoes taste evil. Stop using it. For the record, I'm not a huge fan of coriander either. This whole plant can just go fuck itself.

Caraway Seeds - What is the best way to ruin a perfectly lovely sausage? Stuff it full of caraway seeds, that's how. Rye bread is sometimes infested with these evil fuckers. Recently I bought a helping of potato gnocchi here at work (at the lovely Cafe Fail) and much to my chagrin some twisted bastard had dumped caraway seeds into the sauce. Why? So unnecessary. I spent the bulk of my lunch time liberating my little dumpling friends from the unpleasant influence of those pungent bastards. Some of them had of course overwhelmed the lovely blandness of the potato and ruined the poor buggers. I probably still ate all them though.

Peas - Nasty, nasty peas. By far these have the worst texture of all vegetables (I don't care if they are technically a fruit according to my Wikipedia research). That mushiness is what appeals to some people (the Brits love 'em) but I cannot stand that texture. I'm very texture-sensitive it would seem. The Wiff has tried several times to get me to try different variations of peas, "OMG, these are SOOooOOooO fresh! You'll LOVE them!!" No. No I won't. I have never, ever, ever liked them. As a kid I used to put them under my plate thinking that would trick my mom into thinking I had eaten them (that didn't work by the by. All it did was create a plate-sized pea pancake that, if left to cure for 15 minutes, would adhere the plate to the kitchen table with the tensile strength of a low-grade wood glue. Nasty). Quit trying to slip them into other foods that I enjoy. Get them the hell out of my shepard's pie. I don't care if the recipe calls for them. Don't use them please please please. A thousand times please. She doesn't listen to me though. So I must separate the diminutive green fuckers from the stuff I want to eat. Damn you, Wiff.

Corn (off the cob) - Ok, this is a weird one, I'll admit. If you are serving some wonderful corn on the cob count me in as interested. I'm not saying I'm a super enthusiast but I'll gladly get slightly messy munching on a nicely buttered corn on the cob (cob of corn? That sounds wrong somehow...slightly sexual perhaps). But if you were to take that very same cob and slice off the corn kernels, well then count me the fuck out. I want nothing to do with free-agent corn. I like my corn in cob form only. I have no further explanation and I don't believe that one is needed. Keep 'em on the cob or I'm gonna pick 'em out. Simple as that.

Why yes! Of course I'd love some!

Holy shit get that away from me! What's wrong with you?

Now if you'll excuse me I have to go see if there is anything I can complain about that doesn't really matter to anyone else.

Thursday, June 9, 2011

Pay Attention to MEEEEEEE!!

That's this blog yelling at me in the title there. I've not been a good blogger (jeezus christ I hate that word. The word just plops out of your mouth like a turd. Awful). So yeah, I am a slacker huh? I say that I want to have at least one update a week for this website/blog thing but of course I keep neglecting it. Why is this? Mainly it's cuz I don't have much going that is all that interesting. I'm trying to be courteous to you, gentle reader, by not posting a lot of sleep-inducing blather about my day-to-day existence. I HAVE to know about all this stuff that's in my head but I can at the very least shield you all from it. Basically I'm a hero and you need to praise me.

Alright, so...um..what's up? Not much with me. Yes, ok, there's stuff going on but it's all work stuff. I have some things I have to take care of at work and they seem to be taking quite a bit of not only my time but also my brain capacity (short order there huh? zing!). I think once I get past this project I'll be better able to focus on side projects like this (not that I have a ton of hobbies or whatever). I have a long-standing policy of not talking about jobs that appear on the resume so I'm certainly not going to go into much detail here. But I will say that I got cranky at my job recently. I was given a project that I wasn't thrilled about and after trying to wiggle my way out of it with no luck, I just sucked it up and did the work. That's really what I've found works for me anyway. Stop yer whining and just do the thing. Maybe you'll learn something in the process. So yea, it was not fun but it's wrapping up soon and as it turns out, I did learn some things. Meh. I tend to forget that if I'm uncomfortable and grumpy at work it usually means I'm learning something new. Yes, I can be a baby but hopefully I can be less of a baby in the future.

What about home stuff? Well, we recently had our deck and fence replaced at the house. The old deck was not-so-slowly sinking into the ground (this past winter and all that snow really took a toll on the poorly built bugger) and the fence that forms a giant 75-foot L shape between our property and two of our neighbor's houses (we have the corner lot) was threatening to fall over soon. I think the new stuff looks wicked pissah. Wanna see? 'Course you do. Let's do this in "Before and After" style!

See? Look how far away from the house that railing is...it was sinking!

Ahhhh..that's better

This was the culprit corner. This corner was down about 8 inches from where it was supposed to be.

Blammo! Fixed.

The shittiest stairs ever. Not one riser was the same height as the next one. The top one was almost 9 inches. The standard is somewhere between 6" and 7" (yes, I looked that up).

Mucho better.

Bleah. Look at that shit.

Ooh. So fresh and so clean clean.

Not bad right? Pretty slick. We used the same contractor who did our kitchen renovation. He rules. We also had him build us a little shed on the driveway side of the house. I don't have a picture of it but in his words: It's cute! It totally is too. I'm gonna get me a snow blower and keep it in there. Did I mention I know absolutely nothing about snow blowers? I've been shoveling snow since I was a tiny cherub. I believe I deserve some gas powered awesomeness to move that white bullshit for me. It will rule and it will never not work and nobody will ever break into my new shed and steal it. Right? Right.