The Uber-Gigante-Mega-May 2009 Trip

Contrary to popular belief, this trip was not -solely- to visit four Spaghetti Factories. Yes, that happened, but it wasn't the -only- reason for going. There's 1,700 miles more on my car, the fudge, taffy, strawberries, lemons, and jerkied beef are long gone, and I've finally managed to post pictures and video. That's why you're here, right? (skip to the end of the drivel for direct links!)

That astounding amount of mileage doesn't even include distances accrued on foot while hiking in Yosemite or running on the beach (trying to get an LED-equipped kite in the air), on boat under the Golden Gate Bridge and around Alcatraz, on buses, in taxis, and $23 worth of BART (including a trek to Concord via the trans-bay tube for one of said OSF dinners).

The two week trip had sleep stops in:

• Keene (outside of Tehachapi, on the way to Bakersfield)
• Reno
• Truckee
• Millbrae (I refuse to pay to park in San Francisco)
  
• Monterey
• Arroyo Grande (outside of Pismo Beach)
  

Turns out that a can of whipped cream goes -real- nice like with a bottle of tequila, a bottle of mix, a half pound of strawberries, and a blender. Just ask Mary Ann about her "ultimate that's-what-she-said". (p.s. was that recently?)

The next day my aunt, in fact, had NOT been drinking. She had not checked her anus either.

We can now locate the North Star, after our eyes adjust. Not every night do two falling stars happen back-to-back, though.

One of Mary Ann's fists is different than the other.

The sickest of sex offenders is a narco-necro.

You can pronounce the word 'measure' like, "Meh... SURE!"

The Park Service re-stripes lines on the road immediately after someone writes on them.

Strobing multi-colored LED keychain lights make for a wonderful party (or 'discoshits' as it may be) in any National Park toilet.

Steep dropoffs on the side of the road are enough to startle Mary Ann. "Is that a l... oh ma le FUCK ME!"

If the Garmin NUVI has to fart, too, she talks fast.

A deer was nice enough to stand on the -other- side of the highway after Yosemite.

A world-record removal of dryer lint occurred in Reno. A stratified cat hair lasagna over an inch thick was pulled out. Perhaps this is the reason it takes your clothes so long to dry?

Contrary to popular believe, there is in fact -nothing- up with the clock in Truckee.

There were exactly two strawberry-glazed donuts at Happy Donut in San Francisco--a sign from heaven?

If the lady in Chinatown would have just looked up, she would have seen her ride drive by (not six times).

My LOP? About an inch and a half. Why? Jeez.

If I'm looking at more than four pieces of a blanket, I'm probably in someone's p-words.

The whole thing about Prop 8 is BULLSHEET. No, I don't know which side he was for. Or against.

Overheard in San Francisco, one man to another, "I swear to God, man, have you ever been to San Quentin?"

Sliding along the side of someone's car when they are proceeding illegally at a red light is not necessarily enough to draw the ire of the San Francisco Police Department.

The Wisconsin Peace Accord helped avert a major crisis between Siberia and the Garden of Eden. All over the sharing of a meatball.

The wax bottles with liquid inside at candy stores are just gay. Because you can't eat the bottles.

Shoulder-level escapades in the ocean are ten times worse than crotch-level water escapades.

If you're standing in the bath washing the sand off your feet, pulling the shower knob will -indeed- redirect the water flow onto your fully clothed person.

It is unknown as to whether or not the large flat-panel HDTV in the hotel room in Monterey Worked. What -is- known is that the iPod-dock alarm clock radio is LOUD. What?

Mary Ann can navigate better than Nuvi in Monterey. She has sacrifice towers for reference.

DO NOT FUCK with the vicious fat squirrels near Big Sur.

There really are rules for Parker Brother's Booby-Trap (circa 1965). Also, much fun was had puttin' our pennies on a Mexican Train. There was some Sequence and Gin played--but Connect Four stayed in the cabinet, at everyone's request (except mine).

The three cute bunnies chasing eachother around in the garden beyond the back patio are not just romping. Unless romping ends in a 'bunnage-a-trois'. This always makes dinner more interesting.

McDonald's $1 sundaes are no longer $1. The extra 8 cents Mary Ann forked over almost started a war.

Grandpa is fine. That much wine will do that to anyone.


Enough drivel.

Keep scrolling.

My Favorite Pics from Mary Ann's Camera	Yosemite, Roadside Waterfalls, and Lake Tenaya	Reno, Truckee, and Crystal Peak	San Francisco and the Exploratorium
Japanese Tea Garden at Golden Gate Park	Monterey and the Aquarium	Big Sur and Big Squirrels	Artsy Prints from Trip Pics

Videos can be seen via my YouTube Channel, or here:

• Waterfalls at Yosemite
• Playing with Bubbles at the Exploratorium
• Seahorses at the Monterey Bay Aquarium
• Jellyfish at the Monterey Bay Aquarium
• Fishies at the Monterey Bay Aquarium
• Denizens of the deep at the Monterey Bay Aquarium
• A screaming otter at the Monterey Bay Aquarium

Tantalizing Candy

You might be thinking to yourself, "Wow, it's the 100th post on this blog, and he's recently back from vacation in Amsterdam (with a diversion to Ireland on his way home). This posting must contain at least a cubic handful of references to 'hookers and blow' and smoking pot in coffeeshops."

Nope.

I didn't really expect you to be thinking any of that anyway.

Amsterdam has let gravity prevail and has begun to spiral even more downhill than before. In a place where the 700 year-old 'old church' (Oude Kerk) has been replaced by the much more modern 600-year old 'new church' (Nieuwe Kerk), one can find all of the glitz and glamor of downtown Henderson. There's trash everywhere, despite numerous daily street cleanings, and much of the downtown scene has fallen on hard economic times--closed shops, exorbitant prices, etc.

Okay, okay, sure--it's a great destination if you want to visit the Rijksmuseum and get your Rembrandt on. There's the Anne Frank house and Van Gogh museum. One can ride around the hundreds of canals throughout the city, and visit the Heineken Experience. Yes, smoking pot won't land you in jail (it's not legal, but tolerated {i.e. non-prosecuted}), and there are hookers in windows right next to churches, and bars with 'banana shows'. But, the place that people from Vegas go when they want to party has turned much more Vegas-y than one might think.

Smoking pot, smoking tobacco, drinking a beer. Pick one. That's what you're limited to in most establishments in Amsterdam now. The ones that you can enjoy more than that--are breaking the law. There are even Vegas-style glass-enclosed rooms for people to smoke pot in--but don't dare take your drink in there. You can smoke pot in a coffeeshop--but no alcohol or tobacco. {sideways-headcock/dog going Hruh?} I don't even smoke pot, so it's not like I care--but in years past when I was with my dad or a friend, things were cool enough that I could enjoy my Heineken wherever. Oh well--no biggy. At 2.5 euros during happy hour to 5 when it's not ($3.30 to $6.60)--a pint is much cheaper at my free places to grab a beer. And closer. And I've never been traveling home from a Village Pub, and landed in Ireland. On our way back from Amsterdam, our flight from Philadelphia made an emergency landing in Dublin--something about being completely out of hydraulic fluid. Who should let a silly little leak in the engine stop them from flying over the iceberg-ridden parts of the Atlantic?

So, five nights in A'dam, and a night in Dublin. We made a trek to the national bank to turn in some old currency I had for new euros (crisp and clean). The bank there is in itself a story, but I'm viciously trying to get to the candy. We had lots of french fries and pizza, and debated about 'most efficient' routes to places through and around the red light district (definitions vary!). I did take quite a few pictures--most notable of the carnival that sat smack in the middle Dam Square in front of the palace (although a great story in itself, it won't be--I'll let the pictures speak for themselves).. Here are those galleries--then on to the candy!

Spring Break in Amsterdam	Amsterdam - Carnival
Amsterdam - Carnival Videos	Dublin

So, anyhoo.

Where was the place we frequented most (apart from the pizza joint that was immediately adjacent to the hotel)? The grocery store. We'd never even been before. We'd been to lots of convenience stores (where a 1.5 liter bottle of water is only 3 euros {$4}), but this time I'd done my research prior to departing--to find a grocery store. That way we could get food and drinks on the cheap. Conveniently, there was an Albert Heijn grocery store just a few minutes away, right behind the palace at Dam Square.

It was a decent sized place--bigger than a Trader Joe's, smaller than an Albertsons. The variety of food and drink one could procure was amazing. Yes, there were huge blocks of cheese, ready-to-engorge herring, and a wide variety of produce. There existed hot dogs in cans. They apparently don't like the plastic-wrapped variety we have that needs refrigeration, and just have row after row of varieties in cans with pop-tops. I can only imagine what liquid exists inside, but I must admit, if you were camping it'd be ideal (if you needed some sort of odd canned meat product). They even had a wider variety of potato chips than I'd dealt with in the past--including barbecue ham flavor. The bakery was top notch--with fresh croissants and breads (including wonderful seed-filled/topped loaves {yumm!})--perfect for cheese or meat to top it. On an almost daily basis I'd be there perusing the aisles, grabbing snacks and beverages (the beer at the grocery store was much cheaper too, and they had up to a 12% alcohol content!). Where did I spend the most time at the store? The candy aisle.

Hruh?

Yeah, the candy aisle.

My dad is a fan of black licorice (apparently not candy prejudiced). Unfortunately they had at least three dozen varieties, and we didn't know what to get. I'll sum up to say--don't try the brown stuff. It's of a salty awful variety that I'm pretty sure is a joke. It probably goes something like this:

Native: You'll love this herring--try it!
Tourist: Thanks! {tries it} Yuck!
Native: You don't like? Then here--try this licorice!
Tourist: Thanks! {tries it} Yuck! That's worse than the herring!

So, if you ever go--just keep that on your list of things to remember--no brown licorice. (Also, don't even try to take pictures of the red light district's denizens behind windows--if they don't break your camera after verbally assaulting you, they'll find someone to do it for them {maybe one of the 'scaries' from the windows by the old church [shudder]}) (I'll stop with the nested parentheses.)

What should you try? Well, if you like black licorice--then that. It's tasty, and comes in a wide variety of shapes, sizes, textures, softness, and strengths. But I recommend getting brave. That means trying things you've never even imagined. Like banana/licorice gummy apes. Among my favorite was a banana candy. Imagine circus peanuts (the candy), but banana-shaped and -flavored.

Check out the pictures (click to open the gallery):

So, you may be concluding (or not--I realize this by now) that I'm far more interested in the candy there now than the other stuff (debauchery, eye candy, etc.). You'd be right. I'll stick to my churros and beers and unknown meat tacos south of the border--beheadings and kidnappings and all.

Happy Pi Day

I'm almost ashamed to celebrate. Almost. But, good fortune came my way for Pi day. Jeff, Joseife, and the baby are asleep in the guest bedroom, Sedona's asleep on the couch, and tomorrow... Well, tomorrow, there's going to be another burrito. I think that there couldn't be a more appropriate day for someone to attempt this feat. Well, there probably couldn't be a less appropriate day either. Jeff could best the burrito. But enough about burritos.

Thinkgeek karma has come full circle. Or, at least it has completed both ends of a line segment. For Christmas, I got PJ (who happens to be the drummer for As Yet Unbroken) a shirt that has a drum set on it. No, that's not the cool part--the cool part is that when you touch the respective drum kit parts, it plays the appropriate sound through a speaker. I figured it was a pretty cool present for him, not even worrying about what percentage of the Jew inside of him wouldn't welcome an Xmas present. Check it out:

Anyhoo.

On Thursday, Mary Ann handed me a plastic-wrapped blue silicone item, and a Thinkgeek catalog. Turns out, the silicone item was an ice cube tray. Not just any ice cube tray, but an ice cube tray that makes... Pi symbol-shaped ice (not cubes). {{heart-flutter}}

Here's the image from their site:

Turns out that it's pretty damned simple to make pice cubes. Yeah, I know.

Here are pictures I took:

And, pardon my 80s... But there's an extrasuperbitchin' recipe for a pitini:

And here's another wonderful example of why I really love to teach: I got an e-card from a student in my class:

Blog post #100 could prove to be monumental. Stay tuned!

It's obvious you have too much time on your hands.

Whether the title of this blog pertains to me or you remains to be seen. Yeah, I kinda think it's both of us if you're here.

How would you feel about something else occupying your time? I know you've got nothing better to do at work.

Let me please introduce a semi-outstanding interweb game called Puzzle Pirates.

I've been playing for about 5 years now--I used to play constantly when I was at work doing college prep and tutoring (the children were bound for UNLV, what can I say?). Recently I wanted to get someone else addicted--it's my way of easing the burden on my brain, like a bad joke.

For instance: A polar bear walks into a bar. He goes up to the bartender and says, "I'll have a gin...............and tonic." The bartender takes a look at the polar bear and says, "What was that?" The polar bear replies, "I'll have a gin...............and tonic." The bartender then asks the polar bear, "So, why the big paws?" {look, if you don't get that joke, just substitute the word pause in for paws}

The only remedy for the awfulness that lies in your head now, after hearing such an awful piece, is to tell the joke to as many people as you know. It's like aspirin.

So, back to the getting someone addicted business. Sedona seemed to always be busy at her computer, but I could just tell that she wasn't bursting at the seams with stuff to do, so I mentioned Puzzle Pirates.

I'm not going to use any acronyms or fancy computer jargon--I'll just tell you that it's fun. If you enjoyed games like Tetris, Columns, Dr. Mario, Bejeweled, etc., and card games like Hearts, Spades, and Texas Hold 'em--chances are pretty good you'll like this game. It's got all of that built in--where puzzles effect your piratey business like sailing and swordfighting. The makers of the game have strict limitations on things like 'numbers' in the game--no experience points, hit points, or levels in the numerical sense--they've been replaced with piratey-speak.

So, I can now for sure say that if you've read this far, you've got too much time on your hands--visit the links below and create a pirate. If you do, you'll be given extra pieces of eight for signing up under me, and automatically added to my crew--named New Addictions. Ha!

{{queue Enya music--yeah, you know what song's chorus I'm talking about}}





View Scott's Pirate Page

Mary Ann vs. The Burrito

Mary Ann has all kinds of reasons to loathe me--most recently, a cataclysmic gastrointestinal event. Now, I'm not in any way implicating myself, but I'd have to agree that I had at least a little part in it.

{{rewind tape}}

I'd gotten Mary Ann addicted to RSS feeds at the start of the semester. And by feeds I mean a couple.

{{fast forward}}

I'm pretty sure Mary Ann has a dozen or so RSS feeds now in her Google Reader, enough to eliminate most of her free time. She's worse off than I am in this department: sometimes I say F it all and press the -Mark As Read- button, but she doesn't. This poses a personal challenge to her on feeds like Fark.com.

{{fast forward}}

This item showed up in my reader: Vegas casino rewarding customers who can eat a 2-foot, 6 pound burrito with unlimited rollercoaster rides, effectively getting their burrito back to make the next one

Now, anyone that's ever had a meal with Mary Ann knows that the thing Mary Ann likes most about a meal is seeing the plate. Clean. No food left. Naturally, the idea of a 2-foot, 6 pound burrito intrigued me--but I knew someone it would intrigue more...

At this point in time, it almost seemed to be a creative work of fiction. The article didn't even have a picture (yet, no "this thread is worthless without pictures"? {probably because it didn't pertain to females}) After seeing a few more blurbs, and doing a few Google searches, it seemed that it may have been a possibility. All sources indicated that the beast lurked at the NASCAR cafe at the Sahara. For free* (caveat), one could engorge him or herself on said burrito. Were it to be completely consumed, two unlimited roller-coaster passes (yeah, I see the irony in this as well, and it kind of makes me a bit queasy. The 'ride' lasts 46 seconds in what I deem is an almost constantly accelerating vomit inducer) and a t-shirt proclaiming your conquering of the burrito are provided. Heart resuscitation, sadly, is not gratis.

If it wasn't finished, it would cost only $19.95--a mere pittance in the burrito weight per unit dollar value scale. Also included was a pink shirt in which a picture was taken, indicating that the patron was, in fact, a weenie.

Earlier I indicated that I knew someone who would be intrigued. Perhaps I was wrong--maybe infatuated? I let her know, probably via clicking 'email' in Google Reader. History was well in the making.

The initial post was February 27th. Mary Ann was hungry then, as per usual, but her thirst for burrito blood grew increasingly day by day. I hadn't found solid evidence of the existence of the burrito yet, but plans were in the making.

{{fast forward}}

Thursday, March 5th - Mary Ann answers a question in Baragar's geometry class correctly (perhaps one of the few times she's ever even chimed in, amongst all the geeks, nerds, and dweebs that hoard chair real estate). I receive a text message, "I was so excited! I almost blurted out 'burrito!'" If we didn't find out about this culinary debacle soon, we would be forced to create it ourselves. At about 2:30am late that night, I got a cryptic email message starting mid-thought with ellipses:

"... so we cut up the thing into quarters, it would be like I was eating four 6-inch burritos, each weighing it at a pound and a half. I think putting away the first and second will be easy. The 3rd, I think, might give me some troubles, but if I can get past that, I'll be home free chomping down the final fourth. I'm kind of hungry now so maybe if I don't eat until like Saturday..."

Now nobody wonders why we love Mary Ann...


Friday, March 6th - The following text messages were exchanged:

• Scott: Tomorrow I'm calling to verify existence of the burrito. Hope you're hungry!


• Mary Ann: I will be ready to take on the burrito if it exists.


• Scott: Sedona and I agreed that if the burrito does not exist, it WILL. We will make it.


• Mary Ann: I appreciate all your effort to make sure this feat is made possible, but if it doesn't exist, it probably wasn't meant to be.

Saturday, March 7th, 'A day which shall live in infamy' - Sedona and I had, as usual, stayed up far too late Friday night. I'm pretty sure there were some tiki-style drinks at Cooter's involved. Amanda pages me early in the morning, letting me know she's taking a test, and wanting to know if this 'thing' is going to go down (yes, I realize that can be taken in more than one way, and no, I'm not at liberty to use the <- Backspace key). It was a mad scramble to see if all parties were go. I quickly texted Mary Ann to ask when we should do this (it was her tummy after all, not ours). Another heartwarming response, "How about a late lunch? So there's lots of time for roller coaster rides IF it exists and IF I finish it." I asked if noonish was okay, and paged Amanda back (in the hopes that her exam would be done in time to join us), and I trodded down to Sedona's room to tell her the plans (she responded 'yes', but I'm pretty sure she and I were of the same sleepy-unconsciousness). It was on.

Amanda happened to finish her exam early, so I informed all parties to rendezvous at the pagoda (look, if you don't know what the pagoda is by now, you haven't been keeping up with my blog). The existence of the burrito was still in question, and I began to panic--what if (for Fs sake) there was no burrito?

I made a mad scramble at the pagoda's desktop computer terminal, and was instantly satisfied. A Google search for the NASCAR cafe brought me to their site. The phone number provided was not working, and was the same that Google had provided me with. I didn't realize it at the time, but it wasn't open yet. A quick lateral and I was at the Sahara's site. I didn't get a different phone number, but I was given a menu, at the top of which was:

The Bomb Burrito FREE*
A 6 LB, 24 inch Monster Burrito! (regular price $19.95)
*Ask server for details

Details indeed!

There was no stopping us. Amanda arrived and I hopped in the shower. Sedona rousted herself. Mary Ann arrived while I was putting on my finishing touches (hairspray, makeup, whatnot). Sedona and Amanda were hell-bent on taking Mary Ann's measurements, but were bested by lack of tape measure (no, I don't have a tape measure, why would I?). She was a good enough sport to hop on the scale--she texted her 'starting weight' to herself. Shortly thereafter we piled into sparkry-brue, and were off into history.

We arrived at the Sahara at about 1:15pm. We stopped to look out the parking structure, to see the roller coaster we'd been chatting about so much. 23 seconds to the top, 23 seconds back (both cocaine and hookers, we noted, were cheaper than the $10 entrance fee for 46 seconds of fun {again, value per dollar}). We made our way into the bowels (joke?) of the casino to where the Nasty-Car stuff was. Sure as shit (joke?) signs pointed to where contestants would sit to eat "The Bomb". (joke?)

We were seated at a table towards the back (we looked like trouble). The menu was filled with much heart-stopping plaque-filled food, and gallon-and-a-half size beer tubes extending toward the sky. Sedona and Amanda were going to try the gargantua-nachos (not its exact name, but, it's what they got). I decided that a 'lighter fare' option would be good, and got the Monster BLT (complete with a full pound {pre cooked weight} of Applewood smoked bacon and bacon-infused mayonnaise {jesus, I think my heart just cried a little, merely reading that}).

A sample of the menu (sans mega-beers) is available here.

Mary Ann? Yeah, you know what she ordered. The waitress got big-eyed and indicated that this was not a regular-portion burrito. We all raised eyebrows and started nodding that we knew, and that Mary Ann was capable.

We had chosen poorly. Not the food (okay, maybe that too), but location. We were told that the contestant had to sit up front, in the clearly designated spot. We were not allowed near. We were reseated (at our request) to a table nearer the spectacle. Mary Ann was led to her barstool, and waited. She was also told that she had 90 minutes for the feat. She was surprised and slightly agawked, but didn't put up a fight.

Our food got there in minutes. Not fully cooking the bacon is one sure-fire way to make the food come quicker. Not using real cheese on the nachos is also speedy. Mary Ann's took forever. Seems it takes a good while to prepare (what with building permits and finding a thermometer long enough to probe a 2-foot burrito).

A text message went across the ether (again, bouncing from here to Missouri and back, to make it 20 feet away to my phone from Mary Ann's). "22.5 minutes for each quarter..." My heart fluttered a little (in a good way, not in a "jesusfuck, the fat man's about to consume a pound of bacon" kind of way).

Those sitting at the table were almost done with their food. It wasn't fair. We were almost done, and she hadn't even started yet. I couldn't/wouldn't eat all the bacon. There were two kinds of lettuce (?) sprawled everywhere from lack of structural integrity, and only a small testing of mayo was used. Fries disappeared casually towards Amanda, and only one chip was necessary for me to deem the nachos unfit (I think Sedona was right in conjecturing that the cheese was lactose-free 'pasteurized processed cheese goop'). Sedona and Amanda were troopers, leaving only about a half-pound of what must have been several pounds of layered travesty.

A precession appeared from the kitchen while the manager announced over the intercom what was about to happen. The chef brought out a pallet with a burrito on it (look--words just don't do it justice, that's why I'm only saying 'burrito'. What, didn't 'pallet' bring anything to mind?).
The manager counted down from 5, and it began. What had been a quiet event suddenly turned into dozens of people surrounding Mary Ann to get a glimpse of the burrito and take pictures. You'd be amazed at how many NASCAR fans suddenly became fans of Mary Ann's undertaking.

Our food had been cleared away in the first 10 minutes. I took pictures at every 10-minute mark so that people could see progress in the pictures. She was a trooper! The secret of the burrito came out, quite literally: jalapenos. Mary Ann wouldn't stand for them. She had a few (they were pickled, and slightly hot, but not of taste fitness for her), but she started to make a pile/mound of them. She inquired as to whether or not she had to eat them, and was told that she didn't. I'm pretty sure that they wanted her to finish it--so that the first person to finish The Bomb was an adorable young female, not a slothenly wheezing obese greasy person from {insert state here}.

The first? you ask? Yes. It seems that in the brief history (the cafe had recently reopened) of the contest, nobody had finished. The executive chef (Tim Evert) visited our table to converse with us. Mary Ann was eating his 36th burrito. He indicated that most only got a quarter of the way through, and that the top two finishers ended up with about a quarter of it left.

Many strange people visited her. At one point I approached someone who was engaging her in conversation. I explained, "Sir, you are only allowed to ask rhetorical questions. She's busy eating. If she's talking, she's not eating." The manager had to do this on more than one occasion as well. Most were well-wishers with comments ranging from, "Are YOU going to eat that?" to "What is THAT?" and even "Are you gonna need a bucket?". The waitresses and hostess all told us that they were rooting, and even betting, on Mary Ann. They, too, wanted her to finish. We could only imagine the pictures and press coverage she'd get.

About 45 minutes into it, a text message bounced again to me, "It's starting to get cold... Bleh!" A bad omen from the front lines.

A gradual slow-down was occurring. Between the copious amounts of red enchilada sauce, the rice, the jalapenos, and the chilled meat--doom set in. But she was a trooper, and kept on keepin' on.

We ordered dessert. Well. You tell me--curly fries with pineapple and a drizzle of chocolate sauce. Is that dessert? It was on the dessert section of the menu. We ordered the half-pound variety, opting out of the full-pounder. What was odd was the temperature of the sauce. Not the heat, per se, but the spice. We think there had to have been chili peppers in it, a la Chocolat. Amanda noted, "These are retardedly spicy!" Again, we were ashamed to have not eaten all of them. We quietly covered up the unfinished bit, and hoped Mary Ann wouldn't notice from afar. She was too busy anyhow.

Towards the end, Amanda noted, "That's the saddest face ever." I couldn't tell from 20 feet away whether it was because she wasn't going to win, or because she was upset that it wasn't a quality enough/warm enough burrito for her to consume.

In the end... the burrito bested her...

Mary Ann ended up in third place of all contestants to date.

She donned her pink 'weenie' shirt and got a picture taken. When asked, she politely turned down the offer to take home the leftovers. She was in pain. She was probably one cat-vomit joke or hairball impression (you have both Sherman and I to thank for that!) away from spewing. Fortunately, there was a garbage bin nearby, but it went unused (also fortunately unused was the carpet, our shoes, concrete, etc.) At some points on the way out, Mary Ann was visibly shaking. She was upset and in pain.

As we all proceeded to leave I told everyone, "We didn't pay... So run..." It wasn't true, and none of us were in shape for running (joke? Yeah--probably that Mary Ann, even about to explode, was probably in more shape to run than the company she was with).

On the way to the garage, she noted, "I'm so dirty... I have enchilada sauce everywhere."

When we got to the car, I checked the trunk for anything that might be able to contain approximately a gallon of chunky fluids. I had a small trash can, but I didn't want its disgusting insides to inspire her. I found a small black cooler bag (meant for a six-pack) and handed it to her, to which Amanda noted, "That's not big enough," to which I snapped, "Shut the f... Oh..." when I realized she wasn't talking about my tackle. Sedona and Amanda offered her the front seat. Wise choice for them (to avoid splatter), and a decent choice overall--as the back windows don't roll all the way down!

We took surface streets home. Slowly.

We made it home without even a dangerous burp. There was a lot of whimpering. Whimpering, then silence as we tried to not make jokes--for fear she might pop. The topic of food was mistakenly broached more than once--and was met with more whimpering.

When we got home, another trip to the scale provided an end weight. Let me get math-y here for a second:

End Weight - Beginning Weight = Total Pounds Gained

157.8 lb - 153.4 lb = 4.4 lb

She had a net weight gain of 4.4 pounds. This is not taking into account the water she drank (3 small glasses {why was the only thing small at the cafe the cups?}) and the amount she sweat out (which had to be considerable!). So, all things considered, let's just agree that she ate 4 pounds of burrito.

I queried her (when I thought she may not upchuck and ruin/flood my papasan chair) about the contents of The Bomb. Apparently the meat was a shredded beef substance. What we didn't know until this point is that there were peas in it. Yeah, we were incredulous as well.


To round out this epic, I'll include some final quotes:

• Amanda: Hope I see you later!

• Mary Ann: Tomorrow will be different... I'll be giving birth to something.

• Scott: Let me know if you need anything... Even a bucket...
• Mary Ann: That stage has passed.
• Scott: Okay, if you need anything, including a wider-rimmed bucket...

• Scott: You want directions to the nearest Taco Bell?
• Mary Ann: NO! I'm done with Mexican food for a while.

And now, for what you've all been waiting for... the pictures. (and a video)

Click Here for the picture gallery

Erika's 21st Birthday

Midge turned 21 on the 23rd, and decided to do a bit of celebrating (perhaps more than she bargained for?). Our first stop was at PF Chang's so she could get her vegetarian lettuce wraps on. The good news is that they also brought some tasty morsels from Retro Bakery--a small cake (which was almost adequate for the whole party!) and a 4-pack o' cupcakes. I'm pretty sure the prices are akin to the Cupcakery, so probably $40 bucks worth of sugar, fat, and flower--yum!

My present to her (-cough-cheapskate-cough-) was a suite at the Rio for her and Sean for the evening. It wasn't nearly as big as the 1800 square foot semicircular Masquerade Suite that they'd been to on several Gordo Blanco involved events--but it was nice for the two of them.

For so many guests, and such a small TV, I knew that the room would be inadequate, so I offered up my place for the evening--I already had copious amounts of alcohol, Rock Band 2, and a volume control that goes way up there. My house is only little ways up the road from PF Chang's, so it worked out nicely.

We had a blast. Midge and I met in the kitchen once, and we both noted that the other was drinking--how weird! She had quite a bit more than me--which probably accounts for all the dancing and marathon sessions of playing bass. She refuses to let me post videos of her playing--a half playing/half dancing affair for each song, which is quite different than her typical statuesque pose (probably concentrating on the notes too hard!)

I met a lot of new people, and I have to say, they're all f'ing wonderful. When you check out the pictures, you'll see. What's not in the pictures are the stories--like a guitar almost breaking Sean's tooth, Erika getting boob-fondled, and just why in the hell everyone's tongues are blue.

My favorite quotes, by far, came from Alan:

• "Dude... He has some badass clocks, bro..." (on the phone to one of his 'bros')
  
• "You should get points for jumping around!" (during "White Wedding")

Anyhow... Here's a link to the pictures...

(shh: you'll have to email me for a link to the videos!)

Erika's 21st Birthday Party

Strawberries and...

When Midge (Erika) and I went to the Farmer's Market in San Luis Obispo, we bought two entire flats of fresh strawberries (and some cherries and snap peas). It seemed like a large amount at the time, but within a few days of returning back to the boiling heat of Vegas, the strawberries were gone. Only a few weeks at most goes by these days without us mentioning something about going back.

(fast forward)

Envision in your head what wonderful culinary items could be created with strawberries. Now throw that all away. I'm about to blow your mind.

Let's see... Tasty strawberry dishes...

• Strawberries and cream (whipped, or fresh, or fugitalltogether and use sugar)
  
• Strawberry shortcake (including Longhorn's mile-high strawberry shortcake--which, albeit tasty, falls well short of a mile)
• Chocolate-covered strawberries
• Strawberry pie
• Strawberry daiquiris
  
• Strawberry margaritas
• Strawberry chicken

Wait... Did the fat guy just say strawberry... chicken??

Yes. The Google points to over 9,000 pages for it. Had I ever heard of it prior to last week? No.

(rewind button)

It was probably at least a little bit my fault for getting Mary Ann addicted to Golden Flower Chinese food. My family has been frequenting the stripmall location for well over a decade, and I had a been coming back for several months now after a hiatus of unknown reasons. Their 'Best of' ratings for several years in the 2000s says nothing about the horrendous tastiness one encounters for their cheap (<$7 for lunch) eats. Everyone that goes becomes an instant fan, and seeks it out whenever possible. Again, I'm only going to apologize a little for having taken Mary Ann.

What followed that brief lunch encounter is tastebud history. It seems she had taken her roommate on a subsequent weekend, in which their dinner was both lemon chicken, and a dish I'd never heard of--strawberry chicken. Yes, I had the same reaction to that last bit. When asked just what it tasted like, I didn't get a proper response. All I knew is that from the look on her face, it had to have been wonderful. In fact, she said something almost apocraphyl and blasphemous... that it tasted... like a smoothie.

I'll be damned if she wasn't right.

(fast forward)

CIS 728 was wonderful as usual. I wasn't dead at all. I didn't have a headache. I was certainly not hungry. One student in particular was quiet and certainly not annoying

After exchanging text messages about a former instructor (who, incidentally, sounds and even looks a little bit like Will Ferrell) and his awful jokes {dare I mention?}, a solitary innocent message from me wafted its way through the ether. In reality, the message need have only traveled about 20 feet, but it probably bounced its way through some cell towers here and there, and possibly even through the state of Missouri... "I am thinking Golden Flower... Mmmm..."

I'm pretty sure the first thought through her mind was, "Ohh, that bastard...", but the actual message back said, "I just lost all my focus... Now I'm thinking of fruit flavored chicken!"

(more fast forwarding)

We decided on dinner option A, but with strawberry chicken added. I'd pay to hear what the waitress thinks when I come in--especially when I do something like order an entire dinner option (sweet and sour pork, chow mein, fried rice, appetizers), and then tack on another entree. Probably rhymes with 'fat duck'. Thank you. Thank you. (That's a Golden Flower joke).

After the appetizers, dinner option A's entrees arrived. The strawberry chicken was to come later--I think they were building up the anticipation on purpose. When it finally arrived, I noted how I hadn't seen such a dark red sauce outside of the realm of desserts. Picture sweet and sour chicken, but with slices of strawberry in a dark red compote.

The smell? Strawberry shortcake.

The taste? Strawberry smoothie. With chicken.

As if I weren't addicted already.

The good news is that the leftovers filled two entire large styrofoam takeout boxes. It was at least two hours before my leftover strawberry chicken was consumed in a fit of deliciousness.

Bye, Princess!

I went to lunch with a friend and her 4-year-old today. We went to Olive Garden, as per usual (I don't think I've dined anywhere else with the little girl!).

On the way out, the manager opened the door for my friend, and she proceeded out. I was a few seconds behind, holding the little one's hand, and the door was still open for us.

The manager said, "Bye, princess!"

I stopped, looked up at the manager (through a little bit of furrowed brow), paused for a few seconds and then replied, "OH--the BABY..." and then continued on my way.

I never stick around to see the reactions. Her mom didn't stop laughing until we reached her car.

HA!

That's all I could think when the proverbial 'her' from earlier blogposts appeared again.

It was the first day back to school, and I was waiting outside of my class in the WRI hallways. There I was, nominally happy and looking forward to new stuff--when she opens the glass door at the end of the hall and makes her way towards me.

A lot of thoughts ran through my feeble mind--but mostly "HA!", yelling at myself for some reason. I quickly surmised that there's no way she could be in the Ph.D program yet, and couldn't possibly be in my class. Thank fark I was right.

We exchanged pleasantries, and she made her way past me to her classroom.

I got a bit of a jab in when she wandered around for several minutes before I stopped her asking, "What on EARTH could you be looking for?" I knew she was looking for the bathroom (maybe she had that air of concern and pressure?). I pointed her towards the initial glass door she waltzed through. She made a final pass by me (I didn't ask if she'd washed her hands) before class started.

I believe I said more than a year ago about these fun encounters, "Shoot me." It's funny, I could really care less now, but it was certainly a "HA!" type of event.