Man, What A Stupid Commercial #007

Now when it comes to food, I don’t have any problem with Subway generally. Sure, their meat is all pre-sliced, processed, and kind of rubbery in consistency, but when you’re feeling lazy but at the same time you don’t want to eat too much like a slob, Subway is that sort of happy compromise of quick food that’s not completely abysmal to your health. Sure, in the end, Subway for me is like the popular joke about Chinese food and I’m often hungry again in an hour, but for those 59 minutes prior, I’m typically satisfied, and not completely guilty.

Granted, the Subway closest to my house is staffed by a bunch of hoods that once tried to swindle me, and actually thought I was gullible enough to believe that subs for three people would equate to $22 but that’s another story for another time.

But this Subway commercial is pretty stupid, as just about the vast majority of commercials typically are. But it’s at the 0:13 second mark where the commercial goes from typically stupid to especially stupid, when they show a bunch of overenthusiastic teenagers dressed to the nines on what appears to be the night of the prom – going to Subway for dinner.

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What the fuck is wrong with the Japanese?

A French restaurant in Tokyo is essentially serving dirt. And charging upwards of the equivalent of $110 to do so!  What the fuck is wrong with Japanese people?

Seriously, it’s hard to imagine that this is like one of those situations like lobsters, where lobsters were once the food of the poor, but then was turned into the epitome of high-class dining by some talented chefs.  It’s fucking dirt.  You know what people eat in North Korea because their dictatorship hoards all the edible food for the regime?  DIRT.  It doesn’t matter how much they describe it as “natural and pure,” it’s still shit from the ground that’s part volcanic ash, part excrement, part decayed organic matter, and all well, DIRT.  There’s no lower denigrating terms to describe than what it already is, it’s fucking dirt.

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I JUST WANT A BANANA SPLIT

Atlanta’s food scene is sometimes aggravating.  I can tell you about thirty different places where you could get an interesting taco or some barbecue, or where to get more tacos.  Tacos are very popular for some reason, which I can’t really complain about because I do like tacos too.  But the bottom line is that I know Atlanta has some pretty good eateries, the variety sometimes feels lacking; I have no idea where to go if I wanted a massively stuffed pastrami sandwich like what would be available at a classic New York Jewish deli.

But of all the recent food trends, the one that currently has my ire is the very much now overkill trend of frozen yogurt shops.  Specifically the ones that label themselves as “Fro Yo” because people are too fucking stupid to actually verbalize the words “frozen” and “yogurt.”  And I especially dislike the ones where customers have to serve themselves, with bucket-sized cups, soft-serve machines, and toppings where most fat people are too indulgent to show any restraint and end up spending $7+ on a bucket of frozen garbage.  When I go into an eatery, I’m paying money for people to do the fucking work for me, to serve me; not make me down my own fucking work.  And how stingy has the world become to where food is literally measured on a scale and charged by the ounce?  Eyeballing it, human error, and the honor system used to be sufficient, but now these fucking FroYo joints want to charge you every single penny including the weight of the cup for every transaction made at these shitty business models.

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Photos: Celebrating good things

So, on Moloch Day, a bunch of us decided to go out and celebrate good things.  No, of course we weren’t celebrating Moloch Day other than the fact that it got a bunch of a us a day off of work.  It just so happened that Moloch Day was also Miss Allison’s birthday and it turns out that both Jen and I had some reason to celebrate that I’m not really at liberty to talk about, but whatever, we gathered at The Melting Pot and scared off random strangers with abrasive conversation, as well as fondue’d it up for a pleasant evening.

I will be the first to admit the disappointing quality of the pictures in this gallery.  This was more or less the first time that I brought out my new point-and-shoot, and I will also be the first to admit that I hadn’t really used it prior to this night, so it was completely oblivious to me that when in low-light mode, this camera for whatever reason is locked into a lower quality.  The result is a lot of photos with compromised quality, and a lesson learned to really avoid using the low-light setting well, ever again.

Leave it to me to screw up what is supposed to be the simplicity of the point-and-shoot, but it too clearly needs a little bit of understanding to get the best out of.  Regardless, photos:

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How I would improve the prison system

Personally, I think today’s prison system is all wrong.  Completely, unequivocally wrong.

Criminals who are killers, rapists, and most often times dangerously violent people, are put into tight quarters with other criminals who are killers, rapists and most often times dangerously violent people.  Now add a whole bunch of weights to lift, equipment to exercise with, and large yards for them to workout in.  Ration their meals to tiny, portion-controlled, bare-minimum nutrient servings.  And if it’s like The Shawshank Redepmtion, have a library and an Andy Dufresne, where prisoners can learn, expand their horizons, and become smarter.

And then after five to ten years of all this, set these motherfuckers free – physically chiseled and hardened, likely smarter, and probably with a whole lot more knowledge from the other prisoners who might have been willing to share their personal knowledge, connections and information.  Send guys back out on the streets way more dangerous than when they were first put in prison.  What a brilliant legal system.

Fuck all that.  If I controlled the world, all of this would be the exact opposite.  I guarantee the world would be a safer place.

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Photos: Thanksgiving and dog pictures

As has been a tradition for a few years now, Jen and I opened up our home’s doors to those of our friends that did not go home and/or to see family for the Thanksgiving holiday.  So instead of listening to awkward lectures and reasons why I’m living my life like an imbecile, I instead have the company of less judgmental friends, and we dine just like the majority of Americans do on Thanksgiving – with a big fat turkey, and tons of fatty rich sides, and then we play games all night long.

Oh, and I was also taking a lot of pictures of my dog in his awesome shark costume.

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Mafia Graves gun update: Into the zero hour

Dragon-Con is now a day away.  The good news is that in spite of all the delays, side-tracking, and assisting in Jen’s projects, I have every intention of getting the gun completely, 100% finished tomorrow evening.  While others will have already arrived and begin filing into the host hotels, I will have one last relaxing evening at home, where I can unveil the tape covering the wood panels, and apply the last gold accents.

As for the rest of this night, I will apply clear coats to the gun and prepare for finalization.  I need to stop going to bed at 1:00 a.m. on work nights, but it looks like tonight will not be any different.  Tomorrow, or rather today, will not be the same case hopefully.

I am very excited for this weekend.  I still have to pack, and make one good final run for room snacks and biiru.

In another minor topic, this post makes 34 on the month of August.  This is a new high for me for any individual month.  I also pat myself on the back for being a consistent brogger.  I think I’ll celebrate such achievement with a Four Loko this weekend.