Hairscrimination

I love how people spend lots of time and money to entertain themselves.


Trips to exotic locals.  Expensive dinners.  Extravagant parties.


Nope, not me.  It doesn't take much.  Time with the family (aw, tender).  A bike ride, of any duration, at any time, in any weather, on any bike (Unicycle with a flat tire at midnight on New Year's Eve in an ice storm?  Perfect!).  Even something as utterly simple as a haircut can make my day... okay week.


Well, no, not any haircut, I don't have some weird fetish or something.  No, I just really like having a mohawk.  It makes me happy, looking slightly ridiculous.  No, not happy.  Stupidly happy, deliriously happy, retardedly happy.   Seriously, just look:


Me without a mohawk:

Meh

Me with a mohawk:

Awesome Sauce

Fine, yes, I'm goofy looking either way, but by god I'm happy about it.


You know what they say about simple minds and simple pleasures, and I'm not sure it gets a whole lot simpler than a haircut.  Oh, wait, yes.  Doorstops.  You know, these things:

Yeah, my daughter is mildly entertained by them.  You know, because you can flick them and they go "boing-oing-oing-oing."  But then, she is only 8 months old.  But me?  Yeah, I love those things.  I've found myself standing in our bathroom, flicking it with my toe and giggling to myself.  Hmmm, that sounded kind of dirty.  Well, a little dirty, but mainly dumb and pathetic.  But seriously?  Boing-oing-oing-oing.  Hehehe.


Moving on.  So why do I devise so much pleasure from a hairstyle?  I'm not quite sure.  Most likely because I am a bit of an idiot, and it's nice having a quick and simple way to show that to the rest of the world without having to speak or wear a slogan t-shirt (You know how hard it is to find a "Tapout" or "Affliction" t-shirt?  Sadly, not hard at all.  I think I just got one free with my last fill up.)


But, unfortunately, my love of doorstops isn't the only thing my daughter inherited from her father...

Happy Thanksgiving

From all of us here at Tulibo Heavy Industries, manufacturers of the finest in industrial cleaners, caustic chemicals, and pointless blogs since 2010, to you, dear reader, thank you and have a wonderful Thanksgiving.  To our readers outside the U.S., well, happy Thursday.  Finally, to our industrial cleaners and caustic chemicals customers, regular shipments will resume Monday, November 29, and don't forget to try our newest product; Leftover-B-Gone concentrated liquefaction solvent, guaranteed to liquify pumpkin pie, corn on the cob, and even an entire turkey to a loose gel in 15 minutes or less, just in time for the holidays!

Your Votes Have Been Counted and Discarded

Yes, to all who participated in the Great Kiki Halloween Costume Vote of 2010, I thank you, my wife thanks you, even Kiki thanks you.  Well, she says phhbbbblhh, but she means thank you.  However, I regret to inform you that your votes, though tallied by the third most exclusive accounting firm in Hollywood (they do the counts for the People's Choice Awards!), were for nought.  No, my darling child was not a monkey.  She wasn't a flower or sushi.  She wasn't even a aviator/owl mashup.  Nope, she was Goku.


Thank you for your vote nonetheless.












What, oh, you're still here.  What's that?  Oh, you don't know what the fuck a Goku is?  It's a character from Dragon Ball, a Japanese anime.  Or, more succinctly, it's this:

And Kiki's version:

Illustrating the five-finger death touch technique

Eating her Dragon Ball.

But we got so many people saying, "What's a Goku?" "She's going to be a dragon?" and "Isn't Japanese anime all weird tentacle sex stuff?" that we decided to have a backup, more accessible and generally less odd costume.  Minnie Mouse.  Well, Minnie in an outfit a lot like her normal outfit, but not sanctioned by the Disney Corporation and Global Domination Task Force.

You may notice that she is flipping the bird, as if to say, "Fuck you bastards, I should have been Goku.  I learned the five-finger death touch technique for this bullshit?  Come closer, let me touch you!"

Carboloading for Breakfast

Hope you've heard the good news, Burger King has added the Whopper to their breakfast menu!


Yes, no longer do you have to buy a Whopper on your way home and leave it in the car in order to have one for breakfast!  Now, don't tell me I was the only one who did that!


I've heard lots of "Whoppers for breakfast, that's gross, disgusting, and borderline insane."  Mainly from my wife.  But how else am I supposed to efficiently surpass the daily recommended allowance of, well, everything except vegetables, by at least 1,400%?  


Have it my way?  Hell yes, Mr. King, er, I mean your Highness.  I would like this please:

Unfortunately, BK didn't plan on someone creating a sandwich of these proportions (how is that possible?), so it cut off some of it.  Well, most of it, really. Here's quick rundown:

Meat:

20 burger patties, 20 chicken patties, 5 veggies patties, and 5 fish filets.  

Condiments:

Tartar Sauce, Ketchup, Mayonnaise, "Stacker" Sauce, Mustard, and A1

Toppings: 

Double lettuce, tomato, onion, pickle, and crispy onions, 8 slices of cheese, and 10 slices of bacon.

For a total of:

885 grams of fat

290 grams of saturated fat

3020 mg of cholesterol

34,830 mg of sodium

and 13,880 calories

Served with a large fries and shake, it takes the total to 15,380 calories and 935 grams of fat.  Delicious!

Face it, before they started offering the Whopper for breakfast, the best you could do was this:

http://www.bk.com/en/us/menu-nutrition/index.html?mymeal=201011158a888089744849fa8e5c1725d6b0b2d6

A mere 2,160 calories, 149 grams of fat, and a measly 6,740 mg of sodium?  Pathetic.

Japan Tales - Arrival

Ah, Japan, you tempting seductress, with your panty vending machines and toilets more intelligent than the average 8th grader.  Yes, I just returned from a trip to Osaka to visit my in-laws.  I have been a few times before and have become somewhat accustomed to some of the peculiarities of the nation, but there are still new surprises for me every time.


This trip, it didn't take long to notice something a bit different.  While sitting in Tokyo awaiting my connecting flight, they began pre-boarding the flight.  Now, I know the drill; children, handicapped, those who need more time, I got it.  However, they seem to include a few more groups I am not as familiar with.  Unfortunately, I could not understand the announcements, and when this graphic appeared on the screens in the gate area it didn't exactly clarify things:

Now, some of these I do understand.  Top left, Japan Airlines logo, got it.  Bottom left, pregnant ladies, fair enough.  Top center, wheelchair bound passengers, with you still.  Bottom center, infants, okay as well.  Now, top right, apparently they feel the need to clarify that children in hats, and not just those in bibs, are also welcome to board early?  Or maybe bodyless children (could be a bigger problem in the far east)?  And then bottom right, I'm totally clueless.  Men in hats?  Mustachioed men?  Or maybe the two on the right are indicating that decapitated children and adults are welcome to preboard?  I'm not sure, all I know is I went to the bathroom, drew on a mustache, fashioned a hat out of paper towels, and got on the fucking plane.  Hey, I don't want those decapitated children filling up all the overhead compartments with their robot bodies.  

Roommate

Alright, today I will ask you to use your imagination.  Yes, close your eyes and... wait, you can't read this with your eyes closed.  Okay, read the post, memorize it, then close your eyes and tell it back to yourself.  Hmmm, yeah, that does sound like a lot of work for what is, let's face it, a minor entertainment at best.  Okay, fine, just read it and pretend you're imagining what I describe, and hopefully we will achieve minor entertainment.

It's your first day of college.  You move in with your new roommate.  She seems quite pleasant, very smiley and generally a happy, easy going sort.  But then you go to sleep, and at first, all is well.  But then, after about 5 hours of sleep, she wakes up screaming, yelling, and crying.  Not knowing what to do, you get her a glass of milk and she quickly calms down and goes to sleep.  However, every 2-3 hours for the rest of the night, she repeats this bizarre ritual, awakening unhappy, bawling, and yelling, only placated by a drink, after which she quickly returns to sleep.  The next morning, frazzled, exhausted, and more than a bit disturbed, you quickly find the college's housing office and demand a reassignment, since your roommate is obviously unwell, slightly disturbed, and possibly psychotic.  

The End.

What was the point of my little tale?  Well, only this.  That roommate, yes, she's my daughter.  And I have submitted a complaint to the housing authority about her nighttime behavior.  And by housing authority, I mean my wife.  It took a while, but I finally received a response.  I was informed that I was a jackass, and was being reassigned to the couch.  

Japan Tales - Sushi

Finally, on my fourth trip to Japan, I convinced my wife to take me to a true sushi restaurant.  See, my darling wife doesn't eat raw fish.  So she is understandably less-than-thrilled to take me to a hardcore sushi restaurant in Japan, where, except for the eel (because it's blood is poisonous... neat!), the idea of cooking the fish is rather sacrilegious.  It may also be that she doesn't want to have to sit next to me while I eat all the fish in the restaurant.  For the sake of brevity, here's basically what I ate:

But of all the sushi I had, there was one piece that really stood out from the rest.  Or should I say swam.  Yes, "dancing sushi", a piece of shrimp so fresh it was still moving on the plate... and when you bit into it the tail fins curled around your lip.  Here is the aftermath:

As for the before, I didn't want to offend the chef by taking a photo while my food was slowly dying so I did not get a shot of it, but it basically looked like this:

Well, minus the doorman outfit.  You've got to go to a really fancy restaurant to have them dress up the fish before serving them.  

Now I know, some of you think this is disturbing, or cruel, or gross... maybe all three.  And I don't know that I can defend myself, but all I can say is that it was delicious, and it could have been worse.  I could have been eating this:

Yep, spam sushi.  Spushi?