Dec. 24th, 2016 10:19 am
Who's eating a box3 of Batman v Superman breakfast cereal2 right now? I'm not saying it's this guy right here for sure1, but the odds are definitely in my favor.

1This guy right here will eat almost anything, given the chance4.
2This cereal comes in two varieties: the Batman flavor and the Superman flavor7. I am currently working with the Batman flavor5.
3Pedants among you might be noting, "But [ profile] chaosvizier, you're just eating a bowl of cereal poured from a box, not the entire box itself." WRONG! You can't be a glutton if you don't try, and I ain't no quitter.
3aPROFIT! Usually that's number three, but sometimes I forget.
4Notable exceptions to things I will not even try: Casu Marzu cheese.
5Why exactly does the Batman flavor involve strawberries? Really just curious from a marketing standpoint. "Ok, we need two distinct flavors, one that represents Batman, the Dark Knight, and one that represents Superman, Last Son of Krypton. Any suggestions? ... Yes, Jensen?" - "BATMAN TASTES LIKE STRAWBERRIES!!!!!" - "...Any other suggestions? Anyone? Anyone at all? ... *sigh* Fine. Strawberry it is. Also, Jensen, you're fired."
6Merry Almost Christmas, everyone!
7If you're wondering whether I deliberately bought this box of cereal, the answer is yes, and also I routinely make strange and horrible impulse shopping decisions in the grocery store.
Oops, this one was for yesterday, but I was out the whole day and passed out at home before using The Internets. So let's catch up and make it good.

[ profile] mitchy decided that I should talk about puddings. The best, the worst, the one I can't live without.

Let's do this like a boss. A boss pudding.

I'm going all over the place with this entry. Try to keep up. )

In summary: most puddings are good, unless they're trying to kill you.
So, the other day, I made a food.

Now, some of you know me well enough to immediately be skeptical, if not outright disbelieving. And you would be justified in your reactions. My skill in the kitchen is... less than exemplary. My culinary masterpieces range from simple cold-cut sandwiches to Hot Pockets, with only Ramen Noodles in between. The microwave is my weapon of choice. I have messed up pasta. I have messed up sandwiches. I have set Spaghetti-Os on fire. Really, the kitchen is not my domain.4

So, when I say "I made a food", even I wouldn't believe me, if I hadn't been... well, me.

This actually does not end in tragedy or horror. I am as shocked as you are. )
Today's breakfast has been brought to me by the letters SUG and AR, and by the number LOTS.
The subject line really has nothing to do with this post at all. Just rambling on about things that I've done recently. Things that are fun and different, as opposed to normal everyday things like poopin'.

Part 1: I <3 V-Day. No wait, I <3 alcohol. That makes much more sense. )

Part 2: Sports? Moi? Of course not, why do you ask? )

Part 3: See-Saw. That's a terrible pun that I just thought of. I should not be proud, and yet I totally am. You'll see why in a second. )

Epilogue: How to make alcohol better. )
Today one of my co-workers gave me some candy.

In other news, the thesaurus tells me that the phrase "Fortunate Johnson" is completely awesome.
To lead into today's movie review, I have to throw in some background on what happened before that.

Basically, the New York Food Festival was this weekend, and my wonderful partner in crime HG got us tickets to go. This is because I love food, and where better to satisfy my gluttonous cravings than at a festival dedicated in its entirety to tasty morsels?

Two important facts to digest: first, make no mistake, there is a substantial amount of food involved at this event. So much so that even at my most omnivorous I have a hard time sampling every last tidbit that is offered. This does not stop me from trying, nor does it stop me from thinking "if I puke now, I'll have more room for the rest of the festival..." more than once. I do not take that drastic step, mostly because I want to see what incredible farts my gastrointestinal system will produce when the hodgepodge of comestibles finally blend within my belly.

Secondly, "Food Festival" is a gross misnomer. This really should be the "New York Alcohol Festival, With Some Food Thrown In To Keep You Moderately Sober". As we waited in line for our round, a large number of attendees were leaving in what could be described as not merely a state, but rather an entire country, of inebriation. And I am convinced that a good two-thirds of the display tables in the festival were devoted to wines and spirits. This also says something, if the remaining one-third of the tables were enough to fill my belly. Make no mistake; the festival is huge. And drinking most certainly did occur.

So, for the better part of three hours, HG and I explored every inch of the festival, tasting samples, picking up recipes, and drinking. This year we were smart and made sure to keep hydrated during the festival; last year we came out of there utterly tanked and completely wiped out. This year our stamina was of higher fare, and we decided to go to a movie to relax and recover. What better movie to choose after such a delicious outing, you might ask?

Cloudy With A Chance Of Meatballs

Could I get more hungry after the afternoon's consumption? Amazingly, yes. )


Sep. 5th, 2008 03:25 pm
I am eating a lollipop.

Let's interrupt this story by saying something that is obvious to those who know me: I'm willing to eat anything once. I'll give practically anything a try- cow brain, tongue, liver, and so on. There are relatively few exceptions to this aspect of my personality.

Sometimes, this leads to a wondrous discovery. Black Pudding? Not really as bad as it sounds. Limberger cheese? Stinky, but not terrible. That little worm at the bottom of a tequila bottle? Overrated.

That being said, sometimes this leads to great horror.

Now back to our story.

I am eating a lollipop.

The lollipop is, cutely, shaped like a half-circle slice of watermelon, and this image is also reflected on the lollipop wrapper. And one can indeed detect the hint of melony flavor in the distance as one rolls the lollipop over one's tongue.

This melony sweetness, however, is vastly overpowered by the lollipop's OTHER flavor, which does not appear as a picture on the label, and instead is buried in six-point font at the bottom of the wrapper, in the list of ingredients. See if you can spot the thing that doesn't belong:

"Ingredients: Sugar, Corn Syrup, Citric Acid, Titanium Dioxide, GUAJILLO CHILI, Iodized Salt, Artificial Flavors, Blue #2, Red #40, Yellow #5."

I am thoroughly disgusted with this thing, and yet somehow I can't stop eating it. This may be indicative of a different aspect of my personality, one which stubbornly refuses to give in when faced with a stupid decision.

And yes, [ profile] fizrep, in case you are wondering, this delectable treat did indeed come from Mexico. It did not, as you perhaps thought, contain any tamarind, though whether that's for better or for worse remains to be seen.
What, you say? How can I possibly write a post entitled "Fun With Cooking"?

Well, in all fairness, you do have a point. My cooking skills are legendary, and not in the good way. The kitchen is not my domain. And I did once set Spaghetti-O's on fire. Not one of my finer moments, indeed. However, when serving as an assistant to someone more trained than I, then I can function in far greater capacity.

Sort of.

But in reality, this post is not about my skills in the kitchen. It's about the net result.

Cut for pictures and non-vegetarian awesomeness )
So, the other day, last weekish sometime, was my birthday. Once again, SO OLD!

Things I did, followed by Things I thought about. Oooh, introspective! )
This post is dedicated to anyone I know in the Australo-Pacific region.

Yesterday, my lunch consisted entirely of a box of Tim-Tams. Yes, a whole box. Yes, Tim-Tams. You guys are right- they're pretty damn good. Once again, the Land Down Under proves its worth.
These past few days have been quite impressive, food-wise.

Food. It's good for you. Eat it. All of it. )
This weekend, there was a wedding.

This story does not actually talk about the wedding, but what came before. It's like a prequel, see? )
While one may or may not debate the quality of my many skills, one thing is unarguable: the kitchen is not my domain.

Why can't everyone just cook with a microwave? Like, seriously? )
So... it's a New Year. And like any New Year, it should start off with a bang.

Well, alright, this was two weeks ago and all that. I'm slow. Sue me. )
The Embassy of Iran brought me a big box of Godiva chocolates for the holidays. I declare this third of the Axis of Evil acceptable in my sight.
Many months ago, I had a most tragic encounter with a box of Girl Scout Thin Mint Cookies which resulted in most of them leaping to their horrible fate inside my belly. It was heartbreaking, in that sugary-sweet chocolate-covered kind of way.

There is another such box before me.

The following statements apply to this immediate situation:

A) "Those who do not remember history are doomed to repeat it" or some such nonsense.
B) I was never really any good at history in school.
C) In the time it has taken to write this far, I've eaten about 40% of the box's contents, including the cardboard and a plastic wrapper.
D) Despite not having smoked weed in, say, ever, I have a wicked case of the munchies.
E) Make that 45%.

Conclusion: This is gonna cost me.
Last Friday we were accosted by ninjas.

Segue into obvious story here. )
Once again, comedy moviedom rears its ugly head and demands cheese. And I, for one, will heed that call, and give you a movie made entirely of cheese and vegetables.

Wallace And Gromit: The Curse Of The Were-Rabbit

I just reviewed a claymation movie two weeks ago. How odd... Is the claypocalypse upon us? )
I really do feel badly about the fact that some thirty Girl Scout Thin Mint cookies were so overwhelmed with despair and worldly sorrow that they felt the need to commit mass suicide by leaping into my all-consuming maw. I did not want to be proxy to their fate, yet I had no choice but to chew and swallow in self-defence, lest their incredibly minty goodness choke the very life from my body. Requiescat in pacem, little ones. Your story will live on forever.



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