Mall Rats

Jen and I just finished watching Mallrats by Kevin Smith.

I'm sorry to say I've wasted my whole life up until now. Wasted.

South Carolina!

So I've started doing the 50 state quarters collection. It's my contribution to the economy. OK not really. I've been looking for SC for a while so I could complete the year 2000. I got it today in change for lunch.

How geeked out is J.R.? Well now I have a little piece of paper and I carry it around so when I see quarters I know which ones I need. Next two big ones on the hit list are Pennsylvania and New Jersey. Where is Tony Soprano when you need a favor?

Moving Day!

So today at work I'm moving buildings again. Unfortunately I'm leaving my palatial triangular office in what I called the green house and moving to a boring rectangular office on the second floor of a boring building with a lame cafe... doh.

The Ivory era comes to an abrupt end

I have used Ivory soap for a long time. How long? I can't actually say, but I'm pretty sure it's been longer than a decade. See I bought like a costco size of it before I moved to this house and this morning I unwrapped the last bar. Ivory soap is marketed as very pure. It's just soap. No smell, no color, no Irish chick waiting for you by a waterfall to jump you because you smell so nice. Nothing. It's just soap.

I think because of this it lasts a long time. It makes sense that if I were making soap (not that I make soap. I don't. Not my thing really.) and I don't mean small decorative soaps you give as gifts at holiday times. (Also I don't make soap like that or at all. No soap making here.) I mean commercial soap making like Proctor and god from whom I purchased this soap. I wouldn't want it to last. I'd want it wither away in the water just as quickly as possible so that my dirty customer (I wonder what kind of porno hits I'm going to get for the phrase, "Dirty Customer.") would need to replace his bar of soap pronto. Ivory fucking lasts. I swear I've been pulling that soap out of the closet for years. Years. Each bar lasting a long time. Yes I wash with it. Shut up. Durable fucking soap. I liked my durable, clean, and pure Ivory.

Until today. Today when it hit the water it went from it's pure white soapness to something evil. Something almost unspeakable. Something, in short, gross. It very quickly developed, like a cheap horror movie, brown spots. Big brown spots. Big brown nasty spots on the soap.

It was like I rinsed off the pure coating of good to uncover the diet coke of evil under it. Soap with brown spots is nasty.

What did I do? I pitched it. No I didn't wash with it. Instead I used what was left of the penultimate Ivory bar aka the Last Soap Chip (soon to be a movie from Touchstone Pictures).

The ultimate solution to my brown soap issue besides a lot of therapy? Jen so kindly bought me a few bars of dial from target. Three to be exact. Not a decade worth, because Soap goes bad.

Who knew?

Combos follow up

OK so the other flavor is bacon egg and cheese biscuit.

Did I try them? Yes.
Did I hate them? Yes.
Did the bag smell like dog treats when I opened it? Yes.
Did I like them? At first I only sorta disliked them. As time wore on I ate about 1/4 of the bag and they got worse and worse as I ate. I had Sam throw them away way before I was 1/2 done.

Did I experience after taste? Yes.
Am I thinking right now about how good pepto sounds? um you go ahead and guess, I'm gonna go look for the pleasnt pink bottle.

I like pie

I also like twitter. I think twitter takes the blogging out of me incrementally so I don't end up blogging. This is an excuse. Do you see that?

I do. Do you care? I didn't think so.

Do I? No.

Seriously?

Having had an awesome weekend in Portland meeting up with Duff & SuperEggplant and her Brother. Eating awesome food including donuts from rice flour that were super yummy.

All that and now I'm in a meeting where the people in the meeting are arguing over non relevent stuff. It's not my meeting so I'm blogging this instead of jumping their shit.

What is the opposite of hypocrit?

Well I guess it's me. I said I was going to go out to eat on Thursday for a good cause. Then I did.

So that's not hypocritical. It's hypercritical? no. just critical? I don't think so. I don't know, but I went to Crave with Jen and a friend of her's from the homeland of Boston that I hadn't met before and we had a great time.

Who knew a golden beet looked like that? Who knew?