Friday, May 7, 2010

Noodles are life.

“I feel like crap on toast.”

That is my favorite quote to describe a really bad hangover. It was originally said by Michelle from the Gilmore Girls (a male character, but he’s French so it doesn’t count).

Dear readers, I have some vital advice for you today. If you have people over, and your roommate brings home a half gallon of Jack Daniels (the greatest of all beverages ever), and someone sets up a bitchin’ game of Guitar Hero, do NOT think, “I will drink this tasty whiskey and be a total bad ass on Guitar Hero, but I will not eat any dinner. WILD STALLIONS!” Especially don’t do this if you have to be awake for your terrible job that literally (and I say this with no hyperbole, a first for this zlog) makes you think about killing yourself every.single.motherfucking.day.

Yeah...I did. I woke up at about 4:30 in the morning (two and a half hours before I had to get up for my stupid shit, soul crushing job) and thought I had died. Not that I was dying, that I had literally died and that being dead hurt a WHOLE FUCKING LOT.

Fortunately, one of my roommates had made noodley stuffs for him and the two other people that were still up. Unfortunately for one of those people, I stole most of their food. Well, stole with consent. They looked at me and said, “Ohhhh, you look sick.” “Uhhh.” I then grabbed the bowl out of his hand and ate it while apologizing. To which he replied, “No problem, you obviously need it more.” I ate about three quarters of it (I am SO FUCKING GENEROUS) and went right back to bed. Those noodles saved my fucking life (something that has happened more than once to me in my time).

So yeah, I spent my day at working wanting to die, for physical on top of just the normal, cubicle related reasons. I would have fucking killed for an opiate. Killed anything, not just a human. If some guy was like, “Kill that elk over there and you can have this handful of oxycontin.” That elk would be going the fuck down. With my hands, because fashioning a weapon would take away oxy time.

So yeah, my message today is: eat. Eat often and well. Don’t eat stupid flavorless shit just because it’s supposedly “good” for you, don’t eat only crap because you think it makes you cool, don’t not eat because you think people actually care what you look like, and definitely don’t refrain from eating because Mr. Jack Daniels (or any other commercial brand) tells you it’ll be totally cool if you don’t. It will not be cool. In fact, you will feel the opposite of “cool.” What’s the opposite of cool? Oh yeah, whatever is happening in my stomach right now.

Tuesday, January 19, 2010

I'm Cautiously Optimistic You Couldn't Get Any Stupider.

The long awaited haiku results are finally in and the winner is...POONTANG83. Like it was even a competition, he’s named after my favorite food. Princess blah blah blah wasn’t even in the running because she’s a vegan and vegan’s fail at life. Even vegans hate vegans. That’s why they deny themselves meat and dairy. That’s a level of self-loathing I can’t even begin to comprehend. Ok ok, I know what she’s going to say, “But I’m a VEGETARIAN now.” Just because you fail and failure doesn’t make you a success.

Moving on. The economy, am I right? Eh? Eh? Ok, the economy blows, but you know what blows just as much? Everyone writing about the economy. I swear if I read the term “cautiously optimistic” one more time, I’m going to punch a baby in its spine. Every fucking market “expert” is “cautiously optimistic” about their respective industry. “No one can buy houses, but I’m cautiously optimistic 2010 will see gains.” “Lending is frozen, but we’re cautiously optimistic the banks will rebound in the coming months.” “The top car industry executives are cashing in cans and sexual favors to buy food, but I’m cautiously optimistic the new era of the American auto industry is upon us.” “Cautiously optimistic” apparently means “SHIT FUCK BALLS we’re screwed.”

No. The Toastygod is here to translate, YET AGAIN. “Cautiously optimistic” means “it can’t get any worse.” Seriously guys. We don’t need a bunch of fucking MBA douchebags to tell any of us that either the economy is going to get better, or we all better start training for Thunder Dome. It’s either be “cautiously optimistic” that civilization will continue, or start hording water in your underground bunker. And we all know that most business executives are worth less than ball sweat on both the slave labor and sex markets.

And that’s advice you can take to the bank.

Actually, don’t go to the bank. Those places are money death. Money under the mattress FTW!