I don’t care if it was human flesh

In light of all the heat that Taco Bell is under for the allegations that their “beef” isn’t really 100% completely beef, all I really have to say is, who cares?

I will continue to eat Taco Bell food as I see fit, because I simply like Taco Bell food.  I don’t give a shit if it’s not 100% beef, as it’s debatable to the authenticity of any foods not prepared by yourself, since you don’t know what’s going on behind the doors of the kitchens of the world.  But most importantly, I find Taco Bell food tasty, and as the title says, I don’t really care if they secretly have been using ground human cadaver to fill the gaps in the meat, because I’d still continue to eat it.  In fact, I’d probably eat more, to assert my position as higher on the food chain than the typical human being.

The best part of this whole debacle is that reading about it on the internet, the hordes of the morally self-superior are out in droves, detesting Taco Bell, and the fast food industry as if their own bodies were Edens or Utopias of their own accord.  How they think they’re so above legitimate business and those who like occasional fast food, in favor for all their bullshit beliefs and opinions.  Yet, if even just half of these hypocrites are the stereotypical smarmy internet commenters, than they’re also the ones craving a gordita when they’ve been out drinking wine or PBR with their snooty friends, smoking cloves or pot, and probably doing far worse to their own bodies than I am by indulging in a beefy crunch burrito once or twice a week.

What do Taco Bell and Chick-Fil-A have in common?  They’re both fast food.  Yet CFA is seemingly absolved of doing any harm despite being crazy religious cultists that produce some magnificent chicken products, but Taco Bell is the anti-christ because of allegations confirming what everyone’s already aware of – that their beef isn’t really 100% beef.

Bunch of fuckin’ hypocrites, everyone.  I’m totally going to get a beefy crunch burrito tomorrow.  I crave this, beef or no beef.  I’ll imagine it to be human meat, and enjoy it further while I sink my teeth into it.

Food Boner

There’s a time in every man’s (or woman’s) life where they watch something very graphic, disturbing, unusual (usually some fucked-up porn), and they can’t take their eyes off of it. And when it’s finally over, the man stands up and then realizes that he has, an erection (women, the horny equivalent). Despite the unfathomable visuals just seen, somewhere, unconsciously, it appeals to some deep-down carnal, primal desires, manifesting into an unexpected arousal.

I call bullshit to anyone I know who says this has never happened to them.

Today, jupe sends me this link for this video of Four Loko Chili. And watching through this abomination creation and subsequent consumption of this dietary nightmare, my mind was telling me “jesus christ” but my stomach was letting me know that somewhere in my digestive system, is a food boner popping up. Deep down, I want to be friends with these guys so I could partake in such epic culinary creations.

It’s not even the fact that Four Loko is mentioned in this that made it interesting, in fact, I could very well do without any more Four Loko in my entire life for the matter. But everything prior to the incorporation of the Four Loko would be something I would totally be down trying, and willing to stuff my face with. It’s completely the opposite direction that any normal human being should be headed, but I find that eventually, the food boner must be dealt with.

The Thanksgiving and Brack Friday post

I passed out from the triptafen in the turkey a little while ago, and I’ll probably be up until 3 a.m. as a result.  For what it’s worth, Thanksgiving was a pleasant and successful affair this year.  Despite the fact that I kind of wanted to go visit my family back in Virginia this year, finances, and the residual fear of leaving home, being unable to defend it from batarians, it turned out to be a good holiday regardless, with tons of good food, in the company of friends.

Brack Friday was just as successful this year, and most importantly, very low-stress.  I already have a big-ass TV, decent sound system to go with it, the house already has an XBOX 360 as well as a Piss3, and we’ve got a lot of decent video games.  The movies I want to watch I can see via Netflix or other means, and I’ve got functional computers, as well as a perfectly good netbook.  So in other words, I had little reason to want to go out for Brack Friday this year, but still felt compelled to seek out a deal, because that’s what we do as capitalist Americans, still desire to purchase shit.  In the end, I found an awesomely priced 14-gallon shop vacuum for the garage from Lowe’s for $29.99 down from $79.99 that I was able to secure online, and pick up in-store without having to awaken at ass-O’clock, and when we did eventually go out to shop, at a “normal” hour, I was able to acquire a Logitech wireless keyboard / mouse combo from Radio Shack for $20 down from $40, and some clothing from Old Navy for relatively cheap.  Despite the fact that I didn’t really have the disposable income to blow in the first place.

But anyway, I’m feeling contented, and pleased with the way the holiday has gone so far, and I’m hoping that this year will mercifully end as relatively low-stress as this Thanksgiving has been.

A Bad Direction

Lately, I’ve been struggling getting up in the morning to run. A combination of not regularly working, but mostly the fact that at 7:00 am, it’s as pitch black as Wesley Snipes outside, and I can’t really fathom running in it. So, I’ve been skipping my morning jogs far too frequently, which obviously, is not a good thing.

Worse, I’m posting such thoughts from a Five Guys. I’m going to become a (worse) jealous fatty again at this rate.

Thoughts on Portland, Oregon

On Monday last week, I hopped on a plane, and flew across the country to Portland, Oregon.  The reasoning was pretty simple – I wanted to see a baseball game.  The team was The Portland Beavers, which are a minor league affiliate of the San Diego Padres, and their home park, PGE Park is regarded as one of the nicest parks in the minor league ball circuit.

There isn’t a whole lot of explanation necessary to why I would exert so much effort in flying across the country in order to see a minor league team called “the Beavers.”  I am, admittedly, a big kid at heart, and I snicker every time I say, or someone else says “the Portland Beavers.”  The 14-year old in me demanded that this trip come to pass, and pass it did.  But most importantly was the fact that the 2010 season is the last year for the Beavers, and after it’s over, their park is being converted into a full-time soccer stadium for a fucking Major League Soccer team (The Portland Timbers . . . lame), and the Beavers are more or less being kicked out of town, and leaving the name behind in the process.  So it boiled down to a now-or-never scenario, to where if I didn’t make the trip on Monday, there would be no seeing any (baseball) Beavers, ever in my life.

The Beavers more or less gave me a convenient excuse to ever want to go to the state of Oregon, a state that I had never been to, in my entire life, and never really had any reason to until recently.  I had a fairly eventful time out in Portland aside from just the baseball game itself, and I’m glad that I made the trip, even if I did get stranded at the airport, and have to shell out the money that I don’t necessarily have to pay for a motel for four hours.  I look back at the experience fondly, and feel little regret that a trip with immature motivations, and for a minor league ballpark wound up being the furthest traveled, most expensive, and (planned) shortest baseball road trip I made this season.

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Photos: Portland, Oregon Day Trip

As I mentioned on Monday, I went to Portland, Oregon on a whim.  Simply put, I wanted to see the Portland Beavers minor league baseball team, at their own place, PGE Park, before the season ended, and Monday was the only plausible game that I could have a chance to make it to.  Fly in the morning, take advantage of the time change, watch baseball, wander around the city for a few hours, take red-eye flight back home.  Everything went exactly as planned . . . except for that last part.  I guess it’s not a baseball season until I get stuck somewhere far the fuck away from home at least once.  I think I’m really going to reconsider standby flying when it comes to the West Coast for future reference.  But it was still an awesome trip.  I’ll probably write more about it later on when I finish up my backlog of things I want to write about.

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