How hard is it to shop at the mall? It shouldn't be hard at all. Well, for people like me, who are crazy, it's a nearly impossible task. One I must face every time I need a new belt or pair of shorts.
First off, who do you go to the mall with? There are basically two options here: Go with a woman, or go alone. But you know you can't go alone. No man can shop alone at the mall, you just feel way to weird. I mean, when I'm in a store alone, the entire time I'm in there I feel like the employees are just judging me. "Oh, he came to the mall alone, what a freak" "Look what he's buying, that won't look good on him" "This guy must be gay, look at all those pants he's buying." It goes on and on. Now, they may or may not be actually thinking this, but I just feel like they are. I really shouldn't care, it's not like I know these people, but I do care and so I cannot go alone.
But then I go with a woman. Sure, people don't judge me. They think I'm with my girlfriend, she's making me buy all those pants or that stupid looking shirt. It's no longer my fault, the burden has been passed onto whatever girl I'm with. Except now she's judging me. And being vocal about it. "No, no, not that shirt, you should get this one, its so cute!" "These pants are much nicer, buy these ones!"
See, the thing is, this problem only applies to malls. If there was an American Eagle or a PacSun or whatever not inside a mall, I could march right in there and buy anything I wanted, no problem. But you put that store inside a giant building filled with screaming kids and preteen girls and I'm fucked. I can't go in there alone. Maybe it's the cheap tile patterns that scare me, or the fake plants, but malls are no place for a man to go alone.
Not to mention my problem with commitment. It makes it nearly impossible to shop in a mall. Why, you ask? Well, I'll walk into one store and find a shirt that I love. I want to buy it, but then I think, wait, I haven't even been to this store yet, what if they have a better shirt for cheaper? And so I will wander into every store in the mall I like, finding the best shirt I can, like I'm on some sort of fashion related scavenger hunt. This problem means that the five minute task of picking out a shirt is stretched out to about forty-five minutes, all because I can't commit to a shirt. So all I have to say is: Malls: Fuck 'em.
Monday, July 28, 2008
Friday, July 11, 2008
Emergency Alerts
Yeah yeah yeah, I haven't published anything in a while, get off me. I'm working on it. You know what pisses me off? The EAS. That's Emergency Alert System for you uneducated folks out there. I understand it's an important feature to have, it's really quite helpful and I appreciate the effort.
But the EAS is like the almost popular kid at school, the one that everyone sort of likes and every once in a while he says something funny, but then he takes it too far, or runs the joke into the ground and everyone ends up hating it. See, what the EAS does, is it interrupts whatever you're watching on TV with the most ear-splitting, annoying beep you ever heard, that lasts for about fifteen seconds. I don't understand why they need this. The reason they have it is to get your attention. But, since it only comes on in the middle of Scrubs and The Office, I'm obviously already raptly paying attention. All the beep does is cover up my angry curses as they interrupt my favorite shows. They should switch it to some great theme song, that wouldn't be quite as disappointing I guess.
And the fucking thing is so bright. When it comes on the TV, the EAS is always this bright, glaring yellow that just hurts the eyes. All it says is "EAS Warning" or something, it doesn't even have useful information there. They should toss up a video of the crazy weather going on out there. Actually, they should show a picture of some hot woman. Although I suppose the women wouldn't really care much for that. But anything has to be better than that bright yellow.
But my main issue is that they are so damn long. Seriously. I understand, they want to warn us about the weather. That part is fine and dandy. But then they have to tell me what to do. Seriously folks, this isn't my first rodeo. This is Minnesota, it's not like we've never had a tornado before. They should come on, say "Hey, there's a tornado, duck" and be off. I don't need to know to go to my basement and start praying. Just gimme the news and let my watch my shows. None of this beating around the bush anymore.
So whoever is in charge of the EAS, take notes. Get rid of the beep, hot woman, no instructions. Make it happen. We're counting on you.
But the EAS is like the almost popular kid at school, the one that everyone sort of likes and every once in a while he says something funny, but then he takes it too far, or runs the joke into the ground and everyone ends up hating it. See, what the EAS does, is it interrupts whatever you're watching on TV with the most ear-splitting, annoying beep you ever heard, that lasts for about fifteen seconds. I don't understand why they need this. The reason they have it is to get your attention. But, since it only comes on in the middle of Scrubs and The Office, I'm obviously already raptly paying attention. All the beep does is cover up my angry curses as they interrupt my favorite shows. They should switch it to some great theme song, that wouldn't be quite as disappointing I guess.
And the fucking thing is so bright. When it comes on the TV, the EAS is always this bright, glaring yellow that just hurts the eyes. All it says is "EAS Warning" or something, it doesn't even have useful information there. They should toss up a video of the crazy weather going on out there. Actually, they should show a picture of some hot woman. Although I suppose the women wouldn't really care much for that. But anything has to be better than that bright yellow.
But my main issue is that they are so damn long. Seriously. I understand, they want to warn us about the weather. That part is fine and dandy. But then they have to tell me what to do. Seriously folks, this isn't my first rodeo. This is Minnesota, it's not like we've never had a tornado before. They should come on, say "Hey, there's a tornado, duck" and be off. I don't need to know to go to my basement and start praying. Just gimme the news and let my watch my shows. None of this beating around the bush anymore.
So whoever is in charge of the EAS, take notes. Get rid of the beep, hot woman, no instructions. Make it happen. We're counting on you.
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
An Ode to Those Curvier Women
Sup homediddlies, long time no update! Blog fodder has been particularly sparce lately, but, as I've said before, that's no excuse for the lack of blogs. So I'm going to try, once again to get back in the swing of this.
Now, this wouldn't be a proper blog if we didn't have some asshole, sexist, womanizing going on up in here, am I right? Well, wait no longer friends, that day has finally come. Last night my friends and I were discussing the hottest women we knew and it made me think about how we, as men, judge a woman's appearance. Now, I'm not talking about how attractive a woman as a whole is, that would be far too fair. We're just down to the sexist bullshit here, tits and ass.
Basically, I've realized that 75% of the guys I know are what I like to call bean farmers. What I mean by this, is that they shoot for the beanpole women. If she's thin, she wins you could say. Now, there's nothing wrong with that, to each his own, but I say it really hurts me. You're not giving the curvier women a chance and that's not right. Now, maybe my sample is skewed, but if this is how the rest of the world operates, then that is disturbing, at least to me. To the right you will find your average "hot" beanpole.
But to the left, you have some nice curves. See, I need something I can dig my hands into. I'm not saying I'm a chubby chaser, and if you are that's cool, but I'm not. All I'm saying is a little ass isn't a bad thing. If I can break the woman over my knee, then she's a little too thin. A beanpole girl is just too boring for me. There's nothing to look at, it's all just a line. But with a woman with some tits, maybe a bit of a butt, you've got surprises around every curve.
It's like you're picking a baseball bat to knock a ball out of the park. Are you going to take the thin, whispy whiffle bat? No, you're going to go for that nice, slightly thicker (but not too thick) bat with a bit of heft to it if you know what's good for you. You're obviously not going to grab a log, but something with just enough weight to knock it home.
You know why I like a curvy woman? Well, your average curvy girl is much classier than your average beanpole. Why? You can get a beanpole chick in any club, bar, street corner, etc. They're everywhere. But a woman who's got a nice round ass is a rare thing. And she knows it. She knows she's above the beanpole women because she's not as common, and that is a good thing. It gives her confidence. Now, a curvy woman is also more down to Earth at the same time. A too-skinny girl spends 50% of her time saying "oh I shouldn't eat that, I'm too fat" and another 50% saying "I wish I had your butt," or "I wish I had your body." But a curvy girl, she doesn't care. She'll eat the cake and flaunt her body. She knows where it's at.
So maybe this post was a little self indulgent, a little womanizing, and a little sexist. But you know what? Somebody had to say it. So you women with the round asses and the big racks, don't let the beanpoles get you down. You and I both know you're of a higher caliber.
Now, this wouldn't be a proper blog if we didn't have some asshole, sexist, womanizing going on up in here, am I right? Well, wait no longer friends, that day has finally come. Last night my friends and I were discussing the hottest women we knew and it made me think about how we, as men, judge a woman's appearance. Now, I'm not talking about how attractive a woman as a whole is, that would be far too fair. We're just down to the sexist bullshit here, tits and ass.
Basically, I've realized that 75% of the guys I know are what I like to call bean farmers. What I mean by this, is that they shoot for the beanpole women. If she's thin, she wins you could say. Now, there's nothing wrong with that, to each his own, but I say it really hurts me. You're not giving the curvier women a chance and that's not right. Now, maybe my sample is skewed, but if this is how the rest of the world operates, then that is disturbing, at least to me. To the right you will find your average "hot" beanpole.
But to the left, you have some nice curves. See, I need something I can dig my hands into. I'm not saying I'm a chubby chaser, and if you are that's cool, but I'm not. All I'm saying is a little ass isn't a bad thing. If I can break the woman over my knee, then she's a little too thin. A beanpole girl is just too boring for me. There's nothing to look at, it's all just a line. But with a woman with some tits, maybe a bit of a butt, you've got surprises around every curve. It's like you're picking a baseball bat to knock a ball out of the park. Are you going to take the thin, whispy whiffle bat? No, you're going to go for that nice, slightly thicker (but not too thick) bat with a bit of heft to it if you know what's good for you. You're obviously not going to grab a log, but something with just enough weight to knock it home.
You know why I like a curvy woman? Well, your average curvy girl is much classier than your average beanpole. Why? You can get a beanpole chick in any club, bar, street corner, etc. They're everywhere. But a woman who's got a nice round ass is a rare thing. And she knows it. She knows she's above the beanpole women because she's not as common, and that is a good thing. It gives her confidence. Now, a curvy woman is also more down to Earth at the same time. A too-skinny girl spends 50% of her time saying "oh I shouldn't eat that, I'm too fat" and another 50% saying "I wish I had your butt," or "I wish I had your body." But a curvy girl, she doesn't care. She'll eat the cake and flaunt her body. She knows where it's at.
So maybe this post was a little self indulgent, a little womanizing, and a little sexist. But you know what? Somebody had to say it. So you women with the round asses and the big racks, don't let the beanpoles get you down. You and I both know you're of a higher caliber.
Friday, June 20, 2008
Savers
So as you can see, I'm sticking to my "schedule" like the prom queen sticks to her lunch. I'm having a hard time coming up with funny things to say lately, as you can probably tell. But that's the reason I'm writing this blog, so I'm just going to plow onward.
The other day I went to Savers. I don't know if you have one of these where you live, but it's basically a Goodwill, Salvation Army, etc. People bring their old, crappy shit and you can buy it for a ridiculously cheap price. It's basically an all year garage sale. So pretty much, you can expect to only find shit. But every once in a while, if you keep a watchful eye, you can find gold in the shit mine.
My gold manifested itself in a pair of ancient stereo speakers for four dollars apiece. Now, chances were these speakers were more fried than Amy Whinehouse, but for eight dollars, it was a gamble I was willing to make. Plus, I was able to haggle them down to four bucks for the pair. And by haggle, I mean cheat. I hauled my purchase up to the front of the store and proudly slapped them on the counter. The cashier, who looked like he was between bags of meth at the moment, rang up one speaker, then told me my total of $4.27. Hark, what's this? He only rang up one? Well, fuck him, I'm running with this. I gave the man a fiver, got my change and dashed home.
And hooked those beauties up. And they sound fan-fucking-tastic. I was shocked. I was expected at least a little static. But no. So now I have surround sound, sort of, in my basement. I plan to go to Savers more often, to see what other little nuggets I can find.
Now, before we go any further I'd like to clarify that I really have only been to Savers about three times in my life now, so I don't have a whole lot of experience in these matters. But when I was there, there was what seemed to be a battalion of redneck militia men or something searching the store for useful equipment for their moonshine patrols or whatever the fuck it is they do. I'm sure you're wondering what I mean here. Well, allow me to elaborate.
There were approximately six men wearing military surplus camouflage pants, shirts that read things like "Kyle's Auto" or "My Other Shirt is a Kevlar vest (it really said that)," bandannas, and handlebar mustaches storming Savers. They didn't fuck around in the clothing aisles right at the front of the store like most people do, they knew exactly what they wanted. They marched straight to the back. Electronics and Appliances. The boys had done their homework. Once there, they fanned out, calling out useful gadgets to what must have been their ring leader, Chet. "Say Chet, we've got a scanner radio over here," "Chet, how 'bout this nine speed drill?" It was really rather frightening for me.
I'm not sure if this is a common place Savers occurrence, or even where these men came from, but I hope I end up like that someday. Searching Savers for the best electronics from 1986. And I know I'm making fun of them now, but when we get hit by those Red Commie Bastards I know whose door I'll be knocking on.
The other day I went to Savers. I don't know if you have one of these where you live, but it's basically a Goodwill, Salvation Army, etc. People bring their old, crappy shit and you can buy it for a ridiculously cheap price. It's basically an all year garage sale. So pretty much, you can expect to only find shit. But every once in a while, if you keep a watchful eye, you can find gold in the shit mine.
My gold manifested itself in a pair of ancient stereo speakers for four dollars apiece. Now, chances were these speakers were more fried than Amy Whinehouse, but for eight dollars, it was a gamble I was willing to make. Plus, I was able to haggle them down to four bucks for the pair. And by haggle, I mean cheat. I hauled my purchase up to the front of the store and proudly slapped them on the counter. The cashier, who looked like he was between bags of meth at the moment, rang up one speaker, then told me my total of $4.27. Hark, what's this? He only rang up one? Well, fuck him, I'm running with this. I gave the man a fiver, got my change and dashed home.
And hooked those beauties up. And they sound fan-fucking-tastic. I was shocked. I was expected at least a little static. But no. So now I have surround sound, sort of, in my basement. I plan to go to Savers more often, to see what other little nuggets I can find.
Now, before we go any further I'd like to clarify that I really have only been to Savers about three times in my life now, so I don't have a whole lot of experience in these matters. But when I was there, there was what seemed to be a battalion of redneck militia men or something searching the store for useful equipment for their moonshine patrols or whatever the fuck it is they do. I'm sure you're wondering what I mean here. Well, allow me to elaborate.
There were approximately six men wearing military surplus camouflage pants, shirts that read things like "Kyle's Auto" or "My Other Shirt is a Kevlar vest (it really said that)," bandannas, and handlebar mustaches storming Savers. They didn't fuck around in the clothing aisles right at the front of the store like most people do, they knew exactly what they wanted. They marched straight to the back. Electronics and Appliances. The boys had done their homework. Once there, they fanned out, calling out useful gadgets to what must have been their ring leader, Chet. "Say Chet, we've got a scanner radio over here," "Chet, how 'bout this nine speed drill?" It was really rather frightening for me.
I'm not sure if this is a common place Savers occurrence, or even where these men came from, but I hope I end up like that someday. Searching Savers for the best electronics from 1986. And I know I'm making fun of them now, but when we get hit by those Red Commie Bastards I know whose door I'll be knocking on.
Monday, June 16, 2008
The Five Most Badass Weddings
First, I'd like to apologize for my last post. I promise not to blog drunk anymore. I was in a rough spot, I didn't have a lot of options. Actually it just seemed like a good idea at the time. But we're past that now, right? We all learned something from it, and we can move on.
Now, I work at a private golf club in the banquet hall, setting up and serving at parties, weddings, fancy dinners and the like. During the summer months I work at least one wedding a week, and sometimes two, and to be honest, they all blend together. The food, the speeches, the music, its all the same at pretty much every wedding. And so I have vowed that if I ever get married (please God, no) it will be in some awesome, badass way that nobody has ever done before. To get ideas for this, I've found the five most badass weddings.
5. Skydiving Wedding
What's more dangerous than signing your whole life away to some bitch? Doing it while plummeting towards the ground with nothing but a cloth bag strapped to your back, that's what. If completely changing the rest of your life isn't quite extreme enough for you, than this wedding is for you. Your vows are read as you jump out of a plane towards the ground, and the next time you feel sweet earth underneath you, you'll be married to the love of your life. No matter how many pieces you're in.
4. Biker Wedding
Biker rallies and weddings actually have a lot in common. Loud music, drunken bearded men dressed in ill-fitting outfits, and tons of broken glass. So why not combine the two? Nothing says badass like walking done the aisle in a leather wedding dress. And the groomsmen could wear assless chaps. Or something. Actually, this is starting to sound like a Village People Video.
3. The Vegas Wedding
A wedding in Las Vegas is the perfect symbol. Marriage is a huge gamble, so why not incorporate that gamble into that special day? Not to mention, with a Vegas wedding you've got options. Elvis theme, Star Trek theme, you name it, they've got it. Plus, you can have the reception at a strip club. Now that's romance!
2. Metal Wedding
Look, those drunk fuckers pretty much trash the reception anyways, they may as well do it in style, right? This is pretty similar to the biker wedding, except less leather and vibrating seats, and more beer and guitars. No simple wedding band will do for this, you've got to call in some bar band whose van has a pair of tits painted on the side. Instead of a first dance, you and that special someone can share a first mosh, and pour beer down each other's mouths instead of cake.
1. Nude Wedding
Marriage in the nude. I know what you're thinking, what's badass about that? Well, look at it this way. When you two are asked if you will spend the rest of your long lives with each other, and only each other, everything's on the table. All of the sudden that tiny penis isn't going to look like something she can just deal with like she has been, and those less than average sized tits just won't seem like enough. Oh, and keeping your eyes off the Maid of Honor's Ds is probably going to be pretty tough too. If you can pull off a nude wedding, than you know your woman is with you through it all.
In conclusion, I believe you should make your wedding special, because it's probably the happiest day of your married life. And you're probably better off without the whole marriage thing, but that's coming from a 17 year old kid with a fear of commitment, so take it with a grain of salt.
Now, I work at a private golf club in the banquet hall, setting up and serving at parties, weddings, fancy dinners and the like. During the summer months I work at least one wedding a week, and sometimes two, and to be honest, they all blend together. The food, the speeches, the music, its all the same at pretty much every wedding. And so I have vowed that if I ever get married (please God, no) it will be in some awesome, badass way that nobody has ever done before. To get ideas for this, I've found the five most badass weddings.
5. Skydiving Wedding
What's more dangerous than signing your whole life away to some bitch? Doing it while plummeting towards the ground with nothing but a cloth bag strapped to your back, that's what. If completely changing the rest of your life isn't quite extreme enough for you, than this wedding is for you. Your vows are read as you jump out of a plane towards the ground, and the next time you feel sweet earth underneath you, you'll be married to the love of your life. No matter how many pieces you're in.
4. Biker Wedding
Biker rallies and weddings actually have a lot in common. Loud music, drunken bearded men dressed in ill-fitting outfits, and tons of broken glass. So why not combine the two? Nothing says badass like walking done the aisle in a leather wedding dress. And the groomsmen could wear assless chaps. Or something. Actually, this is starting to sound like a Village People Video.
3. The Vegas Wedding
A wedding in Las Vegas is the perfect symbol. Marriage is a huge gamble, so why not incorporate that gamble into that special day? Not to mention, with a Vegas wedding you've got options. Elvis theme, Star Trek theme, you name it, they've got it. Plus, you can have the reception at a strip club. Now that's romance!
2. Metal Wedding
Look, those drunk fuckers pretty much trash the reception anyways, they may as well do it in style, right? This is pretty similar to the biker wedding, except less leather and vibrating seats, and more beer and guitars. No simple wedding band will do for this, you've got to call in some bar band whose van has a pair of tits painted on the side. Instead of a first dance, you and that special someone can share a first mosh, and pour beer down each other's mouths instead of cake.
1. Nude Wedding
Marriage in the nude. I know what you're thinking, what's badass about that? Well, look at it this way. When you two are asked if you will spend the rest of your long lives with each other, and only each other, everything's on the table. All of the sudden that tiny penis isn't going to look like something she can just deal with like she has been, and those less than average sized tits just won't seem like enough. Oh, and keeping your eyes off the Maid of Honor's Ds is probably going to be pretty tough too. If you can pull off a nude wedding, than you know your woman is with you through it all.
In conclusion, I believe you should make your wedding special, because it's probably the happiest day of your married life. And you're probably better off without the whole marriage thing, but that's coming from a 17 year old kid with a fear of commitment, so take it with a grain of salt.
Saturday, June 14, 2008
Drunk, Concerts, Dr. Pepper, Piss
Okay I didn't update last night, fucking sue me. Anyways, I'm drunk right now, but I'm updating and that's what's important. Anyways, maybe I'm funnier when I'm drunk, you be the judge.
So I went to a concert on Wednesday night. Kanye West, Rhianna, N.E.R.D., and Lupe Fiasco. Don't listen to any of them. Don't even like rap. Very much. But my friends do, so I went with them. I'll admit, it was a cool fucking concert. Kanye West had the best goddamn light show I have ever seen since grade school. And I really liked N.E.R.D. I recommend them. They've got some funk, hip-hop, rock, it's sweet shit.
But that's not what this is about. I want to talk about that douschebag at the concert who gets way to into it. You know, the guy who closes his eyes and just "gets lost in the music, maaaan." Fuck him. You know, I get it. It's great music, you love it, you get into it. But you don't need to make me suffer. And why the fuck are they always, always, always in front of me? At the concert on Wednesday the bitch in front of me happened to be that guy. During Rhianna (who sucked, by the way) he took off his shirt, and danced on his chair. And fell off it. Four times (I liked that part). Then, during Kanye West, he kept his hands raised for THE ENTIRE GODDAMN SHOW. Not a song. Not a verse. The entire hour and 45 minute set. In my face. Fuck.
And there was the son of a bitch at a Coheed and Cambria concert who was in front of me and chose to lean back on me, close his eyes, and lose himself in the music. A two hundred pound son of a bitch I might add. If I leaned back on someone in public, I would get punched in the goddamn neck. But apparently, at concerts, its okay to lean on people and dance because you're "lost in the music." Well you know what? I get lost in the music too. There's entire parts of concerts I can't remember because I just get lost in it. But I don't lean on people, dance around like a fuckass, and other shit. I just listen.
To continue on my drunken ramblings, Dr. Pepper has 23 flavors. I'm sure you know, they advertise it on their cans. But what are the 23 flavors? Because I only taste one. The flavor of Dr. Pepper. I googled 23 flavors of Dr. Pepper just now, and I checked approximately three sites, including Wikipedia, so I've done my homework. Nobody knows. I think it's all bullshit. They just say 23 flavors so it sounds tasty. But why would 23 flavors taste good? It's like when you were a kid and you mixed all the pops together at the restaraunt and it tasted like shit but you said it was good because everyone liked it. Oh well, Dr. Pepper is tasty, a good mixer, and has 23 flavors, so fuck it.
So I went to a concert on Wednesday night. Kanye West, Rhianna, N.E.R.D., and Lupe Fiasco. Don't listen to any of them. Don't even like rap. Very much. But my friends do, so I went with them. I'll admit, it was a cool fucking concert. Kanye West had the best goddamn light show I have ever seen since grade school. And I really liked N.E.R.D. I recommend them. They've got some funk, hip-hop, rock, it's sweet shit.
But that's not what this is about. I want to talk about that douschebag at the concert who gets way to into it. You know, the guy who closes his eyes and just "gets lost in the music, maaaan." Fuck him. You know, I get it. It's great music, you love it, you get into it. But you don't need to make me suffer. And why the fuck are they always, always, always in front of me? At the concert on Wednesday the bitch in front of me happened to be that guy. During Rhianna (who sucked, by the way) he took off his shirt, and danced on his chair. And fell off it. Four times (I liked that part). Then, during Kanye West, he kept his hands raised for THE ENTIRE GODDAMN SHOW. Not a song. Not a verse. The entire hour and 45 minute set. In my face. Fuck.
And there was the son of a bitch at a Coheed and Cambria concert who was in front of me and chose to lean back on me, close his eyes, and lose himself in the music. A two hundred pound son of a bitch I might add. If I leaned back on someone in public, I would get punched in the goddamn neck. But apparently, at concerts, its okay to lean on people and dance because you're "lost in the music." Well you know what? I get lost in the music too. There's entire parts of concerts I can't remember because I just get lost in it. But I don't lean on people, dance around like a fuckass, and other shit. I just listen.
To continue on my drunken ramblings, Dr. Pepper has 23 flavors. I'm sure you know, they advertise it on their cans. But what are the 23 flavors? Because I only taste one. The flavor of Dr. Pepper. I googled 23 flavors of Dr. Pepper just now, and I checked approximately three sites, including Wikipedia, so I've done my homework. Nobody knows. I think it's all bullshit. They just say 23 flavors so it sounds tasty. But why would 23 flavors taste good? It's like when you were a kid and you mixed all the pops together at the restaraunt and it tasted like shit but you said it was good because everyone liked it. Oh well, Dr. Pepper is tasty, a good mixer, and has 23 flavors, so fuck it.
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
Fuck the Cable Company, Jucy Lucy
Well, for the fifth time in about a month my internet is broken, and it is total bullshit. They've replaced the modem, the router, the cable line, I don't know what else they can replace. So here I am, sitting at the mall with my laptop like a total social outcast douchebag. Seriously, who brings their laptop to the mall? Freaks, that's who. And the cable company doesn't come until monday to fix this, so don't expect regular updates.
But I do have good news. I have made up for my lack of internet by finally conquering a dish that I have been waiting to experience for quite a long time. The Jucy Lucy. No, I didn't misspell it. Google it. The Jucy Lucy is basically a cheeseburger. But instead of placing the cheese on top of the burger like any old joe would do, you put the cheese inside the patty. This creates a hot, boiling pocket of cheese inside the burger that, if it doesn't give you mouth 3rd degree burns, will send you into cheesy mouth orgasms for hours.
And so the journey begins. First, we aquired the perfect buns. Cheesy potato bread burger fresh
from the bakery my friend works at. Many people believe that the bun is merely a tool, used to bring the meat to your mouth, but in fact it is an integral part of the burger, and should be given the same care the meat is given. That is why we use only the finest buns on our burgers.
Getting the optimum ground beef is also important. You can see us prepping ours right here:
Your next step is to prepare the lower patty, and put your layer of
cheese on top of that layer. You want to make you patties thin for this burger, since you will be stacking two together. We used provalone cheese, but feel free to mix it up.
Place your top patty on top of the cheese, and pinch it tightly together around the sides. Make sure its tight (that's what she said!), or else you're going to get some serious seperation between the patties. Add whatever seasoning you prefer to both sides now. I used some Lowry's, garlic salt, and pepper, but you can be a bit more daring if you prefer.
The next step is to grill to perfection. Make sure to cook both sides all the way through. This is a
thick burger so it's going to take a while. The best approach is a medium to low setting on the grill, so you don't burn the outsides. I prefer mine medium rare because, hey, who doesn't love a little bit of blood in their meat?
Oh, and some chill tunes are important. Make sure you have relaxing, feel good music playing throughout this entire process. Studies have shown that positive music played around cooking meat improves the flavor by as much as 20 percent.
Finally, add your condiments and enjoy! Prepare for hot, cheesy goodness mixed with burgerific
perfection. Caution: Hot cheese may spray out, burning your face/mouth. Trust me, it's worth it. And yes, that is the tasty new Mountain Dew flavor THE REVOLUTION next to my burger. THE REVOLUTION is quite a delicious grilling beverage. I strongly reccomend it.
Follow up your delicious burger with a rousing game of outdoor poker. Remember, happy grilling!
But I do have good news. I have made up for my lack of internet by finally conquering a dish that I have been waiting to experience for quite a long time. The Jucy Lucy. No, I didn't misspell it. Google it. The Jucy Lucy is basically a cheeseburger. But instead of placing the cheese on top of the burger like any old joe would do, you put the cheese inside the patty. This creates a hot, boiling pocket of cheese inside the burger that, if it doesn't give you mouth 3rd degree burns, will send you into cheesy mouth orgasms for hours.
And so the journey begins. First, we aquired the perfect buns. Cheesy potato bread burger fresh
from the bakery my friend works at. Many people believe that the bun is merely a tool, used to bring the meat to your mouth, but in fact it is an integral part of the burger, and should be given the same care the meat is given. That is why we use only the finest buns on our burgers.
Getting the optimum ground beef is also important. You can see us prepping ours right here:Your next step is to prepare the lower patty, and put your layer of
cheese on top of that layer. You want to make you patties thin for this burger, since you will be stacking two together. We used provalone cheese, but feel free to mix it up.
Place your top patty on top of the cheese, and pinch it tightly together around the sides. Make sure its tight (that's what she said!), or else you're going to get some serious seperation between the patties. Add whatever seasoning you prefer to both sides now. I used some Lowry's, garlic salt, and pepper, but you can be a bit more daring if you prefer.The next step is to grill to perfection. Make sure to cook both sides all the way through. This is a
thick burger so it's going to take a while. The best approach is a medium to low setting on the grill, so you don't burn the outsides. I prefer mine medium rare because, hey, who doesn't love a little bit of blood in their meat?
Oh, and some chill tunes are important. Make sure you have relaxing, feel good music playing throughout this entire process. Studies have shown that positive music played around cooking meat improves the flavor by as much as 20 percent.Finally, add your condiments and enjoy! Prepare for hot, cheesy goodness mixed with burgerific
perfection. Caution: Hot cheese may spray out, burning your face/mouth. Trust me, it's worth it. And yes, that is the tasty new Mountain Dew flavor THE REVOLUTION next to my burger. THE REVOLUTION is quite a delicious grilling beverage. I strongly reccomend it.
Follow up your delicious burger with a rousing game of outdoor poker. Remember, happy grilling!
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