I didn’t watch any recent Republican debates. This is not because I didn’t¹ think it would be entertaining, or for any political objection to our democracy being made mockery-of; I didn’t watch them because I don’t have cable. Is that an authentic revelation or am I just cheap? I’m certain I missed a lot of zingers and whole lotta intentionally inauthentic behavior and I’m also certain it would have been pretty boring.
Category Archives: Humor, Satire
3 Irrefutable facts:
- We are all creatures of habit…
- Habits are hard to break….
- Burritos are the best comfort food on earth as well as the most perfectly engineered super-fast-food (as long as the tortilla and foil hold).
Up until recently, they were the province of those who lived in states within relatively close-enough proximity to Mexico. Not anymore. Damn you Chipotle.
I railed against a horrible ailment that stricken’s us all when I used to work in The Mission (San Francisco) — the failure of many of us to expand what I succinctly and elegantly coined, our TADSTFWFL.
I’ve seriously been at a new job downtown (Seattle) for less than 3 weeks and I’ve been to Chipotle 3 times. Seriously 3 of 12 days – 1/4 of all lunch’s for you math nerds, with the others filled with some pretty awful Chinese, leftovers or a company party.
McDonald’s used to own Chipotle I thought? Then they were super green for recycling all the used paper towels into the bowls they put their delicious “burrito without the bun” or whatever they call it into. They are publicly traded and I should definitely buy their non-consumable stock, because the line to buy the stuff is horrendously long.
that Repurposed Here…
Stretching the boundary of Comfort.
It is a little known fact that 54% of all statistics are made up on the spot. A more well established statistic is this: The Average Distance Someone Travels From Work For Lunch (TADSTFWFL) = 1.189564450 sq. blocks. For someone downtown this means eating the same sandwich over and over again from the same 5 or 6 places. For someone who works in SOMA it means eating out of the same dumpsters time and again.
Considering Ovahere.com is situated in the beautiful and historic Mission, I would surmise that I ate around 548 burritos from within a 1 block area of our office last year alone. I love these burritos, and they love me, there’s no denying that. They are undoubtedly delicious and fulfilling in the moment, with their guacamole, black beans, salsa verde, rice, carne asada/carnitas/pollo, crema y cilantro (and of course love), but each one is bordering on the surgeon generals recommended daily caloric intake and 4 times the recommended fat intake. That coupled with the Popeye’s that is within 10 feet from the entrance to our building leads me to the conclusion that I should be morbidly obese any day now. Popeye’s is actually nominally better for me, because at least the portion sizes are only recommended for 3 people. Despite what G.W. says, the future is not big and bright; it’s almost bed-ridden.
For the sake of simplification we will refer to the 1.189564450 sq. block area that the average American worker walks to get lunch as their “Area of Comfort” or AC for short (not to be confused with OJ’s number one homeboy). That being said I go on a mission (pun intended) to walk outside my AC about once every 3 weeks, or about as often as I used to go to the gym when I was still tricking myself into paying them every month. I tell you it is remarkable what you will find if you just walk a little beyond the border of your AC — quite remarkable. I’ll give you an example: I was making my bi-monthly conscientious effort to move beyond the AC and what did I stumble upon? That’s right, you guessed it, Pizza! Yes in between Mission and Valencia on 21st St. there is a great little hole in the wall with tasty slices. If I had never bothered to look beyond my AC, it would have remained hidden.
On another such venture I walked even farther down Mission and found a gem called Pete’s Barbeque. This is a 50’s style diner that serves up roast beef sliced thick right in front of you on homemade bread and tender ribs slathered in tangy sauce. The place looks like it hasn’t been remodeled since it was opened, but considering the block of Mission it’s on, it appears relatively clean. I have one might call an “addictive personality”, especially when referring to fine cuts of bloody red meat. Needless to say I got stuck in a little bit of a rut with Pete’s and it was incorporated into my AC, which definitely wasn’t the point of my exercise. Only when I was affected by a bout of dysentery (unfortunately caused by the lack of hygiene at Pete’s) did I take a break. Everyone in our office had been turned on to the beauty of the Pete’s roast beef sandwich, but we all suffered the same way after eating that beautiful sandwich.
What is the point to this breakdown of conventions you may ask? It’s that we all get too accustomed to things being a certain way, we get fat and happy, but it’s a façade. To truly be happy you must go beyond your limits, find that pizza or tasty-yet-dysentery-causing sandwich, and you will have truly found satisfaction. It’s out there people, just go that extra block.
I’ve made it my life’s work (well, passion project I guess you’d say) to silently mock people that use terms like “right on” in ernest. Whenever the phrase is uttered I shudder with joy and silent superiority and a knowing grin that says “right on” right back to you, but really means, “saying ‘right on’ sucks.” I’ve been thinking more recently with my advancing age that maybe, just maybe, I’m a bit off-base on this whole phrase-hatred. Really, it’s a nice, well-intentioned thing to say and a throwback to the 1960’s when everyone just did drugs with flowers in their hair, and smushed each other in giants piles of smelly, hairy, unprotected ecstasy – and what’s wrong with harkening back to this simpler time with this simple saying?
Since the 1990’s, in my experience, the phrase is generally used to thank you for handing them a beer or any other menial party favor, or, even worse, it’s used to AGREE with something, unlike it’s original intent, which was just to say something different than, “far out.”
“I think Nixon was our greatest living President.”
“Right on man, but wasn’t he, like, a dick or something?”
“Right on, I thought so.”
See, it’s ridiculous. But since having a kid, I’ve softened a bit, and realized that maybe my opinions on the subject matter are off-base. Maybe my contempt is simply masking my jealousy or insecurities about language and the freedom some have to use it as they please, frankly, because it’s a pretty far out saying. Now, don’t get me wrong, I’ve railed against things like “FREE HUGS” signs and I will never stop until all of those signs have been destroyed and the sign waivers are behind bars, and I still strongly believe I’m right on that one. But… I just responded to a text with “right on” – and it was totally involuntary and I didn’t feel gross about it at all. Maybe I’m getting soft, or maybe, just maybe, its not such a bad phrase after all.
As many of you know, I am a strong believer in cliches as a catchall for anything and everything. Not only did I write about my overall love of cliches SEE I can write stuff! but I also wrote about my new favorite type and use case for cliches, the military jargon for corporate communications cliche!
I’m always thinking about things to help improve the human race through technology and innovation while keeping in mind that cliches are totally awesome and usually 110% right. With that (you all signed and returned the NDA right?), I introduce Clichebot (pronounced like an elongated Tebow; phonetically: KLEEEEEEE-Shay-BOW), the human-like bot that can read your emotional state and react with both the perfect and perfectly timed cliche.
Go Clichebot! Go!
We are looking for a combo British man-servant and schaedendfreude-ian German staccato voice. If you have that voice or know someone with that voice please let them know that there is an amazing opportunity that they will be unable to say no to. They should look a bit like Mr. Belvedere, but be considerably more dry and droll and draconian, and they should be willing to pretend they are a robot.
Clichebot will not be your siri, he provides nothing of value beyond delivery of the ultimate cliche at the right time. Timing is his M.O. and will be algorithymically based and will have computers and stuff in his stuff.
Here’s a bit of ad copy I’ve written for the prototype (currently in beta in a remote location in Sri Lanka as well as the US patent office).
Clichebot is currently accepting voice-over applications. While we initially had our heart set on the voice of Kit from Nightrider, in all likelihood that guys voice sounds nothing like Kit anymore and will be prohibitively expensive (we’ve already spent all the R&D money on various his-and-his outfits for Clichebot and ourselves). This clichebot will be the Roomba of human-like cliche delivery. If interested in sending us your demo tape than think about making an mp3 or some sort of digital recording, we don’t have a tape player. If you insist on the tape, please send along a vintage yellow walkman with really expensive Beatz by Dre to listen to your recording with.
Don’t worry, Clichebot isn’t here to make you feel worse about yourself than you probably should already be feeling about yourself. He can be nice. Sometimes, you want your robot friend to comfort you with a cliche like, “tomorrow’s another day” or “you’ll get ’em next time” or “at least you don’t have cancer,” and he’s programmed to know when that cliche is most crucial to deliver (facial and body language recognition, and keywords like, “fuck” and “shit”).
He’ll be the best friend you ever had. In good times, n’ bad times, he’ll be friends forever more. Winter, spring, summer, or fall, all you have to do is call.
Who couldn’t use a best friend in this economy?