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| On Saturday night Matt Chou and I managed to successfully make a "Thanksgiving" Meal for over 15 people, although our garlic/onion mushrooms didn't roast like we had hoped (the grill was, scientifically speaking, craptastic). The burgers we had bought from the butcher turned out to be quite nice, so last night (Sunday) Matt, Phil and I decided to buy some more and have them with the soon-to-be-roasted mushrooms. Excited about seeing the glorious racks of slaughtered animal in the butchery, you can imagine our collective disappointment at its not being open (though the hanging frozen cows were happily in the window). So it was off to Tesco, where apparently a burger costs 7p more than one from the butcher, and is not all meat. We bought 8 burgers and 4 buns to split amongst ourselves (4 double deckers), and went back to hall muttering, "This is gonna be awesome...". When the time came to cook the burgers, we realized what the burgers were actually made of. It seems they were 85% meat and 15% BONE. I pried off of one patty while cooking it an inch-long white bone, leaving us queasy to the stomach. Upon eating the burgers we discovered many smaller bones scattered around our meal. We did not eat the 4th burger (we donated it to Front Hall). The ladies present in the kitchen insisted that this rock-hard white substance was actually gristle, but they didn't see the majestic incher that we did. It seemed, actually, that the patties were more like 70% meat and the other 15% was grease. The pan we used continuall filled itself with greasy oil, so we had to dispose of it between burgers. Naturally, the first place we turned to in order to rid ourselves of the offensive liquid was the sink...whoops. I mean, who would have known greasy oil solidifies? We sure didn't. So after about 5 minutes we look in the sink and see that the oil has congealed itself into something quite incredibly like this: 
A poor maiden saw this mess and made to scoop it out of the sink with her fingers, but our heroic intervention (OMG NOOOOOO) saved her from that fate. We decided to put our scientific manly minds to the test. What dissolves stuff? Acid. We grabbed some balsamic vinegar and poured it onto the mass blocking the drain, only to remember as it occurred that vinegar and oil simply don't do anything together. If not acid, then a base! We poured some dish-soap all around the sink, grabbed a tin-foil towel, and wiped it down. SUCCESS! All in all, the Smarties cookies we bought were really tasty. | | |
| You guys remember the Jell-o jingle? "J-E-L-L-O, it's alive!". Maybe it's just me, but that seems like a rather disturbing way to get kids to eat your product. I'm sure that if someone told you in a convincing manner that your cheeseburger was alive, you'd find it hard to digest. But I guess it was just the times, because I can also remember commercials for "Creepy Crawlies", little rubber (or were they edible? I don't think we distinguished between the two words back then anyway) insects you could make that seemed creepy, crawly, and alive. So if the basis for food appeal has gone from dead and cooked to slightly raw to "It's alive!", will the chosen dish of the next generation of American kids be Fresh Fetus, the crunchy chewy sensation?
Another catch-phrase that interests me is the Navy's promotional motto, "Accelerate your life". Now, I'm no code-breaker, but it seems to me that that roughly translates into "Die sooner". Before we know it, our amphibious forces will consist primarily of overdramatic, emo-goth suicides who decided that if they were going to die an early death, they might as well follow the navy's advice and serve their country while at it.
That's all for now. You folks give me a piece of your mind. D-mac out.
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| A list of things that would be put into action should I someday become Dictator of the World:
1. Any person asking me if (s)he can ask me a question will promptly be
put to death by defenestration. Should no windows be available, the
offender will suffer decapitation, with no chance of recapitation.
2. The letter "Q" will no longer be plagued with its redundant
requirement of an adjacent "u". Either that or "Q" will be publicly
executed.
3. VH1 will finally show music videos again. In fact, its entire
schedule will be made up of the Top 20 Countdown and the odd random
video, those quirky and entertaining culture countdowns they do, Best Week Ever, and
episodes of "I Love the <insert recent decade here>".
4. In relation to the above mandate, Ahmer Haleem will be the only
person ever allowed to host the Top 20 Countdown. That bald dude will
be imprisoned for life.
5. Softball will never be shown on any sports channel over any hockey game.
6. The British royal family will no longer be royal in any sense of the
word, unless they somehow get themselves elected to high positions of
their ORDINARY NEIGHBORHOOD. ONLY I WILL BE ROYAL.
7. To make sure nobody thinks I'm cruel, everyone will be allowed their
own theme music to follow them around. Except, of course, when the
Imperial March theme from Star Wars is heard, signaling my approach.
8. Nickelback will be jettisoned into space, all traces and documentations of their existence as Canadians will be incinerated.
More will be announced as I see fit.
You folks give me a piece of your mind.
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| So . . . I'm going to Scotland for college. I now seem to be suffering from what scientists refer to as "excitement".
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| SOOOOO MUCH HOCKEY!
SOOOOO DELICIOUS!
HOW DID I LIVE LAST YEAR?!
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