Generally speaking, I think I eat fairly healthfully. I am wrong… having grown accustomed to eating only the mildest berries of the forest during my time in the Bio Brigades, “fairly healthy” for me is eating my bark and foliage with a little bit of cream. I jest, of course – I’m more of a nuts and berries kind of guy.
But! Every once in a while the siren call of the way I used to eat, and once in a maroon moon, I heed it. Tonight was one of those times. The siren in question, pleading her false case to my willing ears? Ach, the sailors speak of her only in whispered tongues… for she is the one known only as…
Dear Foul Wretched Spawn of Society,
I am truly sorry your precious snowflake did her absolute damnedest to be removed twice from our store by stealing, moving her lips and producing such a great wind as to knock over merchandise, and then refusing to place it back where it belongs, which I see you’ve taught her well.
No joke, there really are Ethiopian restaurants. It’s just like going to a Catholic brothel or a North Korean car dealership. You may be asking, “What, do you go there, sit down, and starve while the world ignores you?” But the advertising for these restaurants says they are completely normal, and deny that the food will be brought in by aid workers.
Chronic MMO is a degenerative disease that frequently affects students and computer users in general. It can progress into stages that can result in incredibly unsanitary practices and eventually in a state of apparent death to the rest of the world.
Let’s face it; people are getting lazier all the time. Everyone knows it, especially your grandpa who used to walk to school in the snow every day and blah blah blah derpy derpy doo and so forth. And in no aspect of our lives is this more apparent than in the way we get our food. Observe:
So… I have returned from behind the Great Firewall, a bit shorter and a bit more slanty-eyed, and with the distinct inability to pronounce words like “bus” and “campus” without inserting a mysterious “r” sound after the “u”. In China I learned many things, from how to properly use a car horn while driving (as a signal that there is something within 50 feet of the front of the car), to how to avoid getting hit by a child happily cannoning streams of urine into the street. Two months of endless diarrhea at the hands of Wuhan food, all of which contains loads of chili peppers, coupled with the inevitable circumstance that non-potable tap water would somehow end up in my stomach, have turned my rectum into the strongest muscle in my body, and lost me about 15 pounds. A week in Beijing renewed my appreciation for being able to see more than half a mile in any direction. Two months in Wuhan, where heat indexes routinely cleared 120 degrees Fahrenheit, renewed my appreciation for more temperate climes. Okay, that last bit’s not true at all, Pittsburgh weather is still comparable to diving into an olympic-sized pool full of mayonnaise-filled water balloons. I think the point of all this is, the Chinese are awful at English.
Hello friends and welcome to the second edition of the Cookbook series. This time, we will be looking at a couple of my favorite summer themed recipes and food ideas.
Monday:
Today started off pretty well. I arrived before the break room was out of fresh coffee, and the manager even recognized my good work at the staff meeting. Then at some point after lunch we had the gremlin infestation. It’s hard to tell exactly when it started, or how they got in the building, but I have a funny feeling it has something to do with that mysterious old Chinese guy who set up shop right next to our offices.
This summer I am working for a party and tent rental company. I usually get assigned to tasks in the warehouse, but occasionally I’m sent out to drop off or pick up rental equipment. I seem to come across a more diverse range of smelly things and places while out on the road, but the warehouse has its fair share of odors as well.
