Rant of the day: Fast Franks

I'm going to veer off topic for a moment and do the typical blog thing and rant for a minute. I went shopping for groceries today. It's no secret that I don't cook, and as such my basket is normally filled with such healthy items as frozen pizzas, ham, bread, and cheese.

Whenever I eat at home, I do so for convenience, although the monetary savings are a delightful side bonus. The only meal that I cook due to a particular desire for said meal is an old recipe handed down through the ages by my people. When I say "my people" I of course mean rednecks from Arkansas, and when I say "old recipe" I mean Kraft Macaroni and Cheese with cut up hot dogs. Occasionally, if I'm feeling a bit frisky, I'll vary the recipe and go with Spiral Macaroni instead of the traditional sort, but that's about as creative as I get in the kitchen. I'm pretty sure that Macaroni comes from the Italian word meaning quite literally "Fruit of the Gods", but that's all neither here nor there.

Back to the point. I'm sure there's one around here somewhere... ah yes, I eat at home for convenience. As lazy as I am with my lunchables, and frozen pizzas, even I'm not this lazy:



Do you see what they've done for you here? They've gone ahead and pre-assembled the hot dog for you. Just in case you've forgotten the recipe I've decided to write it down for you here:

Ingredients:
1 Wiener
1 Bun

Directions:
1. Heat Wiener
2. Insert Wiener into bun

Essentially, what they've done is save you up to 3 seconds of your time by going ahead and taking care of #2 for you.

From the press release:

By leveraging proprietary dough technology, Oscar Mayer Fast Franks have made hot dogs easier to enjoy than ever before.

Are you kidding me? "Proprietary dough technology"? Really? Really!? Come on Oscar, don't piss down my shorts and tell me it's raining.

More wonderful insight from an article titled: Oscar Mayer Unveils Innovative New Product.

Thirty-five seconds is all it takes now to prepare a hot dog.

How long were people taking before? Was this in response to a flood of letters from concerned parents that read:

Dear Oscar Meyer,

I love your delicious hot dogs, but I just wish they didn't
take so long to prepare. Is there anything you can do for
me?

Signed,
Wiener Lover in Wisconsin.

At any rate, I picked up 3 packages of them. I'll do a review later to tell you how they taste.

Be honest, how many of you laughed at the directions above due to the cheesy sexual double entendre?

NerdMory Word(s): Really

Really
- question, statement, expletive

1. As near as I can tell, this phrase has absolutely no meaning whatsoever.

[Origin: Mory has recently taken to following every statement made by someone she's conversing with with this phrase.]

-synonyms
1. Really?
2. Really!
3. Really!?!
4. Really... Really?

See also Nerd Words(s) 80's edition: No Way!

- usage
Left as an exercise to the reader

Why Erik and Jesse don't get invited to weddings anymore

Note to the reader: I normally try to keep these PG-13 or less, but as this story involves a trip to Castle Boutique, I'm not 100% sure that's possible. If you'd like to keep that pristine, angelic image of me that you have in your head, feel free to stop reading now.

As I look back, there's been a recent flurry of Ruth and Rachel stories, and I think it's time we discuss something else. Unfortunately there's not a lot else happening these days, so grab your plutonium and get the De Lorean up to 88 kids, we're going a ways back on this one.

In High School I had a "friend" named Chris. I put friend in quotes because I'm not exactly sure how I'd identify Chris. He hung out with us a lot, and we had all the same classes, but I was never sure if he really was a friend, or just someone who put up with us.

He seemed like there was a decent guy underneath somewhere, but he'd never let that guy out. He just always came across as uptight and not friendly. Don't get me wrong, that was just his shtick in high school. Mine was being the smartass. Erik was the quiet loner kid... Everyone had their thing, Chris's just happened to be being the guy who was always telling me to shut up.

A year or two after high school, a mutual friend informed me and Erik that Chris was tying the knot. His girlfriend was pregnant, and Erik and I speculated that given his strong Catholic upbringing and family, Chris's marriage was as much a decision of the family due to the pregnancy as it was of Chris and his bride to be.

Having never been to a wedding, and being completely socially unadapted, we really had no idea what to expect, but that didn't stop us from trying.

"We should get them something fun as a gift you know? Chris has always been so uptight. Let's get him something to loosen him up." Erik told me with that mischievous look in his eye.
"Yeah, like a gameboy or something. That'd be fun"
"Yeah, or something"

I soon found myself in a Castle Boutique, examining different "toys" and things for the young couple in lustlove. It wasn't long before we were comparing different fake male parts trying to decide which one was "right" for Chris.

"I guess bigger is better. Let's go for the Goliath"
"Okay, but make sure we get the black one. That just seems appropriate for Chris."

As I walked up to the counter with "Goliath" in my hands Erik came around the corner with something else.

"Here, let's get this too. It's 'Anal Probe' lube."
"I don't even know what that means. Fine, lets get out of here"

The wedding day came, and we started to get cold feet. We went in to the reception and left the "gift" in my car. While inside, we asked someone how the gifts were to be opened. While we wanted Chris to have a laugh, we didn't want him to open up a huge sex toy in front of his family and embarrass him that much. We were told that the gifts would be opened in private.

Our worries alleviated, we went out to the car to get the gifts and just as we did, Allison walked by.

Allison was Chris's cousin, and an acquaintance of Erik and mine. Erik actually had a little crush on her for a few years, but that's a story for his blog(or mine at a later date when I have nothing to write about). What is important is that she was sort of straight laced so to speak, and a very nice girl.

"Hey Allison, we were just about to leave, but we forgot to drop our present off. Would you mind taking it in for us?" I asked while handing her the wrapped prosthetic.
"Sure... there's no tag on it?"
"Oh, he'll know who it's from"

We later found out that he probably did open the presents with his family. Apparently a fake wang for a wedding is what we in the business like to refer to as a "Social Faux Pas", but we had no idea at the time. We were just trying to get him to loosen up a bit.

Unfortunately we never heard from Chris again. To be honest, I'm a little hurt that I never got a thank you card.

Nerd Word(s): I don't know what that means.

I don't know what that means
- statement

1. A statement often made after a particularly mean or crude joke to "soften" the blow.

2. Used after an obscure joke to deflect from blank stares.

3. Used to distance yourself from a friend's particularly bad joke.

Sometimes followed by, "But I do know this..." and a totally unrelated fact.

[ Origin: An Adam O Original ]

- synonyms
1. I... I don't know what that means.
2. I don't even know what that means.

- usage
"Yeah, he looked Dom DeLuise in Cannonball Run II trying to get where he was going while Burt Reynolds is off chatting up the ladies trying to get his..." pause "I don't know what that means..."

"Man that was really hard"
"That's what you mom said last night..." pause "I...I don't know what that means... But I do know this... You never hit a woman"

Nerd Word(s): We in the business

We in the business
- noun

1. An imaginary profession, or a profession of which the speaking nerd does not belong to. Often used to give authority to a subject that the speaker has no authority in.

[ Origin: Unknown. Became a staple of the Jesse B vernacular circa 1998 ]

- usage
While watching basketball - "That's what we in the business like to call a good shot"

After seeing a girl in an extremely short skirt - "That's what we in the business like to refer to as a hottie"

Delusions of Grandeur

A few weekends ago Ruth and Rachel went on a business trip to New Mexico. I dropped them off at the airport and returned to my condo, but for some reason it didn't feel like my condo anymore. It was a painful step back through the looking glass and while everything looked the same, it just wasn't. It was quiet, it was cold... it was boring.

"Two days of this? What am I going to do with myself." I thought as I stood in the center of my living room. After a bit of moping around I picked myself up and started to take care of the things that I had been putting off. Since the twins had moved in, my ability to finish my chores in a timely manner had completely disappeared.

Before she had left, Ruth had been frantically searching her room for her ID and a misplaced necklace. The necklace had some sentimental value, so it's loss seemed to hit her especially hard. That combined with the stress of the business trip had her very much on edge. I tried to help her search for the items, and tried to comfort her, but for the most part I was no help at all.

Saturday evening she called me from New Mexico to tell me that she had now lost her coach bag which contained all of her money and cards. By this time she seemed quite devastated by the happenings of her week, and almost 500 miles away I felt quite incapable of helping to fix the situation.

Sunday morning I awoke with a renewed vigor and set out for the mall with a confidence quite foreign to me. My plan was to go to Dillard's and purchase a replacement coach bag in hopes that a surprise of that nature would at least alleviate some of the stress from a horrible week. She was my pretend girlfriend, and if she was down, I was going to help.

On my way to... not just any mall, but the Scottsdale Fashion Square, I stopped by Erik's house. I informed him of my plans. After listening, he took a moment to question my bag purchasing ability which gave me pause.

I'd seen the bag before... It was small... and white... and it had some... stuff on it... How hard could it really be to replace it? "How many different small white ladies bags could there possibly be?" I thought to myself.

I dismissed his skepticism and proceeded to the mall where I was quickly reminded, I don't belong here. For the first time in my Sunday morning quest I began to doubt. I sifted through the myriad rows of purses and handbags searching, hoping for the bag that would end the torture that was this trip to the mall. After about an hour of looking, exhausted, I relented. The mall had won.

Dejected, I returned home to the emptiness that was my condo. Shortly after Ruthie called.
"Oh, someone found my purse and I got it back minus the cash"

Nerd Word(s): Pretend Girlfriend

Pretend Girlfriend
- noun

1. A girl that you date, but aren't romantic with. i.e. All of the duty, none of the booty.

[ Origin: The last two years of my life]

- usage
"Wanna do something tonight?"
"Nah, I can't I got a date with my pretend girlfriend"

"Who are you taking as your date to the wedding?"
"I don't know. I'll get one of my pretend girlfriends to go"

-see also
Ana, Anna, Ruthie, Sarah

Jesse the Sadist

Note to the reader: This entry hits on some PG-13 elements and may not be suitable for anyone.

In early January I awoke at about 3am to find Ruth standing at the foot of my bed. At first I was a bit freaked out. Once I realized it was Ruth I was a bit excited, as any guy would be to wake up and find a beautiful girl standing at the foot of his bed, but I soon realized she was in pain... and possibly crying.

The fantasy I had worked up in my head quickly faded as I tried to get my bearings and figure out what was going on. There was no visible bleeding. There were no missing limbs. I couldn't spot any broken bones. "Maybe something emotional?" I thought to myself.

Soon I remembered that she had been out the previous night with a guy. I now wondered if he had tried something devious. Normally quite the pacifist, I now found my blood pumping a bit harder.

I'm sure by this point I had quite the perplexed look on my face. As if to put the endless racing of my thoughts to rest, Ruth said, "I have a really bad headache". I had still been hoping for the 3am booty call, so, somewhat disappointed, I laid her in my bed and went to get some aspirin and water.

As I returned she told me to lay down with her, which I did. She snuggled up against me, and was quite obviously in a lot of pain. She started to slowly writhe in pain... It was at this moment that I remembered that I still had the standard issue set of Jesse pajamas on. These consist of a pair of boxers and a T-Shirt. I quickly hopped out of bed and put pants on before it became obvious to her.

After a brief, internal argument with myself discussing which part of hell I was going to for finding anything pleasurable in her headache, I finally crawled back in to bed. Eventually her pain subsided and she fell asleep.