Thursday, October 23, 2008

I need a DVR



Jesus Christ fellating a syphilitic rhesus monkey! That shit is awesome. I would watch the fuck out of this.

[h/t With Leather who found it here.]

Wednesday, October 22, 2008

Confessions of a spice addict

My name is Sham and I'm a spice addict. It started innocently enough 11 years ago. Just a little dab of Sriracha on my bowl of bun. Then just a dab wouldn't do me. Slowly over the years I would add more Sriracha to my Vietnamese cuisine.

But if Vietnamese food was so much better with spice, why not other foods? I had always gotten my wings mild but a new universe of "hot" wings unfolded in front of me. I started ordering spicy food at all the restaurants that offered it. I would confront scared Chinese waiters with "No, I want is hot! I want it spicy! Not round-eye spicy but real spicy! I'm serious!" (This may have contributed to the fact that I'm no longer allowed in The Peking Dragon but that is a story for another time. And why is it that most traditional Asian cuisine is so good if it lends itself to spice? AKA, Japanese food can suck it.)

But as my fondness for hot and spicy food grew there was always a stumbling block. My long time feud with vinegar. The acrid smell in my nostrils starts a gag reflex. All forms of vinegar ruin food for me unless masked by more strong flavors. The worst are malt and balsamic vinegar, which will cause my gorge to rise. And almost every American hot sauce is primarily vinegar.

For the longest time I just went through bottle after giant bottle of Sriracha. The paste like consistency and lack of a biting vinegar nose made it the perfect hot sauce. I keep a bottle at work, home, GF's house. The major downside of my hot sauce of choice is that many restaurants (non-Asian) do not carry it. Since most commercial eateries don't make the spicy food spicy enough this creates a dilemma.

I soldiered along bravely for a long time. In the last year I started experimenting with American hot sauces again. I need my heat! At first I only used it on pizza when crushed red pepper was not available in sufficient quantities (i.e. at somebody's house). Then I tried mixing different hot sauces with other condiments (btw, H57 and Red Rooster is so fucking money).

Then came this past weekend. Up in Athens in the middle of a complete day of frolfing the meatatarians hit up a Kebap shop. I needed spice bad. I doctored up my ketchup with Tabasco brand Chipotle sauce (about 50-50). I used up the rest of the bottle on the sandwich and had to go get a backup bottle to finish the sandwich.

And then yesterday the unthinkable occurred. I bought a bottle of vinegar based sauce for myself. It was the aforementioned Tabasco Chipotle sauce. I immediately tested it out on some leftover sweet potato chipotle shepherds pie. Between eating dinner and seasoning today's lunch I have used half of the bottle. A buck fifty of hot sauce already used! Now, this stuff isn't very hot but the flavor is great! You have to add another hot sauce to get the proper heat but a nice flavor base to cover it is awesome.

I'm seriously considering getting a gallon jug of that stuff. I'm officially a fucking addict.

Labels:

Thursday, October 16, 2008

Ah, football

Finally, proof that football coaches are another breed of men. I don't know whether to think that is totally teh awesome!!1!!1! or downright disturbing. Of course, he does coach the 'Skins. I can't believe I couldn't resist that one.

Labels:

Monday, October 13, 2008

Highs and lows

This weekend was a study in extremes. On Saturday my Georgia Tech Yellow Jackets put up an absolutely piss poor performance against a 2-4 Div II team. It was ugly. It was one of those games where you scratch your head and wonder if the third string quarterback is on scholarship.

It was one of those games where you see that an offensive scheme like the Triple Option Flexbone needs the correct style of athlete to run it. I hope that in the future after Coach Paul Johnson actually starts the recruiting that I won't cringe at the prospect of the third string QB. Especially if he is a 5th year senior who I have never even heard of. His timing errors threw of Dwyer and every pass he threw was at least five yards short.

While a win is always nice I don't enjoy having that much suspense against a Div II team. I don't want to have to see a blocked field goal to seal the win. I want to see a four TD stomping. If the team plays this lackluster against a hungry Clemson team I'm going to be very depressed next Saturday at 4 pm. I'll just have to hope Shaw (concussion) or Nesbitt (sprained hammy) are ready to go at noon Saturday.

--

However, on Sunday the Falcons were dealing with a team many thought were better. The excitement level in the dome was huge. So huge that some dude who must have been off his meds that was sitting next to me was being a huge jackass to the Bears fans in our section. He was loud and actually insane. He thought people were talking back to him when the were just trying their best to ignore him.

Kuro has a theory that I attract crazy people. I'm not sure he is wrong. After halftime crazy dude didn't come back but the lady behind me threatened to "jump through me" during the Falcon's goal line stand because she thought I was a Bears fan because I was wearing a blue hat. That was one of the more intelligible things she said.

Once again that game proved why you shouldn't leave before the last second ticks off the clock. Many Bears fans left when Norwood ran the ball back to the 20 and barring failure the drive would end in a two score difference in the teams. But Elam missed his kick.

Then when the Bears made the last second drive and punched in a touchdown with 11 seconds left. A large contingent of "fans" left their seats and left. The squib kick was returned near midfield the Falcons had 6 seconds to do something. Do something they did when Matt Ryan hit Michael "Stone Hands No Longer" Jenkins on a bench route with one second left. Elam redeemed himself and sealed the win and the whole place erupted.

Random strangers were high fiving each other in the hallways. Everybody was screaming and cheering while exiting the building. It was a rush. It was hitting your one outer on the river. The noise was deafening while going down the ramps.

Then something happened. The event coordinator for the Georgia Dome fucked us. They were supposed to be handing out John Abraham figurines to the first 10,000 fans and everybody who had a voucher was crowding the table to try and redeem the vouchers.

It was a clusterfuck. All the goodwill and excitement drained from the crowd. What could have been handled easily by anyone with common sense or logistics training would have pointed out that putting the table right next to the bottom of two ramps in front of the exits would cause congestion. That only having one person handing out the figurines would slow the pace down to a deadly crawl.

It was a mob scene directly in front of the exit. It was a fire hazard so the police cleared the building. The mob formed multiple orderly lines outside every door at gate C. Then the event coordinator opened one door and the mob reformed around that door. By that time everybody was unruly and pissed that they were missing the later games.

All this for what has to be a repainted Hulk doll. Instead of it commemorating a huge win for a team that nobody respected at the beginning of the year, I will only think of the 45 minutes of my life that they wasted. I'm still surprised I haven't seen any on Ebay yet.

I'm not sure if it was adrenaline crash, a flu bug, or the fact that I ate Taco Mac but it started to go downhill from there. I got home and was struck with lethargy. I needed to help LB with some stuff around her house but planned to hit up the night game out with the boys.

My body had other plans. After helping LB out while feeling ill I spent the second half of the Pats-Bolts game on the couch alternating between chills and sweats. I haven't felt like that since my Thanksgiving food poisoning a few years back.

I guess the lesson here is too much excitement at two football games is bad for my body. Either that or I need to start drinking during Falcons games.

Labels:

Wednesday, October 08, 2008

Pimpin'

If you are a football fan who enjoys the funny there is no reason for you not to be readying Kissing Suzy Kolber every day. So much good shit going on. Today's Ochos and Marvin installment just kept delivering the funny. You think it's going to end but it keeps going. The whole Ocho and Marvin series is the shit.

It's weird how now that I use Google Reader my blog reading has changed. It just started out as only poker blogs. Then I started adding sports blogs. Then it was webcomics. The only time I actually see an actual blog page is when they don't have full feed and it looks interesting to click through.

So now that it is football season I check my sports blogs, then the webcomics and other humor blogs, then the poker and general other blogs/pages with feeds/whathaveyou. Poker, you need to step it up if you want to be read before Sheldon. Consider yourself warned.

Labels: , ,

Tuesday, October 07, 2008

Thanks for the validation

Yes, thank you New York Times for the validation of my sexuality. I sure rest easier now that people don't automatically think I want to scarf cock because I own a cat. Now we just have to convince the bears at Fellini's (I couldn't figure out to link past posts but think July 2007) that this is the case.

I guess Kuro and Gnome can also breathe easier because of this as well. No wonder newspapers are failing.

--

Edit: This is the link. Have fun with that.

Labels:

Monday, October 06, 2008

Sportastic

It was a good sports weekend for those of us in the ANTA. On the baseball front the Cubbies got their comeuppance and the Triples (Devil Rays for you plebians, actually just the Rays now but whatthefuckever) looked good in the games at the Trop.

I have long tried to like the Triples and but could never quite muster up real affection for a team that had never been anywhere but a cellar dweller. Gnome, Kuro and myself even went to a game at the Trop a few years back. Beautiful looking from the outside but and absolute shithole on the interior. Why is baseball ever played inside? I can't even remember who they played but the concessions were nice. We even got to see a player hit a low wall at full speed trying to catch a popup and flip over the wall.

Even seeing a game wasn't enough to make me a fan. Gnome and I debated how to make the team interesting enough to follow. We agreed that a name change would do them good, but the name had to be something new and fresh (aka not the abortion which is the Oklahoma City Thunder). Hence the Triples were born. Named for the fact that Tampa Bay hosts the three cities of Tampa, St. Petersburg and Clearwater and that a triple is ya know, a baseball kinda thingee. So much better than the Twins, which I have on a good authority were named after gay porn.

I just thought the Triples wouldn't make a fan out of me playing in a division with the Yankees and the BoSox, whose combined bankrolls could be used in lieu of taxpayer money in the Bailout plan. But the Yankees didn't make the postseason proving that just throwing money at something isn't some magical panacea for all ills (cough cough Bailout cough cough). The Triples proved that young players and solid management can sometimes win. That the baseball business machine juggernaut isn't the end all, be all of the sport.

If the Triples actually win this thing they will have earned themselves a fan in me. I will overlook the fact that the AL with the DH is an abomination. I'll even buy a hat. Well, if they actually take my name change idea at least. Whatever it takes to keep the Yankees and BoSox out of the World Series (of baseball).

--

Whew! It's October and I actually took that long to talk about baseball when the Braves aren't in it. And there is perfectly good football going on out there. On to it.

Saturday means college football here in the South. Kuro and I hit up the Ga Tech game live and in person. We hit up JR Cricket's for wings and beer before the festivities. I can't recommend that place enough. I didn't even get to sit down before the order was ready.

The game itself was fun and I wondered why I haven't been to a game in two years. Then I remembered the Reggie Ball/Chan Gailey experiment. Paul Johnson and his 1960's flexbone (wow, that just sounds five kinds of dirty) have tried hard this year to make me forget about quixotic nature of the past seven. The equally improbable wins and losses that make one question why they bother with all this fandom mess.

That brings us up to Saturday with my Jackets facing what is supposed to be a new Duke team with Cutcliffe at the helm. Loaded up with lack of sleep, 10 hot wings and two 24oz beers for fuel, and the knowledge that Duke broke their ACC losing streak but was still, well, Duke I was ready for the game.

It was a nice day to be out and some old lesbians kept encroaching on Kuro's personal space so it was destined to be an entertaining experience. The first half was kind of lackluster but I've got a feeling that's how this offense will always work. The second half was much more enjoyable (24 points more!) and the only downsides were getting sunburned and the 'burbian housewives behind us nattering on about preparing their children for high school dances (e.g. "So I got the dress at Target, but when I said I got it at Target they were all like, NO WAY, but I got it at Target for cheap. And my usual hairdresser was booked up...." and on in that vein for 10 minutes without breathing).

We public transitted (woohoo, new word) our way back to the hood and had a few more drinks before retiring to our respective abodes to rest up for the poker game over at Cat Arena. The 28 inch pizza brought by Empire and Da Bruiser (in celebration of Empire's 28th bday, natch) was good, but also a bad beat. Broccoli that is baked has interesting effects on my GI system. It does not so much cause intestinal discomfort in me as it does olfactory discomfort in others.

Oh, and I finished up almost four buy-ins. That was nice for once. Nothing to do with skill. Just pure broccoli fuel. That and the Pabst.

--

Not much happened on Sunday but the Falcons taking down the Packers. I can't muster up as much hate for the Packers since Favre fled to the Jets. I guess I can just hate the Jets for more reasons than the fact that they are "in" New York.

If you made it this far through the post you deserve to see this. A pure testament to what men find funny. 35 minutes long and worth just letting run on the background while working.

Labels: ,