First of all, if you've been following this blog (and if you're the one, thank you), you've noticed that there's been a four-month hiatus, that I seem to have taken a sabbatical. (In other words, I haven't gotten around to writing anything.)
In my defense, I'd like to say that (a) I've been busy; and (b) yes, I have been thinking of stuff, but it's been predominately political in nature, and as I've alluded to before, I don't want this to be dominated by that. Good thing too, for if I had been writing all the things that I've been pondering, then someone might get the idea that I'm one of those right-wing domestic threats, and I don't need that.
Today, however, I participated in something that I found particularly blog-worthy, so let this be a grand re-opening.
Perhaps you've heard of Kentucky Fried Chicken's new grilled chicken offering, and furthermore maybe you've heard of the Oprah Winfrey Grilled Chicken Meal Giveaway. If you're otherwise too wrapped up in burgers to notice this phenomenon, here's the deal: for a limited time, you can go to KFC's "unthink" page and print a coupon for a free grilled chicken meal. (And I really mean for a limited time; by the time you read this, it'll probably be over. And again, if you're the one who reads this, thank you.) The coupon says that you don't get a choice of pieces, but they're not really going to give you a wing and a neck, are they?
An aside: I'm sure they would want us to interpret "unthinkfc" as "un-think fried chicken", but "un-thin KFC" seems to be oddly appropriate as well.
Today, I go to KFC to try it out, and the first thing I notice is the mass of other people doing the same. The parking lot is filled to capacity, and the drive-thru line is backing up onto the street. Yeah, this'll be fun.
Once inside, I jostle my way through the waiting throng (why can't they just sit down and wait?) and place my order. It's 11:54. I go sit down with my soda and my order number, 3364. I listen for whatever the current order number being filled is, and it's 3330-something.
At this point I'm thinking, they're giving away free food, what did you expect? But I'm OK with the situation: I've got time; I've got a positive attitude; I've got a limitless supply of diet Dr. Pepper. It'll be fine.
There is apparently only one "grill" producing chicken and three registers accepting coupons (two at the counter, one in the drive-thru), and supply is not keeping up with demand. There are bursts of order numbers being called out, punctuated with silence until the next batch is ready. One suspects that the drive-thru customers are getting priority, because if you're actually in the restaurant, you're more committed to the enterprise than someone that is already poised to drive elsewhere.
Or so you'd think. As time rolls on, I see people that have been waiting patiently (or maybe not-so-patiently) leave before their number is called. After all, it's getting closer to one o'clock. (I considered walking next-door to McDonalds and bringing lunch back to KFC to eat while I waited for lunch.) Ironically, not only are there a bunch of people without chicken, there is a growing amount of chicken without people to give it to.
I'm considering the possibility that for every person that is now drawn to KFC for the new grilled chicken, there may be a person that is so repulsed by the experience that they won't be back anytime soon.
And the throng of people by the counter waiting for their order to be called? Still there, and getting bigger. I imagine it was like playing the lottery and waiting for that last number to be called.
At 1:04, my number is finally called. (That's right, seventy minutes and four soda refills later.) I hollered BINGO and got some laughs, and maybe helped diffuse a riot; that's just the kind of civil servant I am. While I'm waiting with my ticket in hand, I catch that the guy behind the counter is offering to give people the normal chicken instead of the grilled chicken, which defeats the whole point of the promotion.
So if you're wondering about "Socialized Chicken", here's the point. I saw this as a parallel to the way that socialized medicine seems to play out: free medical care, reduced choices, high demand, low supply, long waits, giving up to get it elsewhere, substitution of services.
I have no ending here, except to say that I think I'll have pizza tomorrow.
Showing posts with label funny. Show all posts
Showing posts with label funny. Show all posts
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
Thursday, January 8, 2009
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
It's bad, but it could be verse
I'm eating tacos in a mental fog
While contemplating writing in my blog;
something short, direct, compact, and terse,
and then I thought, I'll write it out in verse!
But what to say? What subject shall I choose?
Which format, style, or structure will I use?
Pantameter I chose to utilize
(which English geeks would surely recognize);
Ten syllables in rhyming pairs of lines
Would do the trick! (He does this while he dines?)
The story still eluded me; my plan
To fill the vacant start-to-ending span?
Deciding first upon the ending text
And working on the part before that next!
A proper narrative it's not, I know,
But lunchtime's over and I have to go.
And if you've made it to this point, you see
There's no point to this piece of poetry!
While contemplating writing in my blog;
something short, direct, compact, and terse,
and then I thought, I'll write it out in verse!
But what to say? What subject shall I choose?
Which format, style, or structure will I use?
Pantameter I chose to utilize
(which English geeks would surely recognize);
Ten syllables in rhyming pairs of lines
Would do the trick! (He does this while he dines?)
The story still eluded me; my plan
To fill the vacant start-to-ending span?
Deciding first upon the ending text
And working on the part before that next!
A proper narrative it's not, I know,
But lunchtime's over and I have to go.
And if you've made it to this point, you see
There's no point to this piece of poetry!
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
On the hoof
Q: What's Mooyah?
A1: A web portal specializing in cattle farming.
A2: The new no-nonsense burger joint in town.
A3: The battle cry of the Bovine Liberation Front.
While you ponder, some cow humor:
Knock knock!
Who's there?
Interrupting cow!
Interrupti (MOO!)
Anyway, Mooyah is the newest burger joint in town (well, my town anyway, I don't know about your town), and it's pretty good!
First, a little history: About a year ago, someone decided to build a restaurant on one of the major intersections near my place of employ, and they decided that what the local economy needed was ... a wine bar, and from the looks of it, it was a hoity-toity snotty nose-in-the-air one at that. At the time I thought, good luck to you, you're gonna need it. I did eat there once, and as I recall, I had a plate of steamed mussels with a side of pretentiousness.
Apparently I wasn't the only one who wasn't gracing their doors, because they closed some months later, leaving a building on some prime real estate. It sat vacant for a couple of months, and then I saw signs of remodeling and the hope of another lunch option. Finally last week, the signage went up declaring to the world that this building would henceforth be a Chipotle!
And I thought to myself, well, crap.
My experience with Chipotle is that the food is OK, but the atmosphere is more of the hoity-toity snotty nose-in-the-air ambience that I can do without, especially when there's a better alternative: Freebirds! Better burritos, no pretention, and more body art than you can shake a Montblanc at!
So yesterday as I'm driving by YuppieBurritoLand, I see some other signage toward the back of the building, and I'm straining my eyes to read "Mooyah" and "burgers", and I'm thinking, I gotta check that out tomorrow. Today I had my first Mooyah.
The menu is interesting in that there's not much on it to get in the way of burger excellence. Burgers, fries, shakes, drinks. (Luckily, the soda fountain has Coke Zero, which I can handle if there's no diet Dr Pepper around.) No salad, no chicken. Cheese and bacon are extra, but the sauteéd mushrooms and grilled onions (as well as the normal fixings) are free.
I'll be back, and that's no bull.
A1: A web portal specializing in cattle farming.
A2: The new no-nonsense burger joint in town.
A3: The battle cry of the Bovine Liberation Front.
While you ponder, some cow humor:
Knock knock!
Who's there?
Interrupting cow!
Interrupti (MOO!)
Anyway, Mooyah is the newest burger joint in town (well, my town anyway, I don't know about your town), and it's pretty good!
First, a little history: About a year ago, someone decided to build a restaurant on one of the major intersections near my place of employ, and they decided that what the local economy needed was ... a wine bar, and from the looks of it, it was a hoity-toity snotty nose-in-the-air one at that. At the time I thought, good luck to you, you're gonna need it. I did eat there once, and as I recall, I had a plate of steamed mussels with a side of pretentiousness.
Apparently I wasn't the only one who wasn't gracing their doors, because they closed some months later, leaving a building on some prime real estate. It sat vacant for a couple of months, and then I saw signs of remodeling and the hope of another lunch option. Finally last week, the signage went up declaring to the world that this building would henceforth be a Chipotle!
And I thought to myself, well, crap.
My experience with Chipotle is that the food is OK, but the atmosphere is more of the hoity-toity snotty nose-in-the-air ambience that I can do without, especially when there's a better alternative: Freebirds! Better burritos, no pretention, and more body art than you can shake a Montblanc at!
So yesterday as I'm driving by YuppieBurritoLand, I see some other signage toward the back of the building, and I'm straining my eyes to read "Mooyah" and "burgers", and I'm thinking, I gotta check that out tomorrow. Today I had my first Mooyah.
The menu is interesting in that there's not much on it to get in the way of burger excellence. Burgers, fries, shakes, drinks. (Luckily, the soda fountain has Coke Zero, which I can handle if there's no diet Dr Pepper around.) No salad, no chicken. Cheese and bacon are extra, but the sauteéd mushrooms and grilled onions (as well as the normal fixings) are free.
I'll be back, and that's no bull.
Friday, December 5, 2008
Stupid Friday jokes
A brazen band of theives stole the toilet from the local police office's restroom. They are trying to solve this case, but as of yet they have nothing to go on.
A male porn actor starts a fight with another one during filming and the second sues, and the matter ends up in court. The judge decides to take the "jury of one's peers" literally and orders that the jury consist of other male porn actors. The court manages to seat such a panel, and the case begins. After two days of testimony and a surprising seven days of deliberation, the judge was upset to learn that no decision could be made for they were a hung jury.
A local hair salon reported that a masked man entered and demanded the money from the register and all the day's hair trimmings. The police were called and gave chase but were thwarted when the robber thew the trimmings from his vehicle, blinding the officers. The police have not yet relocated the suspect, but they are combing the area.
A male porn actor starts a fight with another one during filming and the second sues, and the matter ends up in court. The judge decides to take the "jury of one's peers" literally and orders that the jury consist of other male porn actors. The court manages to seat such a panel, and the case begins. After two days of testimony and a surprising seven days of deliberation, the judge was upset to learn that no decision could be made for they were a hung jury.
A local hair salon reported that a masked man entered and demanded the money from the register and all the day's hair trimmings. The police were called and gave chase but were thwarted when the robber thew the trimmings from his vehicle, blinding the officers. The police have not yet relocated the suspect, but they are combing the area.
Thursday, November 27, 2008
It's crappy
This is a recurring thing that crosses my mind every so often, but I rarely express it...
When one uses the bathroom, the general sequence of events is:
1. Remove the intervening pieces of clothing.
2. Perform the necessary eliminatory activity.
3. Put the displaced clothing back where it belongs.
4. Wash hands.
The thing is, occasionally I'd really like to wash my hands before pulling up my pants. There ought to be a sink, or wet-wipe dispenser, or something in the stall.
When one uses the bathroom, the general sequence of events is:
1. Remove the intervening pieces of clothing.
2. Perform the necessary eliminatory activity.
3. Put the displaced clothing back where it belongs.
4. Wash hands.
The thing is, occasionally I'd really like to wash my hands before pulling up my pants. There ought to be a sink, or wet-wipe dispenser, or something in the stall.
Friday, November 7, 2008
A rare find
I had heard that a specimen has been seen in Kansas, but I didn't believe it until I saw it myself!
The once-common gasolinus undertwobuckus, formerly thought to be extinct, has been sighted in north Texas!
Experts say that despite aggressive hunting of this rare species, it will continue to proliferate.
The once-common gasolinus undertwobuckus, formerly thought to be extinct, has been sighted in north Texas!
Experts say that despite aggressive hunting of this rare species, it will continue to proliferate.
Tree humor
This morning I heard the phrase "grandfather oak" in a commercial...
Chip Oak was a senior at Forest High and was in love with Peach, and she pined for him as well.
Shortly after graduation, they tied the knot and decided to start a grove of their own. A year later, they had a girl and named her Heather.
She grew up tall and fast, and when she was sixteen rings old Chip and Peach grudgingly let her start dating. They approved of the more upright suitors she brought home, but more and more she tended toward the seedy guys.
Then, one evening, a guy named Ash came to pick her up. His bushy hair was umkempt and he was smoking. As Heather ran to the door, Chip barked "A bois d'arc like you will not date my little girl!" and slammed the door.
Heather, her heart splintered, ran to her room. That night, she packed a trunk and ran away. The note on her bed simply said, "I'm leaving."
Months later, there was a phone call; Peach answered to hear Heather's voice. When Peach asked where she had been, she said:
"I boarded with Ash and ... and ..."
"What?"
"I'm ... carrying his sapling."
Chip Oak was a senior at Forest High and was in love with Peach, and she pined for him as well.
Shortly after graduation, they tied the knot and decided to start a grove of their own. A year later, they had a girl and named her Heather.
She grew up tall and fast, and when she was sixteen rings old Chip and Peach grudgingly let her start dating. They approved of the more upright suitors she brought home, but more and more she tended toward the seedy guys.
Then, one evening, a guy named Ash came to pick her up. His bushy hair was umkempt and he was smoking. As Heather ran to the door, Chip barked "A bois d'arc like you will not date my little girl!" and slammed the door.
Heather, her heart splintered, ran to her room. That night, she packed a trunk and ran away. The note on her bed simply said, "I'm leaving."
Months later, there was a phone call; Peach answered to hear Heather's voice. When Peach asked where she had been, she said:
"I boarded with Ash and ... and ..."
"What?"
"I'm ... carrying his sapling."
Thursday, November 6, 2008
Watching what I eat
I've very recently become a diabetic.
I've suspected that I probably was one for some time; I have the physique, eating habits, and sedentary lifestyle that collectively scream "Hey you! Stop eating the Ding Dongs!" However, I also suffer from a particular genetic condition that effectively masks all the symptoms of diabetes as well as most other medical maladies. Yes, I have... a Y chromosome.
Those people who have this condition (let's call them "men") have trouble recognizing that something is physically wrong with them. They don't go to the doctor unless serious symptoms occur (like protruding bones or missing limbs), and they still stop for a burger and fries on the way.
My story starts with a bug bite of some sort on my knee. I'm not sure when it happened, but let's say that I first noticed a small inflamed bump on a Monday. I thought little of it; I squeezed it once in a while to see if it was a pimple or boil, but it didn't hurt. By Friday it was a large imflamed mound, but it still didn't hurt.
The next Monday, it hurt a little. On Tuesday, it hurt quite a bit. On Wednesday, I couldn't walk on it, so course it was at this point that I went to see a doctor. On Thursday, after a couple doses of antibiotic had failed to improve the knee or reduce the fever, I was admitted to the hospital. (Didn't I mention the fever before? Of course not. Y chromosome, remember?)
During my four days there, I received all kinds of interesting news. One, the thing on my knee had developed into a full-blown MRSA infection. Two, my blood pressure was high enough to warrant medication. (Again, something I suspected but ignored.) Three, the same was true of my cholesterol count. Lastly (and finally), my blood sugar was higher than it ought to be.
The next Monday (on my birthday, as it turns out) I left the hospital with a handful of prescriptions and a new glucose monitor. It was a week or so until I could walk without pain, and another three weeks or so until I had adjusted to the blood pressure and insulin pills.
Now, I have a healthier respect for my health. From now on, I'll be better about going to the doctor. I'm still going to stop for that burger, but no fries for me. I'm a diabetic.
I've suspected that I probably was one for some time; I have the physique, eating habits, and sedentary lifestyle that collectively scream "Hey you! Stop eating the Ding Dongs!" However, I also suffer from a particular genetic condition that effectively masks all the symptoms of diabetes as well as most other medical maladies. Yes, I have... a Y chromosome.
Those people who have this condition (let's call them "men") have trouble recognizing that something is physically wrong with them. They don't go to the doctor unless serious symptoms occur (like protruding bones or missing limbs), and they still stop for a burger and fries on the way.
My story starts with a bug bite of some sort on my knee. I'm not sure when it happened, but let's say that I first noticed a small inflamed bump on a Monday. I thought little of it; I squeezed it once in a while to see if it was a pimple or boil, but it didn't hurt. By Friday it was a large imflamed mound, but it still didn't hurt.
The next Monday, it hurt a little. On Tuesday, it hurt quite a bit. On Wednesday, I couldn't walk on it, so course it was at this point that I went to see a doctor. On Thursday, after a couple doses of antibiotic had failed to improve the knee or reduce the fever, I was admitted to the hospital. (Didn't I mention the fever before? Of course not. Y chromosome, remember?)
During my four days there, I received all kinds of interesting news. One, the thing on my knee had developed into a full-blown MRSA infection. Two, my blood pressure was high enough to warrant medication. (Again, something I suspected but ignored.) Three, the same was true of my cholesterol count. Lastly (and finally), my blood sugar was higher than it ought to be.
The next Monday (on my birthday, as it turns out) I left the hospital with a handful of prescriptions and a new glucose monitor. It was a week or so until I could walk without pain, and another three weeks or so until I had adjusted to the blood pressure and insulin pills.
Now, I have a healthier respect for my health. From now on, I'll be better about going to the doctor. I'm still going to stop for that burger, but no fries for me. I'm a diabetic.
Opening the can
So I'd been thinking about becoming part of the blogosphere for some time but just hadn't gotten around to it, mostly because I had yet to convince myself why I should. Sure, I have the occasional interesting story, insightful revelation, or stupid rant, but there are millions of the same out there. Does this virtual community really need one more?
Then I thought about vienna sausages. You know, those mushy pre-formed sticks of meat by-products in the little can. Someone's gotta be buying these, because not only do they keep selling them, but they have a wide variety of flavors: barbeque, hickory smoked, jalapeño, and who knows what else. The point is, there's an audience for everything.
The simple truth is that sometimes I crack myself up, and I can't be the only one.
It was just a couple of days ago that I decided to start, and I purposefully delayed my initial blog until after the election, just because I didn't want my first entries to be dominated by that. I'll get to my observations of the political realm, but on the way I'll touch on a seemingly random series of subjects. Food, computers, Guitar Hero, physics, TV, medicine, whatever.
More to come later. I'm in a mood for vienna sausages.
Then I thought about vienna sausages. You know, those mushy pre-formed sticks of meat by-products in the little can. Someone's gotta be buying these, because not only do they keep selling them, but they have a wide variety of flavors: barbeque, hickory smoked, jalapeño, and who knows what else. The point is, there's an audience for everything.
The simple truth is that sometimes I crack myself up, and I can't be the only one.
It was just a couple of days ago that I decided to start, and I purposefully delayed my initial blog until after the election, just because I didn't want my first entries to be dominated by that. I'll get to my observations of the political realm, but on the way I'll touch on a seemingly random series of subjects. Food, computers, Guitar Hero, physics, TV, medicine, whatever.
More to come later. I'm in a mood for vienna sausages.
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