Scratchy Glitter

Observations for the easily irritated.

Tag: fast food

Ads & Products & Stuff, Oh My

ADVERTISING HALL OF SHAME

…award this week goes to some product (I don’t even remember it, so there!) that starts its commercial with “Are you bothered by chronic constipation?” with SHOTS OF PEOPLE SITTING ON THE TOILET.

Rom is urging me to tell on Head & Shoulders shampoo, not least because we’ve argued twice about it. The newest bottles have “#1 DERM RECO” emblazoned on them. Our disagreement was not because that’s not a stupid way of putting it–we are agreed on that score–but because he believes most people wouldn’t understand what they meant by it, and I disagree. Of course, I read women’s magazines, which routinely use “derm” for dermatologist, just like they use “gyno” for gynecologist. (And if you read these magazines, you get the idea these are the only two doctors their readers have.) Now that I think of it, I don’t think I’ve ever heard people actually using these terms in conversation.

Let’s just go ahead and ban this sort of thing, shall we? I haven’t issued a World Leader Edict in awhile.

BY THE POWER INVESTED IN ME, WHICH I HAD BEFORE STEPHEN COLBERT STARTED HIS FURRY-HAT ROUTINE, JUST CHECK MY ARCHIVES UNDER “WORLD LEADER PRETEND”…

Be they banned henceforth and forevermore:

–“mani,” “pedi,” and “mani/pedi”

–“vacay”

–“cardi” for cardigan

–“cami” for camisole

–“convo” for conversation

–not only “reco” for recommendation, but “recs” as well

–“deo” for deodorant

I’ll probably think of more as I go along.

–Sign on door of CVS–“Automatic Entrance. Doors Can Close Unexpectedly.” Is “Enter at your own risk” really good business practice?

–IHOP is deciding to focus on burgers? Why?

–Also, Dunkin’ Donuts deciding its name is now just “Dunkin'” is stupid.

I SUPPOSE YOU’RE WAITING FOR ME TO REVIEW THE NEW QUARTER POUNDERS

McDonald’s claims these are better than they previously were, and I agree. Keep in mind that I’ve never been a big Quarter Pounder fan, preferring the double cheeseburger or McDouble (which are not, by the way, the same thing, although the difference is just an additional slice of cheese on the double cheeseburger) (maybe you already knew that, but I had to have it explained to me). My main problem with Quarter Pounders now is that they have a more “charcoal” flavor. I never care for that–it tastes just plain burnt to me–but I know a lot of people like it.

I SOLVE A MYSTERY

For a long time, I’ve wondered how McDonald’s determines receipt numbers. Some people get, say, 398, while someone else there at the same time might get 277. But they always start with 2 or 3. I finally realized that it has to do with which register it was rung up on. #1 is never used for some reason, 2 and 3 are at the counter, so the people ordering inside always get those, and 4 is for the drive-through. I’m glad I figured that out. Wait a minute–maybe 1 is for the drive-through, and 4 is the one that’s never used. Oh well, I never have to deal with those, so they don’t affect me.

Did you know that Nick once said the military would be good for me? Of course, he said the same thing about prison.

 

I’m Gonna Complain

…inspired by a woman on the bus, who used “Well, I’m not gonna complain” to wrap up a lengthy complaint.

WAR ON WORDS UPDATE

Yes, it’s not just a war on parts of speech. I saw an ad for cottage cheese that said, “A Whole New Way To Cottage.” By which they meant, “to eat cottage cheese.” Because who has time to say two more words? We’re approaching point-and-grunt territory. Speaking of which, I saw a game on Facebook–“Write the name of a band using only emojis and let us guess who they are!” See, a means of communication shouldn’t make me have to guess what you mean. I don’t think the Sour Neon Crawlers could be represented solely by emojis.

Courtesy of Rom: “The erupting volcano in Guatemala is called Volcano del Fuego. As opposed to…?”

Also courtesy of Rom, things that have been forever ruined for me…

“Old Rugged Cross”= “On a hill far away stands an old Chevrolet”

“Ring of Fire” = “I keep a close watch on this heart of mine. I hold my pants up with a piece of twine.”

And the auto-parts place–“When the name is Napa, the quality’s crappa.”

LETTING US LOOSE IN SOCIETY

There is an autistic guy working at McDonald’s (I know this because he says so), who reminds me of myself at his age. He was telling a work buddy, “Yeah, I’ve tried applying for other jobs, but at the end of the interview I tell them, ‘I’m autistic, just so’s you know,’ and I never get a callback.” Oh, dear, as Nick would say. (This phrase inserted for the sake of Nick, whose eyes well with tears whenever a post of mine doesn’t mention him.) Now, I never applied for jobs at fast food places when I was his age and looking. They all knew me as that weird customer. Black biker t-shirts! Big rings! And other stuff that doesn’t go with glasses!

 

 

 

 

 

Product Criticism

 

On Coke carton: “15 cans! That’s 3 more than a 12-can carton!” Um, yeah, I figured that out myself.

On Pepsi carton: “Tastes great over ice!” Wow! I’d never have thought of that!

I’m sure you’re expecting me to weigh in on the latest McDonald’s controversy. Well, if you’ve heard of it, anyway. Someone is suing McDonald’s because they wanted their Quarter Pounder without cheese, and didn’t think they should have to pay for the cheese. (I am just imagining damages paid for however many cents a slice of cheese is, through a lifetime of burgers.) McDonald’s is maintaining that the sandwich’s full name is “Quarter Pounder With Cheese,” and that therefore cheese is part of the nature of the item, and that the plaintiff could just pick the cheese off anyway.

I’m not sure what justice is in this case, but I can make several points. (Of course I can!)

–Telling someone they can “just pick off the parts you don’t like” is invalid. The juice of the unliked item remains on the burger. My personal nemesis is onions, but even though I like cheese, I know it would melt into the burger and ruin it for someone who didn’t.

–And before McDonald’s gets too snooty, the original patent for the item in 1975 mentioned cheese as an optional feature. And I remember when the Quarter Pounder was introduced (you saw that coming, didn’t you?). You ordered either a Quarter Pounder (in white styrofoam carton) or a Quarter Pounder with Cheese (in yellow styrofoam). I don’t remember when they decided to default to the Cheese option, but it was not always thus.

–And most importantly, how does this affect me? I dislike a bunch of stuff they put on burgers (I was appalled the first time I ever went to McDonald’s as a child and realized they put everything on burgers–who gets ketchup and mustard and pickles and onions?). But it never occurred to me to tell them, “I don’t want the mustard and pickles and onions, and I don’t want to pay for them, either. Subtract 7 cents from my bill.”

All this is making me want a cheeseburger.

 

I Remembered To Show Up

…belatedly.

OBSERVATIONAL HUMOR

…is what Rom says this is.

Brought to you courtesy of Nick, who showed up at my door on my birthday with a gift bag full of apple ale clenched in his teeth, before flying away. The bag was black and had scratchy glitter on it. I suspect this was deliberate. Have you noticed that such bags always have the scratchy glitter on one side, but are smooth on the other side, so that glitter doesn’t rub off on your clothes? Why do I always have to touch the glitter anyway, even though it makes me shudder?

I have had 2 cans of ale (my normal dose), which makes me want to spend money on something self-indulgent. Last year it was green-and-white gingham shorts, but I resisted the temptation. (I love green-and-white gingham, and plaid with a black background. These prints give me a feeling of security. They’re like the opposite of the Baby Corn and the Union Suit. Anyone remember those? Check the posts under Conspiracy News for more info.)Now am tempted by some Keds in Iris Shimmer, and an Almond Cucumber perfume sample, even though I tried the AC perfume before and it didn’t work for me. Almond and cucumber are my comfort notes (kind of like the Magic Prints noted above), so I keep thinking, But it has to work! Sometimes perfume just refuses to cooperate.

OK, I hit some key that keeps deleting stuff I didn’t intend, and I don’t know what I hit, so I can’t correct it, and that is why the above paragraph is incorrectly punctuated.

SONG LYRIC ANALYSIS–MOODY BLUES

“Schoolwork, one and one is two

But you know that now that’s just not true”

Yes, it is true. Your ingestion of LSD does not affect its veracity.

AND THE DOORS

Rom says that “When the Music’s Over–turn out the lights” makes him think, “turnip delight.” You’re welcome. I hope I can forget that before I listen to it again.

Today is the 2nd anniversary of Alien Finger, which is celebrating by being stiff and sore, which I suppose is appropriate. I keep reading about people who dislocate a finger, pop it right back in, and it’s good as new. What’s their secret? Youth, probably.

Today is Pentecost, which makes me think, “Here he comes to save the day! That means the Paraclete is on his way!”

Long ago, my cousin Becky (hurray for Facebook and cousin Linda, who helped me discover cousins on the Forbidden Side of the family!) asked me, “Do you miss working?” After long thought, I can say I sometimes miss having a job (a Purpose in Life and all that, though I never thought of 911 as that purpose), but I don’t miss having that job. As I think every time I go by Dispatch on the bus and think, Glad I’m not answering phones in there.

IT HAS TO BE CLASSY, IT HAS CARPET–TACO JOHN’S

I visited this fine establishment on Cinco de Mayo. Since it was Saturday, I had church, and couldn’t go to Hacienda and have a strawberry daiquiri, which would have been the logical thing to do. Although people might have been drunk at St Boniface Church before.

Taco John’s has been around since 1969, although Rom can’t remember it the year he graduated from high school. The identity of Taco John is mysterious. I imagine him being kind of like Johnny Appleseed.

TJ’s is the only carpeted fast-food place I know of. Like the Women’s Hospital, the addition of carpet adds a certain cachet. It’s almost like you’re at home, except that someone cut into your abdomen. At the hospital, I mean, not at Taco John’s.

My softshell taco was very good, especially since the clever person who assembled it added a tuck-and-fold technique that meant I didn’t have to balance it carefully to keep everything from falling out the end. That must have been a Cinco de Mayo special, though, since it has fallen out the end every other time I’ve been there.

Ah, Potato Ole’s. The old Mexican classic of disc-shaped Tater Tots sprinkled with Lawry’s seasoned salt. Cinco de Mayo marked the first time I have ever finished an order. And if you put cheese on them, you are gilding the lily. And if you put bacon bits, donut bites, icing, and chocolate on them and EAT THEM FOR DESSERT, WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?

TJ’s has a senior discount of 10%. I forgot to add discount information when I wrote about Taco Bell, but that was because I got 10% off there once, and the next time I requested it, the manager said they didn’t have a discount. Maybe I just looked too young.

LEGGINGS AS PANTS UPDATE

I am actually not against leggings as a lower half, as long as you wear a butt-covering top. But today I saw a woman who did wear a butt-covering top, but then knotted it up in the back, because she got dressed and thought, “Oh no! Now no one can see my butt!”

Speaking of entities trying to defy me, the roses in my yard, which normally bloom in mid-May, burst into glorious bloom simultaneously on THE DAY AFTER MY BIRTHDAY.

Spellcheck thinks “donut” is not a word. I don’t know what to tell it.

WordPress has an icon in the corner that says “Stress-Free Writing Experience.” I have to find out what that might be, but I am too stressed-out at the moment. As is Alien Finger.

 

 

It’s Not Easy Being Dead

I just liked that from the previous post. Yes! I can cannibalize even from the immediately previous post! Speaking of the previous post…

OTHER NON-REASONS I WEAR PERFUME

I don’t wear it in place of soap and deodorant. So much for those who say, “I don’t need perfume–shower. This isn’t the old days when we didn’t have soap.”

I don’t wear it to seduce anyone. As in, “You shouldn’t try to be sexy at the office, so why would you wear perfume to work?”

I wear it because it smells good (to me–other people might disagree, but I might disagree with their choice of leggings as pants), and because a great perfume is a work of art.

YOU MIGHT BE A REDNECK IF…

Overheard on the bus:

“I told my son, ‘You better put that trash out before you go to bed tonight.’ So when I saw he went to bed and it wasn’t done, I took it and dumped it over him. He woke up and said, ‘You dumped it on me!’ and I said, ‘Yeah, I needed room to put more in.'” To be charitable, let’s assume that she was speaking about a wastepaper basket, not the garbage can in the kitchen. One hates to think what would happen if he hadn’t cleaned the litter box.

UNWANTED RESTAURANT REVIEW–TACO BELL

You thought I’d given up doing these, didn’t you? Since I only did the one of McDonald’s, and that was like a year ago, in fast-food time.

I’m sorry to say this about Rom’s favorite fast-food place, but I seldom go to Taco Bell. My infrequent desires for Mexican food are better met by Taco John’s, right down the street. (Taco Bell vs. John’s is a Chevy-vs.-Ford sort of controversy in these parts, and equally unresolved.) But I mean to cover all the places on St Joe between Maryland and Franklin (that allow me to eat on the premises, that is, which may cut out the pizza places), so it must be included.

I had, as I think I said once before on here, actually been avoiding TB entirely since the time they completely forgot about my order–even though I was right there on the premises waiting for it. I tend to resent places that give priority to the drive-through over the counter, since I, of course, am always at the counter.

A BRIEF ANNOUNCEMENT BROUGHT TO YOU BY MY EXPERIENCE AT  MCDONALDS YESTERDAY: WHY WOULD YOU ORDER MCDONALDS FROM YOUR SMARTPHONE WHEN YOU ARE ALREADY STANDING AT THEIR COUNTER?! HUH?

Where were we? Right, at Taco Bell, across the street from McDonald’s.

Anyway, they had no problem remembering my presence this time. The sign outside said, “Need money? Taco to us about a job that’s nachos yet!” so perhaps there had been an employee shakeup. Although the other sign that said, “Work at your happy place!” might have taken it a bit far.

Unfortunately, this time they weren’t playing their 70’s rock soundtrack. What they were playing was so forgettable that I forgot it.

One problem I’ve had with Taco Bell is their lack of side dishes, unless you’re into nachos, which I’m not. So I was pleased to discover their Mexican rice, which I had with a soft taco. The latter was eerily similar to the same item at Taco John’s, except for Taco Bell-style ground beef, which is, as I’ve noted, inferior. However, both items were entirely adequate. So now I have a menu plan for those times when everyone else in my group wants Taco Bell. Which would really only happen in the mid-70’s, with 7 of us stuffed into a VW bug with a bottle of Boone’s Farm wine. As the old joke goes:

Officer to a driver at a DUI checkpoint:

“I’ll have to give you a field sobriety test.”

“OK.”

“Now text your ex.”

“I’d rather not.”

“Wanna go get Taco Bell?”

“No, I’m good.”

“OK, you’re free to go.”

Restroom review: Atomic-powered toilet that wants to shoot you to the stars when you flush, and no place to put your stuff while you wash your hands.

Yes, this review is less than enthusiastic, but I warned you going in.

I PUT OFF PAYING MY UTILITY BILL SO I COULD TELL YOU THIS

Why is there all this extra writing on the back of the envelope? Besides the usual “Manage your account online.” It reads:

Step 1) Write your Vectren Energy Delivery account number on check.” {I refuse to do this. They have my name and a piece of paper with my account number already on it in the envelope. Besides, no one needs a 19-digit account number.}

Step 2) Place stamp on return envelope and ensure your address is visible through the film window. {I resist the temptation to ensure both of these things are upside-down.}

Step 3) Mail payment at least 5 business days prior to due date to ensure timely delivery.

Step 4) {which is actually in boldface type because this is what they’re really getting at} Avoid steps 1-3 next time by creating an online account and paying your bill online!

Your cheery exclamation point does not deceive me. It’s easy to make anything seem like an unbearable chore if you write it that way. I can do it myself:

PAYING YOUR BILL ONLINE

Step 1) Attempt to remember username. What combination of your names/initials did you use?

Step 2) Attempt to remember password. Get told that your password–

a.) must include letters, numbers, and a “special character”

1.) mutter, “But I am a ‘special character’!”

b. cannot be the same as a password you’ve used in the past 3 months

Step 3) Click on “Forgot password?”

Step 4) Get asked your mother’s maiden name. Try to remember whether you used all-caps, all lower-case, or a combination of the two.

Step 5) Prove you’re not a robot. {And, in the final analysis, can any of us prove that?}

Step 6) Ask for a second chance to prove you’re not a robot, since you could not read the first chance any better than a robot could.

Step 7) Finally access bill-payment screen.

Step 8) Make sure your information matches what they already have on file.

Step 9) Click on “Pay Now.”

Step 10) Get advised to “Print a copy for your records.”

Step 11) Tell them, “I shouldn’t need to do that, because the whole point of doing it this way is supposedly to avoid paper.”

Sure, you will now say, “You’re presenting the worst-case scenario!” but I assure you, at best it involves 3 steps, just like doing it not online. The real point is that they want you to do it online because it saves them money, because they don’t have to pay someone to enter it into their computer system, because you just did it for them.

And if anyone wants to hire me to write stuff on the back of envelopes, meet me at McDonald’s.

 

 

 

Environmental Enrichment Required

I seem to have a dearth of material now that I’m retired, unless Nick were to kidnap me and take me on some horrible Adventure, I suppose. After all, how often do you need to read my opinion of holiday decorations?

BUT YOU’RE GOING TO HEAR IT ANYWAY

‘Tis the season for gag-inducing cinnamon candles at the dollar store, the candle they would make me burn in Hell. Especially since they’ve had problems with the glass in their candles exploding when it gets hot. I bet all glass in Hell explodes when it gets hot.

OK, I guess candle-burning in Hell is an interesting topic.

HARKING BACK TO YE DAYS OF YORE WHEN I DID HAVE MATERIAL

On I guess March 21 2013 (I don’t know what time zone WordPress is in, but it sure ain’t mine, so all their dating is suspect), I reported a caller saying that someone needed to be “cemented” (they meant “committed”), and a caller saying, “There’s been a suicide….I’m the victim.”

HARKING BACK TO YON DAYS OF YORE EVEN FURTHER

Astrology for ’75:

Taurus woman/Cancer man: “He’ll lick your belly button when you’re not looking.” I don’t advise anyone to lick my belly button. Even if I am looking.

Taurus woman/Leo man: “Wear emotional sunglasses to avoid burns.” Where do you get those glasses?

Secret Wish for Aquarius: “Having a tall, silvery humanoid/astronaut go to the moon and back to prove his devotion to you, having him proclaim his love for you on network TV.”

ANOTHER DISSATISFIED CUSTOMER

The guy in front of me at McDonald’s was making a complaint. The manager said, “I’ll replace your entire order, sir.” He said, “I don’t want my order replaced!” (I’m thinking, Shut up, let them replace your order, and let us all get on with our lives and lunches.) Then he said, “Where’s the dude I talked to on the phone?” Ah, the Dude I Talked To On The Phone. I used to work with him.

McRib is back! Tastes like a weiner, shaped like a bone!

I Hate a Parade

Therefore, the festival parade got rained on.

Rom said, “You should post more frequently so you don’t forget stuff.” Yeah, good intentions, what the road to hell is paved with, etc. I’m inclined to think the road to hell is not well-marked, either.

The bus today was standing-room-only, thanks to a woman whose attitude was, “I can’t be expected to move over. I have a tote bag.”

A CUSTOMER WAS LESS-THAN-RIGHT AT MCDONALDS

Speaking of which, in that blessedly cool and quiet setting, a woman marched up to the counter with 2 orders of fries and said, “These are cold and nasty. And I want 3 orders back.” OK, if you paid for 3 orders but only got 2, fine. If someone in your party already ate one order even though they were cold, or you expect to get an additional, free order of fries as compensation, too bad. And try not to be such a bitch. See, if my fries aren’t hot, I consider it to be in the nature of fast food, and better luck next time.

This is why they never made me the supervisor of anything.

CANNIBALIZATION, continued

My 3rd post (“World Without End”) was about how I got religion, if anyone has been wondering. Trust me, I was not Likeliest To Attend Church when I started at Dispatch. In the interest of brevity, that post featured only why I became religious in the first place, not why I embraced any particular religion. So here’s that explanation:

After my initial ecstatic experience in March of ’95, I feverishly read up on various religions, but came to no firm conclusion. Then I decided that, if God really was trying to get in touch with me, surely guidance would be provided, so I prayed for that. Around dawn on a day in  June (those who know me at all will know I was staying up late, not getting up early), I was idly paging through an old Bible I still possessed, and my eye fell on the verse in Matthew that says Ask, and you shall receive. This felt like a Sign to me, and I started attending St Paul’s Episcopal church downtown (that being the denomination I was raised in). And yes, I am aware of the objection that I probably chose it just because it was familiar to me. I’m pretty much aware of any objections to faith that can be found.

My conversion to Catholicism was more of an intellectual decision. I had been reading church history, and was troubled by all the divisions that had arisen, from the Orthodox split in 1054 to the Protestant Reformation. Jesus is on record saying that Christians should all be one, and we Episcopalians prayed for unity at every service, but we were part of the problem! So on Ash Wednesday 2002 at St Paul’s, I was gazing out the stained glass window that had been refurbished thanks to my contribution that year, and thinking, “Too bad that window has my name on a plaque, since I’ll be a Catholic now.” Since I hadn’t consciously made the decision yet, I was a bit unsettled by that thought. But I got my ashes and headed for the bus stop to go home, and prayed, “God, if I ought to  become a Catholic, let someone ask me if the ashes on my forehead mean that I’m Catholic.” In the past, comments on my ashes were either “You have some dirt on your face,” or, “Are you in a cult?” (Seriously.) When I got on the bus, a guy pointed to my face and said, “Are you a Roman Catholic?” So there you have it.

 

I Am a Cannibal

Hey, they said to start with an attention-grabbing title! And now that I’ve got your attention, since I screwed up the punchline of the joke I ended with last time, here is the actual joke, for the 2 people who haven’t heard it:

–A farm boy and his girlfriend are walking along a country lane through his father’s fields. They see a cow and a bull doing, um, what a cow and a bull do when they love each other very much. The boy turns to his girlfriend and says, “I’d sure like to be doing what that bull is doing right now.” The girl says, “Go ahead. It’s your cow.”

What I am getting at here is that I will be cannibalizing previous posts, since there’s funny stuff in them, especially from work, that I’d forgotten. Sure, you could say I’m doing it to make up for the fact that I no longer have access to fresh material along that line. You could say that, but you’d hurt my feelings.

THIS OBSERVATION BROUGHT TO YOU BY REDD’S APPLE ALE

Did you know that blogging is something you can do while you have the hiccups? As opposed to saying the rosary, or reading aloud to myself (one of my autistic things, I’ve done it since I learned to read), which are my other options at the moment. But, lest my faithful FanBase feel like a mere convenience, let me also observe that as soon as I sat down here and started, I thought, “God, I love this! Why don’t I do it more often?” This may be because I’m drunk, but in vino veritas, as them ancient Romans used to say, and I’ve found it to be frequently true. Or to be true frequently. Syntax is not my strong point at the moment. I’m actually not even sure exactly what syntax is, but it sounds good. (Charles, can you help? I remember you mentioned it once in an email in the 90’s.)

(“Stop pounding the keyboard!” Alien Finger whines. Why did I need to dislocate that finger, anyway?)

WordPress is now telling me, “Subscription required for speech features!” I don’t know what button I hit. I wasn’t trying to talk to anybody, God forbid. I can barely handle what to italicize.

SCARIEST BUSINESS NAME I’VE SEEN

“Deaconess Comprehensive Pain Center.”

SPEAKING OF SCARY…

Dear A Certain Person, I saw 2 items at Walgreen’s you need–a spider skeleton, and a Mexican Day of the Dead-style Rottweiler. Sure, I could just send you these items, but then I’d need to pay for them. (“Does she know my address?” A Certain Person wonders nervously.)

FASHION OBSERVATION

I said it before and I’ll say it again–“tactical pants” is a silly term. “My pants are an integral part of the plan.” Right, Nick? Rom says he’s holding out for strategic pants. Until then, he wears Real Workwear jeans from Rural King, the official men’s pants of the West Side. Rural King is Rom’s favorite designer.

MCDONALD’S UPDATE

They do, too, have pumpkin pies. The Marketing Book lied to me. They are not quite the same as the previous ones, but are “pumpkin cream pies,” with a quantity of white stuff which has a cheesecakey quality. I eat them every chance I get.

Donald Trump recommends Big Macs and Quarter Pounders. Of course, this is a man who believes that exercise is bad for you.

I ALMOST FORGOT…

The only thing I found of note in my very first post (“What Are You Doing Here?” February 2013) was the observation that “The Internet lets a cult of personality develop around a person with no charisma.” Um, yeah.

The Title I Almost Forgot

ADVENTURES WITH ALCOHOL

First you forget that you need to do the laundry. Then you think, I’ll get to it when I finish this can. Then you think, How important is laundry in the scheme of life, anyway? Even though WEDNESDAY IS LAUNDRY DAY, for no other reason than to commemorate that my final day of work was Wednesday. Or my first day of retirement. Or something.

Speaking of which, Redd’s Wicked Apple Ale, which I just finished my Labor Day carton of, has a commercial in which drinking it makes your friends develop animal heads, like the Taheen in the Dark Tower. If anything like that happens for me, I’ll let you know.

GOOD THING I JUST REMEMBERED THAT I GOT CHOCOLATE ON ONE OF MY ROSE-PRINT SWEATERS AND NEED TO PRE-TREAT IT, OF SUCH TRIUMPHS A SUCCESSFUL LIFE IS MADE

OBSERVATIONS ON SORTING LAUNDRY

I sure own a lot of pants.

FURTHER OBSERVATIONS ON MCDONALD’S

…because alcohol affects memory, who knew?

Dress code: Casual. I was overdressed, since my t-shirt didn’t have writing on it.

Announcement on sign: PUMPKIN SPICE IS BACK–without the customary exclamation point. They’re jaded about it by now. But they will not have the pumpkin pies they had a few years ago–the manager checked the Marketing Book for me. I wish I could see that Marketing Book, and report back to you on its contents.

STUFF THAT WILL BE FEATURED ON S.G. IN THE FUTURE

I will be re-visiting old posts, partly to satisfy my own curiosity. Sure, it’s cannibalizing my own material, but, as the old joke says, it’s my cow. (Everyone rushes to look up that punch line on Google. Or it might have been a sheep. Or something.) 

 

More Stuff

Not really up for an imaginative title, so this will have to do.

STUFF I FORGOT YESTERDAY

…because, pizza.

–McDonald’s 80’s soundtrack provides some of the finest listening. It’s not the stuff you always hear, either. Today’s offering: Devo’s “Satisfaction,” where someone obviously asked, “Can the Stones classic be redone without the iconic riff?” and the answer is, “Yeah, I guess so.”

Senior discount at McD’s is a small beverage for a reduced price, and no, I can’t remember what the price is. I seldom choose that option, since I prefer the large Styrofoam cup (bumper sticker: “My other water bottle is 10,000 Styrofoam cups.”). YES, I SAID STYROFOAM, I’M TOO DRUNK TO CARE IT’S A TRADEMARK. Or to remember what the non-trademarked term is. I don’t know the age limit for the discount, either, since one employee told me 55 and another said 65. (Hey, is that a legal defense in court? “I was too drunk to care”?)

Also, I can imagine someone–OK, Nick, I can imagine Nick–saying, “What do you mean, the new seating arrangement makes it harder for you to sit in the corner? The building still has the same number of corners.” OK, I mean THERE ARE NOW SO MANY DIFFERENT CHAIR VS. TABLE OPTIONS THAT I HAVE TO RETHINK WHERE I WANT TO SIT EACH TIME I GO THERE. OK? ARE YOU SATISFIED? (Nick, loftily: “You’re hallucinating and making stuff up again, but I am just glad any time my name comes up.”)

 

 

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