TOMmentary

untitled - April 19th, 2007

SQUARE IS GOOD:
When you open your fridge and see a chinese food container, you immediately feel all warm and tingly - for you know that inside that red pagoda branded piece of folded paper lies chinese-foody goodness.


When I see one of those chinese food containers that are square at the top but round at the bottom, I am filled (moderately) with rage. It could have szechuan fried cash inside and I would still be filled (again, moderately) with rage. Perhaps my brain is too simple to process the whole square/circle thing, but then again, perhaps not. I think I just don't like it, and like sexual harassment, I don't have to take it.


SHAKE AND BAKE
Last weekend, my Father reminded me that a strong handshake is a fantastic way for a prospective employer to figure out that not only are you an amazing employee, but that you alone will increase that employer's revenue somewhere in the range of 15 to 17% in the first quarter. One lengthy car trip later, I had surmised that while, fundamentally, my Father's sentiment is correct, it really doesn't apply in today's world.

You see, all important people - that is to say, those whose hands must be shaken - suck at shaking hands.

Thats right, they do. When you need to really grit your teeth and get all in there for that skin-between-thumb-and-index-finger-area on skin-between-thumb-and-index-finger-area action, that other person (nameless) will always screw you up. You know what I'm talking about: the other person (still nameless) squeezes your hand too soon, and ends up crimping your knuckles painfully and you're left to awkardly smile through it.


Perhaps in Darrin Stephens' time (the uber-talented Dick York, of course) when handshakes with he and Larry Tate actually meant something, people would get the handshake right. After all, business relied on those handshakes. It was as commonplace as saying goodbye at the end of a phonecall, or the obligatory restraining order after stalking someone. Sadly, in modern times, our age of frozen yogurt, cheese-in-crust pizza, and t-mobile sidekick III's, the proper handshake has not been reinforced into minds anywhere. We are left to suffer through the insufferable. We are doomed to get important handshakes wrong, because the other person is a complete idiot.

The DEEPER QUESTION here: How on earth did those bad handshakers get where they are today, if it was a strong handshake they needed to start it all?

Hmmmmmmm.



CHEESE-TASTROPHE:
(Ha. I could write nothing here, and I still think it would be funny)

Picture this:

Its a Tuesday. You're staying home from work. Your favorite number was in the lottery last night. You're hungry, and you just happen to have some of the major components to a kick-ass sandwich in your fridge. Life is good.


You grab the fresh loaf of bread and cut two monster slices. You delicately procure three slices of tomato. You drink a gallon of mayonnaise for good measure. You open your baconator (an invention of yours that you couldnt sell to Ron Popeil - it transforms water into slices of crisp bacon. If the water is extra hot, you get extra crispy bacon.) and take out some amazingly scent-sational (ha) bacon. You rip some lettuce off of your lettuce ball, before rolling it back into the fridge. You sheet smoked turkey in thick layers onto the bread.

Finally you reach for some white american (not racist) cheese to top it all off. You delicately pull at and lift the first slice - it rips and you find yourself holding a tiny corner of cheese. Not to worry, there is a half a pound left. You try again - the same result. Again - the same result.

Twenty five minutes later, your apartment is cluttered with inch long triangles of cheese corners. Your sandwich is soggy from tomato, your stomach is sick from drinking an ungodly amount of mayo, and for some reason, you cant stop thinking of George Plimpton.



I really wish that American cheese wouldn't shred the way it does. It tastes great, but the struggle that is extracting American cheese from the stack makes it damn close to not worth it.

In my opinion, American cheese that shreds should be renamed communist cheese. Or French cheese. Either way, you get my point.

GIVE UP, YOU'RE NOT PRETTY ENOUGH:
Yeah, so you know that song by Stephen Stills (or the Isley Brothers) 'Love the One You're With'? Lets think about it for a moment.

"And if you can't be with the one you love, honey, love the one you're with."

Translation: "If you can't date your dream person, just give up on your dreams and settle...date me instead."


People really need to start listening to the songs they sing. For some reason, people love this song. They love it love it. They love it like, for some reason, that fat old dude luuuuurves Celine Dion. If those people (and Rene Angelil) actually gave it a second thought, they wouldn't.

the end

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Labels: awesome, cheese, chinese food, country music sucks, dick york, goodness, handshakes, sandwich, sexual harassment, ugly

posted by juniorthomas @ 11:46 AM