Phone it in Friday
I woke up at 6:30, walked for 45 minutes, worked out, and am STILL way behind on my to-do list. Let’s check the blog off shall we?
Big ideas
A recipe site that is only allowed to just give you the fucking recipe. No preamble about how you tried this dish on your honeymoon in Italy and it brought a tear to your eye, as if you’ve never had pasta before. No step by step pictures showing how to put salt on a piece of meat. Just the quantity of ingredients and the written instructions for cooking the meal.
This one isn’t my idea, but my roommate Slick’s and I want to make sure it gets the proper shine it deserves. In high school, he invented the concept of fried rice burrito bowls. You get an order of fried rice from an Asian place, then a Chipotle burrito bowl with no rice, and combine ‘em. That’s how you do fusion.
Take Tribunal. Any sports journalist who just throws some shitty take out there and reports it as fact when they clearly have not talked to anyone on the team, gets placed before a tribal council ala Survivor. If the council finds them guilty, they get suspended for a month and have to serve as the equipment manager of just jockstraps for whatever team they slandered. Skip Bayless will be drowning in ball sweat inside a week.
If cats have nine lives, why don’t we train them to disarm bombs or something? Makes cutting the wrong wire kind of a non-factor if they’re just going to land on their feet after the explosion.
I always thought it would be wicked funny to have really specific, intense fortune cookies. Like: “A great betrayal awaits you in the new year. Beware the disloyalty of those closest to you, specifically the one you trust most. This is your Last Supper, just with way lower stakes. This threat must be neutralized. Kill them before they kill you! You have 6 days… Your lucky numbers are 8, 43, 69 (lol), 21, and 88”
Sad life snippets
Was walking out of Publix the other day and approached the automatic door. The thing must be set to elderly speed cause I started walking through it before it was all the way open. As a result, my giant ass shoulder drilled into it and knocked it off its track. I walked away quickly but the door did not appear to be closing.
Trying to lose a few lbs this month. Woke up this morning for Friday weigh-in and opted to try to use the bathroom to shed a few extra ounces before getting on the scale. Only thing is I didn’t really have to go. So I’m hanging out in the john, watching some family guy, enjoying my morning, when all of a sudden my body woke up and started “functioning” again. I’ll spare you the details but 30 minutes later I sent these texts to my brother:
Friday the 13th is a real thing. It’s been 75 and sunny every single day since I’ve been down here. The ONE day I decide to talk a walk to and from the gym it starts pissing rain. Like heavy ass rain. Had to ditch my shirt at my parents front stoop.
Tried to floss for the first time maybe ever this week because I started noticing a weird metallic flavor in my mouth, which led me to believe I wasn’t taking good enough care of my teeth. Anyways I get through all the teeth and go to rinse and spit. I spit out like an ounce of blood. It looked like I was between rounds in a heavyweight prize fight. It literally looked like I was Quint from Jaws midway through bleeding to death from shark wounds.
I go to a boxing gym in Boston that is populated by a lot of pretty girls around my age. If I’m ever at a bag near any of them, I’ll punch the bag well past the point of hurting myself in order to impress them. It has only ever resulted in horrified looks and bruised knuckles.
What’s on my mind right now
My parents have a beautiful new house in Florida and they’re rightfully very proud of it. Only problem is it’s like a classy adult house so all the furniture is expensive, their couch especially. I’m not allowed to sleep on it, eat or drink anything that could stain it, etc. So it’s not really a couch, it’s a museum piece. Give me a comfy cheap street sofa whose crevices are filled to the brim with half-eaten pretzels and loose batteries any day of the week.
One time I woke up to find an immaculately clean house, so I assumed the cleaners had come while I was sleeping. But then the cleaners showed up like 20 minutes later. Turns out my mom likes to clean the house so it’s presentable for the people whose literal job it is to clean the house.
Mexican restaurants that make you order chips and salsa as an app instead of just bringing it should be banned. Same with Italian joints and bread/oil. I come here to eat 2,000 calories worth of carbs and ruin the rest of my meal. Don’t take that away from me.
I may do a Fatty Liver Fixes the Economy at some point if shit ever really tanks, but here’s a snippet. All the boring adults I know talk constantly about inflation. Don’t know much about how inflation works, but it seems like the more money you print, the less it’s worth cause it’s a more readily available commodity. Has the federal gov ever just considered printing a ton more money, discretely shipping it out to banks and just not telling anyone that there’s more money in circulation? Like how would anyone devalue the dollar if they don’t know there are more dollars out there? Feels like this would work.
Still so behind on my day. Whatever, that’s Monday George’s problem. Have a great weekend Fatties!
