Monthly Archives: March 2013

There was a

. . .report in the news that seven thousand dental patients in Oklahoma had to be checked for the aids virus. The most shocking thing about that report is that Oklahoma has seven thousand dental patients.

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Food

My girlfriend likes to try food she’s never had before. Good for her. The problem is I don’t always know what I’m eating. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a fussy eater. You put things in front of me and chances are I’ll put it in my mouth. But if you put something called polenta on the table and I walk in and, because it looks like a brick of cheese, I treat it like a bricks of cheese, bad thing happen.

Have you ever used a spoon to scrape off the roof of your mouth?

I have!

She also gets on these kicks. She wants to eat a certain style or texture or cuisine so that’s what we do. This week it was Salvadorian. She heard about the restaurant from a Mexican couple we were talking to at a Chinese restaurant owned by Italians. She was very interested in the objects of food they were talking about but I’m sure the clincher was the picture the woman showed. It was of a margarita with a small Corona, I’m told it’s called a Mexican Bulldog, held upside down in the glass. I heard it was all tasty. I didn’t get to go because I was working.

But her pictures looked lovely.

The other day she purchased Manzano bananas. Little mutant fellows. The size of William “The Refrigerator” Perry fingers (his Super Bowl ring size is 25 which is almost 4 inches in diameter). Yellow like piss that od’d on riboflavin. Terry tore two of those ripe looking little suckers off and we took a bite.

And immediately realized the folly of our ways. It tasted like you’d just licked a decades worth of chalk residue caked up on the inside of a third grade teachers arm flap. And then, as an added bonus, it coated the inside of your mouth with the consistency of a wet suit.

And here is where it got disgusting.

Although you didn’t want to do it, actually battled not to, it forced you to run your tongue over the film in hopes of clearing it. But it only made it worse. Like some chalk tasting rubber chia pet.

Terry then checked (oh good, check after the poisoning) and found out you’re supposed to eat them not when they are yellow (like every other banana in the world) but when they are brown or black (when every other banana in the world is considered rotting).

Fool me once. . .

“I will not be attempting this experiment again.” I said authoritatively. “This falls into the class of items you should not put in your mouth, like sashquatch hair or polenta. Besides, it has been my experience, oh these many years, that brown or black bananas are not to be eaten. I will continue following that creed. These are mutant joke bananas sent by horrible people hell bent on damaging our taste buds.”

I’m considering changing my eat what’s put in front of me stance. Picky eaters may never look all that happy or satisfied but I’m damn sure they’ve never had to Zamboni the roof of their mouth with a spoon.

I’ve created. . .

. . .a new organization.

I didn’t want to, I had to.

It’s called SNAPP.

Which stands for So Not A People Person.

So, if you find yourself in the need, join.

And don’t worry, there won’t be any meeting. Just print out the card and present it when the opportunity finds itself.

SNAPP

10 Things

I Hate About Green Beer

10. Amateurishly waters down professionally watered down beer.
9. Green beer combined with my bladder infection turns my urine yellow.
8. Hard to pick out the little green men during a Martian invasion.
7. If it’s good enough for the pesudo Irish pub down the street, that alone should convince you.
6. At closing time, EMT’s can’t tell who’s actually sick.
5. It stains your shillelagh, if you get my drift.
4. Makes everyone look like they’ve done more than kiss the Blarney Stone.
3. God didn’t make little green Amstel.
2. Turns out, it affects the taste.
1. It’s made of people!

May you have a wonderful, safe, curseless St. Patrick’s Day from Bound & Gags.

irishlarge

Happy International Women’s Day!

Complaint Box (AKA Shredder)

I know this’ll come as a shock, but, sometimes folks find me offensive. I know! ME! The nicest guy wearing my underwear! I usually answer them with something even more offensive just to prove them correct. That usually stops them from contacting me. I think the ending, “I’d quit while you’re ahead. It only gets worse from here.” has something to do with it.

There isn’t any complaint I haven’t heard or name I haven’t been called (which I always find funny coming from someone complaining about my use of language) but my favorite is when someone tells me they’re disappointed in me. It always comes from someone doesn’t know me. I find that funny. I got one of them yesterday and answered her with,

“I guess the world has devolved from ‘sticks and stones will break my bones, but words will never harm me.” to ‘sticks and stones will break my bones, but words will harm my self-esteem.’

It’s actually a good thing you found the offending bit because now you know where to avoid. As far as you demanding an apology or me to take down the offending statement, yeah, well, guess what? You’re going to be disappointed in me again. Ya gotta give me credit for consistency.”

A parent. . .

. . .had a kid with them and, because I was there, asked if I’d participate in a school project. The project was to collect advice from adults. Personally, I thought this showed a large lack of parental guidance from the father. Armed with that, I thought for a second before saying,

“Never play basketball wearing corduroys. You’ll damn near set your pubes on fire.”

Wonder if that’ll make the cut?