The Dark Side of Food

Lately I've been eating more than blogging--well, I tend to always eat more than blog, as it would be rather boring and my fingers would bleed down to the bone otherwise--where were we? Ah food. Well, I've had a few odd encounters and more than a few wise non-encounters with bizarre creations.

Living in Ohio, home to all things fried (including Pepsi), I'm used to encountering fried pickles, fried, Twinkies, and my favorite (really they're delicious) fried snickers, so I suppose it shouldn't be alarming that a recent commercial for Steak n' Shake mentioned its lighter healthier fare, including a sandwich with not one but two fried pieces of what they described as chicken. Speaking of Steak n' Shake, well more so speaking of having the shits, the documentation that comes with Alli mentions bringing extra undies with you everywhere just in case something leaks out:

• "You may feel an urgent need to go to the bathroom. Until you have a sense of any treatment effects, it's probably a smart idea to wear dark pants, and bring a change of clothes with you to work"
• "You may not usually get gassy, but it's a possibility when you take Alli. The bathroom is really the best place to go when that happens."

Now if that's not enough to help you loose a few pounds, I dunno what is. Oh, speaking of leaking out, recently they've been showing these macho older dudes riding on Harley's and shit and talking about pissing oneself. I can't recall what the things were called, but I joking call the dude diapers Hoggies.

Gosh, where is this going? Who knows--back to food. While wandering through the various midways and exhibit halls at the state fair I saw a poster advertising a roast beef sunday. Yeah, you read that correctly. Who needs, fudge, caramel, nuts, and that lone cherry when you can have mashed potatoes, gravy, meat that's claims to be beef, and cheese glorious cheese!. Maybe that have cans of whipped sour cream to spray on the top.Perhaps the only thing scarier than this is a poster I saw last week. While wandering the halls of my workplace I saw an advertisement for a lunch special for today (8/13/07--the day that will live in infamy). It mentioned that there will be sushi in the cafeteria. Next to McSushi, Nationwide cafeteria sushi is about as dubious as it gets. Oddly enough, my girlfriend designs ATVs or something like that at Honda, and they don't have sushi in the cafe--maybe that should be a damn good sign that we shouldn't have it here? Well I wandered down to check it out, and thankfully they veered clear of raw fish, but they did manage to create many combinations that should never ever be made again. Just because you can make some odd rice dish, it doesn't mean you should roll it in seaweed. They had some form of rice pilaf rolled up like sushi. WTF? At least the lady behind the counter looked passably oriental, not that that means much--some of the best sushi I've had was made by Mexicans. She probably got her degree in the sushi arts at Devry or ITT tech or OSU--they all blend into one school in my mind.

Maybe I should get my appetite back by ogling at a root beer float cupcake.

Stuart and Kuma's Big Adventure

Probably the most consistent part of our lives is the existence of our two largest pets: Kuma the bovine like St Bernard and Stuart the goat in a Bassett Hound's body. Both have their charms, and I suppose we love them equally (I'll never say that under oath though), but we definitely like Kuma more. His unassuming self deprecating manner (much better than a dog with a self defecating manner) and overall need to please us makes him so much easier to deal with. Anyway, this isn't an ode to our dogs, though I suppose it could have turned up that way.

You see this past Sunday, which started like most Sundays--well except for the fact the weather was beautiful and we opted to not go to the zoo. We were just too doggone tired to do so. I had a wild and crazy night out with my friends who seemed to need to get away from it all. Being young and crazy we ended up parting ways and going home around 11:30pm. I returned home to see Liz immersed in the world of Harry Potter (I had finished earlier that afternoon). I ended up staying up with her past 3am (two nights in a row after 3am--what's next--hosting a Harry Potter rave?). Ok, back to Sunday, we pretty much lounged around the house, finding one sound reason after another not to exert ourselves. Once dinner time approached, I fired up the grill and braced myself for what was to come (having a 170lb St Bernard jump on you is never easy, but bracing oneself can keep your head above your feet). Oddly enough what was to come never did.

Hmmmmm. Where's Kuma (oddly enough I wasn't that worried Stuart was no where to be seen, as I know he is our cross to bear and will always be there)? I called for the big beast, and still I couldn't see or hear him. I looked in nearby yards for a confused pony sized dog (he probably could somehow step over the fence (not much of a leaper, but he is THAT tall). I even called for Stuart against my better judgment. Sadly it all was for not. Desperate I looked over to the gate, which was not closed!

I half expected to see an exhausted St Bernard laying under the tree in the front yard panting like crazy and a Bassett Hound head deep in our trash can, but neither was seen. After alerting Liz, I began my hunt. Knowing that a dog the size of a growing buffalo is not something that disappears stealthily I stopped the first car that roamed by our house. After trying to not look like a car jacker, I got them to roll down the window. Before I could finish asking they nodded rapidly and pointed to the corner not far away. They weren't much for words, but after seeing a giant dog a giant human likely wasn't what they wanted to see next. The hunt continued.

I ran ahead to the corner they pointed to, and there was someone watering their lawn. Only in Ohio do people stand in their front yard with a hose and manually water the grass--quite a bizarre practice, but they smiled and said you own that big thing and pointed to the next corner (which wasn't that far away, but I still couldn't see them). I ran ahead (well maybe I walked fast), and just at the next corner was some kid doing something--can't recall, but he likely thought he looked cooler than he really did. Anyway, he said what's his name and asked which dog was mine. At this point I realized I had only asked folks about Kuma, but I'm not 100% sure I was acting on my greater affection for him or my knowledge that Stuart is a curse that we must bear--most likely it was just the logical reasoning that it's 100x times easier to see a dog that's closer to the size of Mr Ed than Lassie. In any event, it wasn't long before I rounded this corner to see a happier than he should be St Bernard bounding about and a dutiful Bassett Hound sniffing a trail to god knows where.


That pretty much ended Kuma and Stuart's big adventure. I wasn't smart enough to bring collars let alone leashes, so I had to verbally wrangle them--easier said than done, but it didn't need to last for too long, as Liz appeared in her trusty CRV to serve as animal control. Thus their moments of unbridled freedom ended safely. Stuart continues to hound about the gate, and I'm sure he won't forget the endless world of smells out there. Kuma quickly became beyond exhausted after he not only walked farther than he's used to but did so jumping and galloping like a horse with hemorrhoids.

Friday Freak Show

Last Friday was a day many people have been looking forward to for some time--myself included. You see many of us dorks, especially those of us who have read books bigger than Myspace for Dummies, have been waiting for the last Harry Potter book to be read--well what for now will be the last Harry Potter book--my money is on a god awful septology prequal, with a whiny Voldebrat and Jar-Jar Wizard. Let's hope I'm wrong. Anyway, the book came out; lots of people pre-ordered books; and there were huge masses of people waiting to get their book--kinda like the iPhone launch but with costumes and people getting their money's worth.

While I do enjoy a good book every now and then, and I find the Harry Potter books to be worthwhile reading material (a one way ticket to hell would be reason enough), I mostly put aside my usual wild and crazy Friday nightlife aside for a week to freak watch at Borders, and I looked forward to it. I had some pre-work to do, as one needed to get their line position during the day, and when I showed up at 9:30am (they open at 9:00am) and saw a line of people who looked a little too much like they called the sidewalks there home, I was a tad bit scared. We (Liz was just as eager, but for reading every bit as much as people watchin--perhaps even more so) got place #116 in line, which altogether didn't sound bad. We planned on showing up around 11 to claim our place in line, gawk, and get out.

We got there around our planned arrival time, but to be honest I don't know when, and the parking lot was packed. Ugghhh! The store not surprisingly was packed too. It was loud, crowded, and there were more than a few annoying people. People can be annoying due to their loudness, their tone of voice, their sense of self importance, their smell, or sometimes for just being too ugly. We experiences all of those kinds of annoyances--sometimes in just one person! It wasn't all bad, as we got to see would be Quidditch players (complete with brooms), wannabe witches and wizards in their Hogwarts garb, wannabe Malfoys and other specific characters (including someone WAY too old to pull off Tonks), and lastly folks who thought their gear for the renaissance festival needed to be wore twice this year (what no theme weddings to go to?). beyond the annoying folks and those dressed up, we encountered people who obviously haven't left home in a while (I suppose when the last Harry Potter book came out), and they were overwhelmed by it all. Some of these folks were shaking (then again they could have been that pumped about Harry Potter). Anyway it all was good fun, but we were very happy to get the hell out of there.

Of course after all that fun there's nothing else to do but head home and start reading, which we did.

I'm a Genius

Few things survive through the millenniums as pyramids, and few things can be guaranteed to succeed as those that have made it through the millenniums. These two facts are relatively benign on their own, but when a genius puts them together, well you have brilliance. Bask in my glow.

While others have built pyramids in recent years, they have made them into various trivialities as casinos, arenas, or entrances to museums. These aren't structures for the ages, and all in all, they are just rubbish. Greatness demands more, form must follow function. Pyramids, the structures people visit, the things on the dollar bills (which is what it is all about--money that is), and the structures one can see from space--they were the final resting place for royalty--ney gods who walked the Earth. What made them gods? The fact that they were buried in pyramids! We all want to be divine (that's why there are so many Mormons), and we all want to walk among the gods (that's why Zeus was such a mack-daddy--no real answer why no one wants to invite Mormons into their homes), so why not sell divinity?

Sell divinity? Yeah, that is my scheme dream. I need some help from investors, but why not take some abandoned land, scare off the hobos and shit, and build a giant pyramid. We could use prison labor (to make it authentic, we kinda made slavery illegal, but it seems to be a good compromise) to get it done, and when done it would be a giant mausoleum. If people pay thousands to be hacked up and frozen, why wouldn't they want to be hacked up and put in Canopic jars? Want to kick it old school and take it with you? We can offer treasure rooms, space for your loyal servants (you'll have to make arrangements to kill them, as I'm not a murderer--a scoundrel yes, murderer no), and even a fancy curse if you pay enough. Given that it would be quite an addition to the cityscape, I know I could get taxpayer funding for most of it, and hell it would be quite an urban revitalization. We could open up a Valley of the Kings shopping mall, a Nile River waterpark (crocs optional), and a Cleopatra's beauty school (she wasn't really that pretty, but we all have room to improve).

Once this works, I can sell franchises in other cities. Soon there will be pyramids everywhere and a whole prison system of really buff and rather tired inmates. Gosh watching COPs has become much more practical, as it is a form of job fair. I need to get to work! Anyone want to be my HR manager?

I guess I like Craig more than that dude Tom

As y'all know, I'm an avid photographer, and some might say a good one (my philosophy: if you take enough pictures, one has to be good). For the past 3+ years, I've enjoyed my trusty Panasonic FZ10, which somehow came to be known as the "Fluzi" among its owners. Now, it wasn't some cheap fluzy--it cost most of my bonus a few years ago, but it certainly paid for itself through not having to buy/develop film. It also made the film camera I got just a few months before rather unnecessary. Anyway, I got a new camera a few weeks ago, one camera to rule them all!!!

Believe it or not, this blog isn't so much about getting a new camera as it is about an odd phenomena--Craig's List. While I got my new camera along with a lens, the combination is best for nearer subjects, not the distant critters one sees at the zoo and other places I wander. I knew this getting into the whole affair planning on using the proceeds from selling my two cameras to buy an uberlens. That's where Craig's List comes in. I had sold things via the company classified ads (they're online), but I knew the bigger net I cast, the higher price I could get. I really didn't want to mess with eBay, so I instead posted a few ads on Craig's List. at first it seemed too easy, offers started pouring in, then I realized that when you filtered out morons who thought a 35mm camera was digital, scams involving mailing it to Nigeria as a wedding gift in exchange for some dubious money order, or people who got cold feet and suddenly needed to tend to sick puppies (heard that a few times), it wasn't as easy as it seemed. In the process I mentioned Craig's list to a coworker who sold a boat in a manner of hours. Frustration set in, but in the end I got rid of both cameras and a PS2. Not bad.

All in all the place really seems like quite the active marketplace, and I suppose I'll use it again (you can't beat the price). I'm still amazed how close to the price of a new item someone will pay for a used one. Geesh. Oh, for you camera buffs out there, I got a Nikon D70s (refurb--yeah I'm a cheap German bastard), 18mm - 135mm f/3.5-5.6G ED-IF AF-S lens, and a 70-300mm f/4.5 - 5.6G ED-IF AF-S VR lens.

All of my newer pics can be found here.

Where the Buffalo Roam

Liz's folks decided to pay us a visit, and having seen many of the sights in California earlier this year, we didn't want Ohio to disappoint. To that end we tried to show off all that Ohio had to offer, which is well, not a whole lot, but what can you do? Anyway, among our various travels we went to The Wilds, a 10,000+ acre wildlife refuge.

Ten thousand acres of wildlife almost sounds like OSU's campus, but it's much bigger, and it even smells better. After driving the hour and a half to get there, we learned how 10,000 acres were just sitting there for giraffes, rhinos, and buffalo to move in: it was a former strip mine. Ah, the natural beauty of Ohio. Actually, you really couldn't tell the origins of it all, and it was quite relaxing to be away from it all.

We also discovered that our promised half off admission for being Columbus Zoo members was about as full of shit as the piles the rhinos left behind, but it was still worthwhile. Enough bitching, well, maybe after a smart ass remark about starting the tour by gazing upon wild asses. Perhaps giraffes would make a more dramatic kickoff to it all. Who knows.

Not quite as exotic, though still rather cool were the buffalo. I must say baby buffalo look almost cute. Almost cute enough to make me regret eating buffalo short ribs a couple days earlier (not to mention all those wings). Anyway, they like everything else really didn't mind us, and considering they were about as big as the chopped up school bus we were riding, I can't blame them for their confidence. Hell, I hardly fear a Mini approaching me as I'm strolling through a crosswalk.

We also saw rhinos and cheetahs, but we didn't really get close enough to get good pics--not that I'm complaining. I tend to have a high level of respect for things that are a lot bigger than me, especially things that are a lot bigger than buffalo. Maybe that's why I don't eat rhino. You have to draw the line somewhere you know. We did get to see some warring Sichuan Takin. I didn't get any pictures of the dominance ritual, which most dog owners call "humping". I don't know what they call it in prison, but I suppose I don't want to find out either.

Were you expecting this blog to have a point? My bad, I basically just wanted to post a bunch of pics. You can see all of them here. See ya next time!

Life's Great Mystery

Sometimes I'm left with a great question that demands an answer, and now is such a time. Recently we've taken to watching the Lord of the Rings trilogy as an attempt to help us sleep. Watching these movies, in there extended versions can really lead one into a tired stupor and eventually a restful slumber. We also have been listening to the Harry Potter books on our iPods, and I always think about Star Wars. The question, if you were to want one man to have your back in a gang fight, who would it be? Gandolf, Dumbledore, or Yoda?

Yoda is a badass, like no other in that galaxy far far away way back when. He's so full of those MIDI accordions that he could start a techno polka band. When you see past all of that Jedi Jive, it's hard not to see him as the star of Little People Big World Degobah Edition. I could also see him getting tossed around by some drunk wookies in a cantina on Kashyyyk. I suppose that's better than dealing with that whiney farm boy Skywalker.

Dumbledore is pretty tough, the only dude that Vol He Who Must Not Be Named, is afraid of. He can take on loads of aurors without a scratch on his back, and he can have a bit of a smart ass streak to boot. Then again, he is the brother of a guy who does god knows what to goats, plus he puts up with Harry's thick skulled nature far too much.

Now Gandolf, he fought death and won. He can manipulate rulers, use wicked magic, and even whack someone on the head as needed. He is wise beyond anyone's imagination, and he isn't afraid to get down and dirty. Moreover, he also can shave that beard and bust out that groovy purple helmet and bend metal and shit. He could have gotten Luke's X-wing out of the swamp; he could make car's fly; and he could kick some serious ass. Gandolf is who I'd want to have my back.

I'm a dork.

The Irony of all Ironies

I can't believe I haven't written about this before, but i suppose it was out of a bit of kindness that I refrained from telling this tale. Looking back, it's really just a good laugh.

Last year, in an attempt to not appear to be the old man I am, I relented to Liz's persuasion to get around to reading those Harry Potter books that are so popular with the younger folks these days. I had managed to work my way through five of the books, with only one left to go (there were only six written at the time), and I knew that it wouldn't be too long until I managed to finish that one as well. Liz was at her PC, doing what she often does, perusing through the wonderful web of Harry Potter sites, forums, blogs, and other stuff crafted by folks with way too much free time. I sat, amusing myself with her quest, likely with thoughts wandering about my mind about god knows what. Anyway, I sat there and heard Liz giving an account of some jerk posting a spoiler about the end of book six on a person's blog, hours after the book was released. This person was a jerk because, few people could have read the whole book by then, and they should have knew better.

The irony was that Liz revealed the spoiler in her account, complaining about this dude's insensitivity, she told me Dumbledore was dead, knowing I hadn't read book 6. She inadvertently did the same thing the jerk did, but unlike him, she didn't mean any harm, and I laughed then as I do now. It was just too funny.

Ahoy Matee

I have written in times past about my odd liking for less than popular sports, whether curling, Formula 1, World Cup, and America's Cup, and now after enjoying the mundane strategy of Curling in 2006 and the thrilling excitement of World Cup later that year I have the good fortune of looking forward to another America's Cup.

The America's Cup is the oldest trophy in sports, and I've enjoyed watching the feats of strategy, seamanship, and awesome bits of engineering that goes into building these multi-million dollar dollar vessels (one team spent $200,000,000 in a losing effort this year) for over twenty years. I know few people know about the America's Cup, fewer still even know its going on, or what channel to watch it on, and I imagine more than a few folks would argue that yachting isn't a sport. I guess I have a foreign soul that longs for things forgotten by most Americans, after all, a billion people, few of which are Americans, watch the America's Cup races.

Gateway to the West and the Beginnings of a Jihad

This past weekend, Memorial Day weekend for those of you who may have missed out on it, was an occasion where Liz and I packed our bags and headed west. Not as far west as we had done for MLK weekend, but certainly enough to provide a pleasant change of scenery. The destination this time was St Louis, where our friend Michelle calls home.

Our journey out there was rather uneventful at first, with our driving past a 198 foot tall monstrosity of a cross in F'ingham being the only thing of note. Sadly it wouldn't remain that way for long, as we drove past two cows getting it on (well a cow and a bull). It's not as cool as it sounds, rather disturbing. Besides that, we pretty much could have forgotten the trip (dealing with the idiocy of Indiana gas stations is another matter).

So we get there, make our greetings, relaxed, hung out, and enjoyed one-another's company. We enjoyed their hospitality as well as the chance to meet Michelle's husband and sister. Being Memorial Day weekend, there was plenty of stuff to do, including a Greek Festival at an Orthodox Church, which also offered tours. Being that we all like learning new things and looking at different things, we took the tour. It started well enough, with an Orthodox Church architecture 101 as a beginning. We then we tricked into going church proper and grabbing a seat. The friendly approachable deacon type fella was replaced by an incredibly passionate priest, who thought we should pray as much as we breath. Finally, they brought in a recent convert to seal the deal, a former Lutheran minister no less. It didn't take long for him to basically say the world, with exception of the Orthodox Church, was going to hell in a hand basket. He proceeded to get into a spat with those who had the misfortune to sit behind us (ironically a former Orthodox Christian turned Lutheran--who could have asked for more?). We found a way to sneak out and make our exit. Good people watching, but the baklava was better.

Knowing us, it shouldn't be a shocker that we went to the zoo in St Louis (if nothing else the pictures should have been a clue). The zoo there is huge and free. Ironically enough, even given the free nature of it all, it seemed less crowded than the zoo here in Columbus. It was nice to see different animals and different environments. The zoo was in a large park, which also had an art museum and some space for festivals and performances. Both were used, with an interesting mash-up of a Shakespeare festival and a African Art show.. I'll let you picture it all.