Scratchy Glitter

Observations for the easily irritated.

Tag: fast food

The Things That Happen Between Life Events

meal food dish mexican

Photo by Raduz on Pexels.com

The title is how one of my sisters-in-law (they are numerous and aggressive) defined this blog, which she seemed to have a high opinion of. YES, I KEEP ALL POSITIVE COMMENTS IN AN EMAIL FOLDER MARKED “STROKEFEST,” DOESN’T EVERYONE?

Interesting–spellcheck now thinks “email” is a word. It does not feel the same way about “StrokeFest,” however.

This post is brought to you in spite of a poisoned taco. My advice: if the center of your fast-food taco meat is cool, DO NOT KEEP EATING IT. As I did. I even thought at the time, “Well, if I get sick tomorrow, I’ll know what caused it.” So I did. Get sick, and know what caused it. One does not always have that assurance.

COSMO ASTROLOGY ’85

Interior decoration for Scorpio: “Who else but Scorpio would toss a paisley shawl over her TV? Or line bathroom walls with dozens of small framed mirrors? Or buy a funky old dinette set at a thrift shop and paint it lime green? Or make witty collages out of family memorabilia? Or…”

Let’s break these observations down one-by-one:

  1. I don’t think it takes Scorpio boldness to toss a paisley shawl over a TV. Of course, if I tossed one, it would probably slide off. Maybe that’s what they meant–that Scorpio strength of will would keep it from doing so.
  2. Why would you line a bathroom wall with dozens of mirrors, none of them big enough to see yourself in?
  3. I’m glad only a Scorpio would buy a funky old dinette set and paint it lime green. That means we have only a one-in-twelve chance of it happening.
  4. On the other hand, I think more than one-twelfth of the population has made witty collages out of family memorabilia. Even though you run the risk of your family not appreciating your wit. I once made a witty collage for my bedroom wall out of ads which expressed the image I had of myself. I was 14 at the time, and I also made a picture of a flying hippogriff (traced from an illustration in E.R. Eddison’s novel “The Worm Ouroborous,” in case you thought I could draw), with a psychedelic border design made with brightly-colored magic markers, captioned “Fly Trans-Love Airways” (from Donovan’s song “The Fat Angel”–Cupid, get it?), in Lord of the Rings Elvish script. And I wondered why I had no friends.

Speaking of the 80’s, Harper’s Bazaar now tells us that 80’s retro fashion is in (I think for the second time–we’re running out of decades to be ironic about), with “neon-bright colors and oversized silhouettes.” Sure, it’s a change from the undersized silhouettes I got sick of long ago, but why can’t we have clothes that just fit normally?

Vote for me, I’m the Outsider, etc.

Creepy and Eerie: Serge Lutens Iris Silver Mist

black and white gray grey smooth

Photo by rawpixel.com on Pexels.com

Continuing our exploration of misty fragrances in general, and iris perfumes in particular, how could we omit one named Iris Silver Mist?

Serge Lutens may be the most esteemed genius perfumer currently working. His scents are considered works of art, but they are often compared to pictures you admire in a museum, but wouldn’t necessarily want hanging in your home. ISM is no exception.

Various reviewers have said that Iris Silver Mist should be worn by:

  1. Cathy’s ghost in Wuthering Heights
  2. a Star Wars stormtrooper
  3. a Terminator cyborg
  4. a character in Frank Herbert’s Dune
  5. the White Witch of Narnia
  6. various Harry Potter characters–a. Dumbledore, b. a Dementor, or c. Lord Voldemort himself (yes, Nick, I said his name)

So you can see that this perfume takes a lot of living up to.

Most reviewers say that it smells like roots and dirt in the opening. I don’t get that, probably because I’m not a gardener. What I get is a well-blended but spare mix of iris, incense, and sandalwood, cold and extremely austere. I love it, but the thing about it is, well, the strange effect it has on my emotions. An effect I find hard to explain.

OK, the analogy just occurred to me. It’s like Clive Barker’s writing. Barker is a horror writer beyond compare, and I own a lot of his stuff, but I don’t think I’ve read any of it more than once. It just creeps me out too much. The stuff in it is utterly implausible (and Barker himself doesn’t actually believe in any of that occult nonsense), but I feel like if I read it too much, I would believe in it. And then I’d go insane.

How could a perfume, as coldly beautiful as it is, have a similar effect? Who knows? I just know that Iris Silver Mist is the opposite of a comfort scent for me–a discomfort scent, if you will. It makes me nervous. It’s what my evil twin would wear. Fittingly, Rom hates it more than any other perfume I’ve tried. He literally ran out the door the first time he smelled it.

Let’s stop talking about it now, shall we?

STUFF OTHER THAN IRIS SILVER MIST

Taco John’s has finally removed their one wobbly table with the two (2) wobbly chairs. Yes, I know this because I without-fail always picked that one to sit at.

Ad at Taco John’s–“Potato Ole’s. Call them crispy, golden slices of heaven.” OK, if you insist.

Another ad (yes, Taco John’s is all I did today, other than buy some body wash, after a lengthy discussion of the coupon policies of CVS)–“Upgrade your drink to medium or large, scan the code on the cup, and enter to win food, Cabela’s gear, or a Yellowstone adventure trip!” Hint: if the Cabela’s gear I hope to win (not that I will, having no smartphone to scan with) is just clothes, I’m not the right candidate for a Yellowstone adventure trip. Or any other adventure trip, really. OK, or any adventure whatsoever.

EXCEPT, OF COURSE…

…the adventure that is the Presidency! Vote for me! I’m the Outsider! And yet a Radical Centrist, at the same time! How do I manage it?

 

 

 

Creepy Eating at Taco Bell

portrait of young woman with umbrella

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

No, the person in the picture is not me, although I can see why you’d think so.

I decided to eat at Taco Bell yesterday, because I wanted the one thing they could offer me–a chicken quesadilla (the one at Taco John’s has stuff in it I don’t like that looks like boogers).

Since it was raining, the helpful bus driver actually drove me across the street to get me nearer to the desired location. Taco Bell on St Joe (as opposed to the evil one on Lloyd which removed its attendant KFC–why would you want Taco Bell if you could get KFC?) has two entrances, one from the parking lot and one from the street. I, naturally, chose the latter. Walked in the door, and the manager LOCKED THE DOOR AFTER ME. This was disconcerting, especially since I was the only customer, but I was determined to have that quesadilla. (Doesn’t that sound like a relative of the armadilla?) The manager then walked over and locked the other door also. I thought, What is this? Some kind of Stephen King deal? The horrific ARMADILLA will burst through the floor tiles and devour me? I thought of demanding to be let out at once, but I was determined to have that quesadilla. I didn’t bolt it down in a panic, either. I had to shrug my shoulders at several puzzled customers who tried the door and couldn’t understand why I was in there eating alone, as if I’d reserved the place. Then another employee asked the manager, “Why is it locked?” and she said something about “they’ll track across the lobby.” So she was planning to NOT LET ANYBODY IN until it stopped raining. She abandoned this plan when she saw that everyone who tried the door did not just go through the drive-through instead, as she’d been hoping, but left, no doubt to go to Taco John’s in the next block, which was letting people track across their classy CARPETED lobby.

BUT NOW…

Are we alone now? Is Mark Zuckerberg gone? Good. Today marks the end of Facebook automatically notifying my tiny helpless group of Facebook friends every time I write a new blog post. Facebook has decided that a blog is a Commercial Enterprise, rather than a personal one. This is news to me, since I make no money off it. They say it’s in the interest of not annoying people with unwanted commercial content, which could, as it happens, be allowed to annoy people anyway if I gave Facebook some money. “If you’re a public figure, it’s to your advantage to turn your Profile into a Page!” they say. I ask you–am I a public figure?

Anyway, I am just going to manually link my blog posts to my Facebook feed until they make me stop that, too. I am encouraged by the fact that, since I resumed illustrating the blog, Facebook has started labeling it as a “photo” instead of a “post.” They allow photos, right?

A USEFUL DISTINCTION

I dreamed that the government set up totalitarian rule, and I tried to warn Nick about it, but they seized my papers and computer. Maybe Nick was actually IN ON IT.

Just remember: armed henchmen sent by the public sector are “jackbooted thugs;” if sent by the private sector, they are “hired goons.”

–Donald Trump sends someone to seize my stuff = jackbooted thugs.

–Mark Zuckerberg sends someone to seize my stuff = hired goons.

KNOW YOUR OPPRESSOR!

I AM NOT INSANE.

 

 

 

The Whole Violet Plant: Borsari Violetta di Parma

beautiful bloom blooming blossom

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Today is National Lipstick Day, and I’m spending it in Vintage Pink gloss. (I am a true boomer, and associate real lipstick with my mother’s generation.) “Vintage” is a fitting concept for exploring Violetta di Parma, a fragrance which debuted in 1870. (It actually predated that by about half a century, having been originally created for Marie-Louise of Austria and Parma, Napoleon’s second wife. 1870 was the year it became commercially available.) (Disclaimer: Borsari Violetta di Parma was actually discontinued in 2014. A company called Jewel’s Joy then purchased the name and reformulated the scent, giving it “youthful actuality,” whatever that is. This review is for the Borsari original, which can still be found online. All hail the Internet!)

If African Violet is just the flowers, ma’am, and Devon Violets is flowers + green leaves, Violetta di Parma is the whole thing. Green leafy notes, sweet but somehow un-powdery violet, and just a bit of woodsiness at the base. It reminds me of one of those botanist’s drawings of the violet plant, showcasing each part of the plant in turn, including the stems and roots. It is very natural-smelling, which makes it seem very modern, since the current trend in scent is “non-perfumey.” I sometimes think we can blame the boomers for that, too, or at least the hippies. I always liked perfume in all its forms, but I grew up amidst classmates who wore “just the natural oils, man.” All cultural analysis aside, VdP is a brilliant depiction of violet, and the first thing I would recommend to any lover of that note. My cat Glamour, for instance, who insists on Rom giving her a violet leaf to eat every morning, and is intensely interested in any violet perfume I sample.

Side note: Marie Louise was obsessed with violets, as I am with roses, and often wrote in violet ink. Perhaps I should start writing in red ink.

MCDONALD’S REPORT!

Not satisfied with turning the interior into something, well, unique, in its Vintage Boomer Mid-Century Modernity, the McDonalds on St Joe is now remodeling the outside. Who knows what wonders are to come? It seems ill-advised to remodel the exterior after the interior, but what do I know? I do know that one piece of machinery (some type of hydraulic lift that lets you move in all directions without climbing a ladder) had a sign written in magic marker saying “Cold Coal Chamber.–‘Monkey'”. Was this equipment somehow coal-powered? How could coal power anything if it was cold? Who is “Monkey,” and how, exactly, would a monkey be involved? Mysteries abound.

CELEBRITY NEWS

…is something you’ll next-to-never hear from me, but Cardi B named her new baby “Kulture.” I don’t really think we should legislate what people are allowed to name their kids, but it’s tempting. Of course, we can’t really blame the mother, whose first name is apparently “Cardigan.”

The ever-eclectic Rom is playing En Vogue singing “Free Your Mind and the Rest Will Follow.” I guess they’re not going to admit that the original sentiment was “Free Your Mind and Your Ass Will Follow,” which I first heard from Parliament or Funkadelic. One of those George Clinton outfits, anyway.

 

 

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!

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