In order to plant myself firmly in the thick of the whole “Here are some pictures of food I made, and a list of things you need to do to get food to look like these pictures” craze, I’ve decided to share one of my favorite dishes with you: Beef Ravioli in Tomato & Meat Sauce.
Looks tasty, doesn’t it?
Here’s what you need:
One can Boyardee Beef Ravioli.
Add one plate.
Throw in one finger.
Combine can contents with the uppermost surface of the plate.
Cook in my microwave for precisely one minute, nine seconds.
I got a free landline and cable with my Internet from SureWest.
Today, I found a cordless phone in one of my boxes and decided to give the old landline a try. I enjoyed talking to my parents without worrying about frying my cell battery.
However, I got two telemarketer calls tonight. One was going to give me a free cruise, and the other was magazines. My thought upon the second call: “Maybe I need to go ahead and put this phone number on the No Call List.”
Then, I realized I need to interface this phone with the computer so I can mess with telemarketers’ heads and post the results here as MP3s. Plus, I don’t know my phone number.
I voted today. Can you guess which municipality received my help? No fair guessing if I hung out with you immediately before or after voting. As an added bonus, we will see how few people still read this crappy blog.
When looking for the perfect booze to enrich your night or morning, just follow my easy, one-step process. Look for the “Lightweight Plastic” seal of approval.
I don’t appreciate the ad you served up for me today.
Your “targeted advertising” needs to make the girls in the ad a little more slutty looking before I fall for this trick. Have you learned nothing from MySpace on how to net some morons?
Can you believe the crowd at the Republican National Convention taunted Sarah Palin’s pregnant teenage daughter with chants of “Drill, baby, drill” this week? What won’t the Republicans do?
Do you know how many times “God bless America” has been uttered this week? Yeah, lots. In prime time, too. And it’s always at the end of the speeches, when everyone is paying attention. And then we drop balloons or shoot off fireworks or some combination of the two.
According to my count, you’ve got lots of blessing to get to.
Mr. Goodcents is about as good of a sub as you can buy for the money. It puts Subway to shame. If you don’t have one in your city, I pity you. That being said, Mr. Goodcents puts a tip line on your credit card receipt, hoping to guilt you into poneying up a tip for someone who prepared your food. Fancy restaurants don’t offer a chef tip line on the receipt, so why would a sandwich shop? Asinine.
Meanwhile, the Red Balloon karaoke bar has a tip jar for the DJ. During karaoke Wednesday night, the bar’s other DJ got up to sing a song, and scolded the crowd for scant tipping. First off, don’t you tip at the end of “service?” Shouldn’t you tip when you leave, if you were to believe a karaoke DJ does anything to justify a tip? I’m fine with someone bribing their way to the front of the karaoke list, but the dude is still just changing out CDs.
The tipping culture in this country needs a serious readjustment.
I’m not worried he’ll die in office. His longevity concerns me, nonetheless. If he causes the world to explode, he really didn’t have much time left, anyway. It’s like letting a rapist go on a Girls Gone Wild photoshoot right before you castrate him. Sorry, that’s the first analogy that popped into my head.
As I was leaving Wendy’s for lunch yesterday, a young woman was sitting, Indian style, just outside the door. She was on her cell having a loud, uncomfortable, bitch-out session with her boyfriend.
What the hell is wrong with people? And you just know her and the douche on the other end of the phone are going to have ten dumbass kids together.
Like a child distracted by jingling car keys, we’re all too busy creaming ourselves over Phelps to see anything else.
John Edwards cheated on his cancer-stricken wife during the Presidential campaign she encouraged him to run, even though she was in awful shape.
Russia worked up a massive boner and has been waving it in Bush’s face with its invasion of U.S. ally Georgia.
At least the opening ceremonies freaked out a lot of people. You can pull off quite the scene when you force all your citizens to play their assigned role to perfection.
My roommates’ dog Berry likes to chew on anything (too much teeth, not good for recreational purposes). But Prewitt’s wifebeater has been available for chewing all week. The dog sniffs the shirt, gets Prewitt’s scent, and leaves it alone.
Moral of the story: If you don’t want your dog chewing on something, piss on it.
A plant, whose existence would be meaningless, found meaning by messing up my existence. Feel free to chew on that hefty load of profound before reading on.
I’m pretty sure you could power cars with the crud that seeps from this crap. I know I won’t need to buy Pennzoil for awhile.
Screw waterboarding. If interrogators use poison ivy on terror suspects, you’d find Osama in seconds. Okay, not seconds, but seconds after symptoms heighten 2-4 days after contact. Do you think poison ivy grows in the Middle East? Sand dwellers would freak at the powers of this mystery plant. USA! Note to CIA: Why haven’t you hired me yet?
Something good will come of this. I will stop being a pissy little bitch about bug bites for maybe a whole week.
Remember how terrible Batman & Robin was? Thanks to Chris Casey for pointing out this nugget: “BATMAN AND ROBIN WORST MOVIE EVER.”
It’s missing from the montage, but my favorite line from that movie was when a police officer used his last breath to point out to the other cops that “Our lungs…(gasp)…are freezing!”
Dear everyone who feels the need to comment on my 1998 Corolla,
I’m aware of the problems with my car. A brake light is smashed, I have to roll down my window to open the door from the outside, the sideview mirror is cracked, the washer fluid pump is broken, the cabin noise is high.
However, I get 32 miles a gallon and the thing never breaks down. I’m driving this bitch into the ground whether you think my Corolla is the shiz or not. It gets me where I need to go. Oh, and girls slide out of their seats at the sight of me driving it.
For now on, I shall do any public restroom flushing or door opening with my left pinky. I use the left pinky less than any other digit, so it seems like a smart idea to use it when touching areas with latent fecal matter.
I don’t root for the downfall of too many industries, but record labels can’t die soon enough.
Instead of embracing and capitalizing on web distribution, record labels pissed their leg and fought the web’s ability to move music. They were too busy fighting Napster to invent iTunes. They were too busy fighting iTunes to invent Pandora. Now that artists can release their music on the web, the record labels have nothing for the future.
Have you heard? The Olympics are in China. China will regret this. The focus of these games will be on how China treats its people, not on the tired storyline of records falling thanks to new technology.
Journalists and spectators from around the world will experience a censored Internet. The Internet is essential to journalists. When they can’t get to 50 percent of their favorite sites, they will expose just how bad China controls the flow of information.
China is in a great position now. Publicity could bring them down a notch or two.
The City Council voted unanimously Tuesday to place a moratorium on new fast food restaurants in an impoverished swath of the city with a proliferation of such eateries and above-average rates of obesity.
The yearlong moratorium — which the mayor still must sign into law — is intended to give the city time to attract restaurants that serve healthier food. The action is believed to be the first of its kind by a major city to protect public health.
Newsflash: Fast food restaurants are in poor areas because poor people can afford to eat there. “Restaurants that serve healthier food” would be in these areas if it made economic sense. Plus, almost every fast food restaurant has healthy menu items.
Can’t we let people be responsible for their own fat asses just once? Maybe LA could start an ad campaign: “Don’t eat your face off, and you won’t be so fat you have to walk through doors sideways.”
