Showing 1 - 10 of 67 posts found matching keyword: food
I think my mother might be trying to gaslight me.
She tells me that I eat too much white bread. Every day when I wake up and go to the refrigerator for milk, she warns me "you're almost out of bread." When I look, she's right. There are only a few pieces left.
How can that be? When last I went shopping, I bought a loaf of Sunbeam Giant, enough bread to choke a horse. I've had the occasional peanut butter and honey sandwich for dinner — most of you would call it a "midnight snack" — but that's only a couple of slices in the past week.
Where's my bread going? Am I sleep eating? Does bread evaporate overnight? Or, as I suspect, is my mother throwing the slices away one at a time in a devious plan to get me to eat multigrain?
I'm on to you, Mom. You'll not trick me. White bread for life!
It's a lollipop. You put it in your mouth. Eat shit, America!
Footnote: while investigating this "candy," I discovered that its manufacturer, Flix Candy, also makes a wind-up pile of shit. "Wind him up and watch him walk and poop candy!" they say. I think I'll pass.
Happy Birthday, 'Murica.
Cinnamon Frosted Flakes are a real thing now. I haven't had them yet, and after watching this commercial, I can tell you I never will. We'll be right back after this message.
Did you hear that guy at the end of the commercial say that Cinnamon Frosted Flakes "tastes like victory"? Does Kellogg's know where that line comes from? Have they never seen Robert Duvall as the satiric Lt. Col. Kilgore in Apocalypse Now?
Once upon a time, art and literature employed allusions to previous works audiences would be familiar with in order to reinforce concepts. In modern America, corporations still use allusions, but they no longer expect the audience to understand them rationally. They only want to trigger an emotional connection. "Oh, yeah. I remember Apocalypse Now. I liked it. I bet I'd like Cinnamon Frosted Flakes."
Kellogg's doesn't care if the actual reference is to napalm, a weapon used to burn people to death. Nor does Dodge care if their products are pitched by Star Wars' oppressive evil Empire. Six Flags gladly names roller coasters after DC Comics serial killers.
So good luck with your new product, Kellogg's, but I still pay attention to who is trying to sell me something. Kilgore can keep his cinnamon. I'll stick with my Sugar Frosted Flakes, the cereal that Superman says is the best.
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My doctor says my cholesterol is too high. He wants me to exercise for more than an hour a day and consider a Mediterranean Diet, with high concentrations of fruits. He also wants me to avoid processed food entirely, especially things like french fries.
I'm not sure I can do that.
Exercise is the least of the problem. I'm already walking July for 30 minutes and then spending another 30 on the elliptical. In addition, I'd been contemplating how I can add some strength training to that regimen. I'm actually starting to like exercising.
On the other hand, I do eat too much processed snack food. I admit it. It's a bad habit that I'm always aware of, even when I'm eating it. I can make a sincere effort to cut back (he says as he stuffs another handful of potato chips in his face).
What I cannot do is eat more fruits. I hate fruit. I hate its texture and flavor. Berries are gross. Bananas trigger my gag reflex. I saw what apples did to Snow White. And don't even get me started on oranges. If I thought global warming would wipe all fruit off the face of the planet, I'd leave my car running 24 hours a day.
I understand that a Mediterranean Diet might prolong my life, but quality of life has to count for something, too. How am I supposed to enjoy a life of only eating foods I hate? Frankly, I'd rather have a heart attack.
So somehow this is a thing now:
I'm not saying it's a bad thing. I mean, I like M&M's (even with their unconventional use of the apostrophe). I have a bag near me now.
However, who wants a candy that tastes like the Miami Dolphins? They're not a particularly good football team. What would you expect a Dolphins-branded candy to taste like? Failure? Disappointment? Actual dolphins?
At least they don't taste like the Cleveland Browns.
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I often complain that the local newspaper has too little content to justify its 5-day publishing schedule. This fact was evidenced on Thursday when they ran the same Associated Press article on pages 7A and 9A.
But it was the paper's back page (10A) where things are really noteworthy. The page was headlined by an article about how many awards the Times-Herald has won for advertising in the annual Georgia Press Association's advertising content. (They won 12 first or second place awards from among 19 categories.) The Georgia Press Association is the trade association for Georgia newspapers. Their job is to promote newspapers. This article isn't news; it's salesmanship.
However, even the appearance of advertisements disguised as articles in the newspaper isn't what brings me to the keyboard today. No, that would be this passage in the restaurant inspections further down the same page:
Olive Garden #1658 — was inspected on May 24 and received a score of 99-A. The deduction came from the ladies being stored too closely to the hand wash sink to prevent contamination.
Contamination is bad. That's why I prefer to store my ladies in the freezer.
Keep up the good work, Times-Herald!
[2016-04-22 1:01PM] Ken: Hey Walter. Did I wake you up? Where's that place near Keith you said had such great hamburgers?
[2016-04-22 1:07PM] Walter: No. I've been awake for at least 30 seconds now. Food is Culver's.
[2016-04-22 1:09PM] Walter: 252 S 400 Center Lane Dawsonville
[2016-04-22 2:11PM] Ken: The burgers better be good! I never expected someplace you liked so much to be a Pepsi thrall.
[2016-04-22 2:11PM] Walter: Heh. I drink the lemonade
[2016-04-22 2:14PM] Ken: Okay damn. This food is really good dude
[2016-04-22 2:14PM] Walter: Ha! A Culver's Convert! Yes!
[2016-04-22 2:15PM] Walter: I'm so green with envy right now
[2016-04-22 2:16PM 2016-04-22] Ken: That wasn't my intent but I can understand why. At least they at building one near you now
[2016-04-22 2:16PM] Walter: Go ahead and gloat, north-sider
[2016-04-22 2:17PM] Ken: Lol
[2016-04-22 2:18PM] Ken: I got a double and now I'm going back for a single
[2016-04-22 2:19PM] Walter: Just keep rubbing it in...
[2016-04-24 12:18PM] Ken:
[2016-04-24 12:18PM] Ken: You have turned Robin and I on to Culvers in a big way. On our way back home and couldn't help ourselves. This...is not to taunt you by the way.
[2016-04-24 2:43PM] Walter: You're dead to me.
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Once every 15 years, I pay a visit to Augusta National Golf Club for the Masters. I first went to a practice round in the mid-80s and returned for Tiger Woods' "Tiger Slam" win on Sunday in 2001. And I went back again yesterday.
Mom got the tickets from her boyfriend (thanks, Bill!), woke me up at the crack of dawn, and read the newspaper as I drover her to Augusta. She was eager to see the likes of Adam Scott, Rory McIlroy, Ricky Fowler, Matt Kucher, and Jordan Spieth. She also got in a peek at former Masters winners Tom Watson, Mike Weir, Bernhard Langer, Mark O'Meara, and Vijay Singh. I swear, every hole we passed, there was Vijay Singh. Too bad Mom is no fan of Vijay Singh.
Personally, I was more excited about the food. I mean, it's a beautiful course and all, but an egg salad sandwich, a pimento cheese sandwich, a sweet tea, and a cola for only $7? Seconds, please!
Despite being seriously sleep deprived, I had a great time watching a bunch of professionals practice their jobs. (Troy Merrit seemed to be having a particularly good time.) I look forward to returning in the 2030s.