So, this is my second post about food. I really like food, and my hips can prove it. Today, since my roomie was taking a new yoga class, I was on my own for dinner. I was starving, and then I remembered that I had a coupon bag for a FREE burrito!! Thank you Sunday paper! Here is a little insight to my burrito order:
-I order the chicken fajita burrito. It comes with chicken, rice and fajita veggies. When they ask me if I want beans, I get irritated. It doesn't come with beans, thank you. -Sometimes I get "just a little" rice. Usually when I feel chubby. -I get the hot salsa. It is a red sauce that is better than the Qdoba sauce, because it is actually spicy. -I get sour cream and "lots of rice." I am not afraid to ask for more cheese. Because cheese is awesome. -Before I eat it, I roll it. As in... I take it while it is sill in the tin foil, and roll it like my hands are a rolling pin. Sometimes I roll it like rolling a bread stick in my hand. The point is to evenly distribute the salsa and the sour cream. I taught my sister this, and she taught her friends. It is now a phenomenon. - After the roll, I take a bite and look at the distribution. Sometimes I have to shift the fold of the burrito, so that the bite is lined up in a more balanced way. - I like to have my final bite contain a chunk of cheese. That way, my mouth is not as hot.
There was a couple in front of me today that had never been to Chipotle. They got the regular chicken burrito, with the mild and the corn salsa. They seemed upset that guacamole would be extra. Where do you ever go that guacamole is included? Anyhow- I wonder if they will be back. They came in with their free burrito bag too, so I guess it is fair to say that the Chipotle marketing team deserves a raise.
So. Sorry for the delay. I was over at the boyfriend's this weekend, and his internet was not working. Boo. Right before I was about to dump him, the cox guy showed up and fixed it. Joking. I wouldn't dump someone over lack of internet.... would I? ;)
Today, my sisters and I had an outing with some friends to the Renaissance Festival. Something we make sure to hit once a year, but each year I get less excited. This year, we had a good time, but I think I have officially ended my relationship with the Tortuga Twins. They suck. Allow me to give you their basic plot: take 20 minutes to tell everyone how funny their show is. How it is crazy and not for kids. Insert quasi-gay guy jokes. Then they pick people from the audience- a girl with big boobs... and then, a couple other people who matter less because they don't have big boobs. They then use these people to tell a classic story, like Little Red Riding Hood. That story is actually only 12 sentences long, but takes 20 minutes to tell, because they need to tell a few more gay jokes and then oogle the boobies to prove they only joke about being gay. After 16 years at the AZ Ren Fest, you think they would come up with some better material. Over it. We actually left their show to see London Broil. More about them in a minute.
Here they are. I stole this from photobucket. Don't be confused- there are three, but they are twins. It is part of the schtick.
A group much cooler is the London Broil. They juggle. AND are funny. AND I have a crush on Duncan, and today we made a connection, and if I could deal with living in an RV, we would be on the way to Vegas to get married. I took some really cool video, of them juggling, and juggling chairs, and juggling and shifting and juggling and dancing with FIRE. But, because I am an idiot, and I have a new phone, I deleted them when I thought I was saving them. Crap. Oh well. Here is a picture my sister took on the school trip.
Here they are, juggling with fire. Because they are fucking rad. And Duncan would be the one in the red and blue.
London Broil was the highlight of the day, followed by the white and milk chocolate covered strawberries. :) Otherwise, it is a bunch of dirty hippies.
So, those who know me know that I am extremely competitive. Not only am I competitive in games, etc, but I compete with myself as well. For example- I have to carry ALL my grocery bags in from the car in ONE trip.
Today, on the freeway, I saw a guy with a personalized plate of "LUV2WIN." Or something like that. I got my phone to take a picture, and then this piece of shit 90's convertible cut me off. Bastard. The point- I am not as competitive as that guy.. maybe.
One guy that I can say with most certainty is (was) more competitive than me is this guy. Sergey Tuganov. This crazy Russian was bet $3400 that he could not satisfy two ladies with a half day sex marathon. After downing a full bottle of Viagra, he did. He won. Aaaaaaand subsequently died of a heart attack.
I was having a rough day. So, I decided to drown my sorrows and indulge in some crappy food, as I am a certified emotional eater. Looking for something quick and easy, Caryn and I headed to our local Burger King. Upon walking in... I remembered the ANGRY WHOPPER. For those of you unaware, it is a new burger there that is supposed to be so hot, that flames shoot our of your mouth. Here is the video proof:
I ordered it, with onion rings and a diet coke. Before you judge, I like the taste of diet better, and I do like to show SOME moderation. Anyhow. I sat down, practically drooling as I looked at the pepper jack cheese, jalapenos and "secret spicy sauce." Gotta tell ya - it wasn't really spicy. Like, not even Pace medium salsa spicy. Granted, I grew up in the A.B.Q., but I was disappointed. On the upside, the incredibly pleasant cashier at the home of the (not-so-spicy) Whopper gave me dipping sauce for my onion rings... ahhhhhh yeaaaaaaaaah. It tasted like the blooming onion dip, and I am sure that I will now have a block of cellulite on my upper left thigh to prove that I enjoyed it. Oh well, I am in a better mood now.
OH! So- I just found out that there is an "ANGRY GRAM" website... apparently "the perfect way to tell someone they annoy the hell out of you." Rad. Please don't send me hate mail.
I am becoming more like my father every day. I just don't really have the time/desire to listen to rambling stories. Even though I ramble myself.... Well, at least my stories are interesting. ;) Here are a few times that I can tell you, with about 95% certainty, that I am NOT listening:
- I walk into your office with a strict purpose, and you chose to discuss something totally unrelated, at length.
- Your story fails to get to a point... OR you have a point, but tell the story in such a monotonous way, that I can't tell when you are getting to the end of it... so that I can pretend like I was listening.
- If I have heard this story before.
- If I am watching television.
- If I am on facebook.
- If I am changing lanes on the freeway.
- If you have called, and I answer (knowing that sending you to voice mail is not an option)- immediately telling you that I am making dinner, in the bathroom, etc - and you chose to spend more than your allotted 45 seconds to tell me why you are calling.
- If I know that I will never be held accountable for remembering it.
- If I know that I am going to hear it again... either by just merely being present when you are telling someone else, or you forgetting you told me in the first place.
So, I am kind of a jerk like that. I don't find it irrational though, to ask of you to speak briefly, or at the very least, make it interesting. As someone who has a tendency to ramble, I have learned to "know my audience." I ask you to do the same.
So, a few months ago, I created this account. The idea was to have it kinda work like a diary... and just bitch about all kinds of stuff. Well. Not only did I NOT really ever get on here to bitch... but I realized that I really do like to amuse people with my ramblings, and it is a lot harder to have random strangers on the internet pay attention to me than I thought. So, friends, and fellow blog friends, feel free to read. And comment. And teach me how to have a cooler blog.
Someone once called me adorably eccentric, and I think it fits. While I am slightly crazy (not certifiable or anything), I am still quite a lovable person.
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