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Showing posts with label vendable dick. Show all posts
Showing posts with label vendable dick. Show all posts
Wednesday, October 7, 2020
Thursday, August 20, 2020
Monday, December 26, 2011
Monday, June 13, 2011
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
Thursday, August 20, 2009
A Missed Opportunity
Down the street from the office on 3rd Avenue, Tom & I noticed a street vendor's handmade sign with a pretty spectacular typo.
Despite the misspelling, there is always a long line of people ordering food from that vendor. Tom & I had planned to bring a magic marker one day and correct the sign on video but have been too busy to break away for the last two weeks.
We had even started working out a system to distract the guys working there while writing in the "I" and filming it. But when we finally got around to doing the thing, the vendors had gone to Kinko's to have signs made. Mother pisser.
And only later did I realize that they had written "4:50" on the old sign.
Despite the misspelling, there is always a long line of people ordering food from that vendor. Tom & I had planned to bring a magic marker one day and correct the sign on video but have been too busy to break away for the last two weeks.
We had even started working out a system to distract the guys working there while writing in the "I" and filming it. But when we finally got around to doing the thing, the vendors had gone to Kinko's to have signs made. Mother pisser.
And only later did I realize that they had written "4:50" on the old sign.
Friday, April 3, 2009
Fresh Direct Friday: Moroccan Chicken With Herbed Couscous, or Well, Whaddaya Know, They Don't All Suck After All
I was really dreading doing a fifth punishing mouthful of steaming hot microwave food today. But duty calls and I psyched myself up for more Fresh Direct. Today I chose Moroccan Chicken With Herbed Couscous from Smart & Simple and kissed my wife goodbye.
Although there was a torrential downpour outside, the kitchen had only one other person in it. It was quiet in there. Too quiet. I was tempted to get the salmon just to piss off the workers nearby.
This time, the instructions called for FOUR minutes of cooking. Why the extra time? What difference could one lousy minute make in the grand scheme of things? Better safe than sorry, I guess. I also remembered that couscous would probably require a wee bit more preparation.
As it cooked in the microwave, I noticed something new– whatever was in there was actually starting to smell GOOD. What the hell.
A disturbing 'pop' came from the microwave. I peeked in to see that the seal had broken. Did this mean it wasn't being fully cooked anymore? Should I tape it back up?
So I took it up to my desk, peeled back the wrap, and whoa:
A few pokes with a fork showed that yes, it was real food and not one of those plastic props at the front of Chinese restaurants that look remarkably real. And yes, the chicken breast was smaller than a gallstone my friend Mel once passed and showed me, but it did look tasty. No, the chicken, pervert.
The chicken proved a little too tough for a plastic fork, so I had to break out a metal one.
All the disappointment of the previous four days dissipated with the first taste. There was a medley of snap peas, white raisins and asparagus that accompanied the moist (however tough) chicken. The couscous was cooked (not al dente) and benefited from tiny scallions, thinly-sliced almonds and spices. Slices of zucchini and carrots went well with the chicken, all drenched with a light soy sauce. In short, pretty damn good.
A few minutes later, I looked down and saw another first:
Yes, my friends, this was the best dish all week. Which isn't saying much when you think about it. But it was a solid, well-seasoned meal that I would buy again if I ever had to work late and the 24-hour Old Bridge Deli were somehow closed due to tax problems and it was raining too hard to go anywhere else. So there's a ringing endorsement.
Overall rating: F
Although there was a torrential downpour outside, the kitchen had only one other person in it. It was quiet in there. Too quiet. I was tempted to get the salmon just to piss off the workers nearby.
This time, the instructions called for FOUR minutes of cooking. Why the extra time? What difference could one lousy minute make in the grand scheme of things? Better safe than sorry, I guess. I also remembered that couscous would probably require a wee bit more preparation.
As it cooked in the microwave, I noticed something new– whatever was in there was actually starting to smell GOOD. What the hell.
A disturbing 'pop' came from the microwave. I peeked in to see that the seal had broken. Did this mean it wasn't being fully cooked anymore? Should I tape it back up?
So I took it up to my desk, peeled back the wrap, and whoa:
A few pokes with a fork showed that yes, it was real food and not one of those plastic props at the front of Chinese restaurants that look remarkably real. And yes, the chicken breast was smaller than a gallstone my friend Mel once passed and showed me, but it did look tasty. No, the chicken, pervert.
The chicken proved a little too tough for a plastic fork, so I had to break out a metal one.
All the disappointment of the previous four days dissipated with the first taste. There was a medley of snap peas, white raisins and asparagus that accompanied the moist (however tough) chicken. The couscous was cooked (not al dente) and benefited from tiny scallions, thinly-sliced almonds and spices. Slices of zucchini and carrots went well with the chicken, all drenched with a light soy sauce. In short, pretty damn good.
A few minutes later, I looked down and saw another first:
Yes, my friends, this was the best dish all week. Which isn't saying much when you think about it. But it was a solid, well-seasoned meal that I would buy again if I ever had to work late and the 24-hour Old Bridge Deli were somehow closed due to tax problems and it was raining too hard to go anywhere else. So there's a ringing endorsement.
Overall rating: F
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Fresh Direct Thursday: Enchiladas With Beef Short Rib In Salsa Mestiza, or How To Make Your Tastebuds Seriously Consider Suicide
Today we decided to really take one for the team and try the Enchiladas With Beef Short Rib In Salsa Mestiza from Rosa Mexicano Kitchen. Now, this turned out to be one of the worst dishes yet. You fuckers owe me big.
The kitchen was not only busy today, but there was an actual LINE to the vending machine. I guess this either speaks to the readership of EADJ or how busy some people are in the middle of the day at Toucan Cleric's Fun.
Most of the times that I've eaten Beef Enchiladas I've either been drunk at 2am or been held hostage by banditos and that's all they had to feed me. So microwavable enchiladas are a "special" "treat."
Initially, I had trouble even getting the dish out of the machine. I guess even it knew I wouldn't like it.
There was no nutritional information on either the beef enchilada packaging or on the little sign on the vending machine. So instead, here's a photo of Sybil Danning:
Three minutes later, Ding!
I'm not really super-sensitive when it comes to the texture of food. But there was something about the morphing, gooey nature of the inside of the enchiladas that reminded me of those melting Nazi faces in Raiders of the Lost Ark. I was not looking forward to biting into that.
Now, how do I put this- My mouth was raided by spices and reluctant meat. Beef arrived to the party but decided to sulk in the corner on the sofa. Meanwhile, the spices tried to talk to everyone without sticking around to say anything important or sensible.
Meanwhile cheese showed up and changed the music to Helen Reddy and Perry Como. And then salsa rummaged through everyone's coats on the bed to look for money.
Overall rating: F
The kitchen was not only busy today, but there was an actual LINE to the vending machine. I guess this either speaks to the readership of EADJ or how busy some people are in the middle of the day at Toucan Cleric's Fun.
Most of the times that I've eaten Beef Enchiladas I've either been drunk at 2am or been held hostage by banditos and that's all they had to feed me. So microwavable enchiladas are a "special" "treat."
Initially, I had trouble even getting the dish out of the machine. I guess even it knew I wouldn't like it.
There was no nutritional information on either the beef enchilada packaging or on the little sign on the vending machine. So instead, here's a photo of Sybil Danning:
Three minutes later, Ding!
I'm not really super-sensitive when it comes to the texture of food. But there was something about the morphing, gooey nature of the inside of the enchiladas that reminded me of those melting Nazi faces in Raiders of the Lost Ark. I was not looking forward to biting into that.
Now, how do I put this- My mouth was raided by spices and reluctant meat. Beef arrived to the party but decided to sulk in the corner on the sofa. Meanwhile, the spices tried to talk to everyone without sticking around to say anything important or sensible.
Meanwhile cheese showed up and changed the music to Helen Reddy and Perry Como. And then salsa rummaged through everyone's coats on the bed to look for money.
Overall rating: F
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
Fresh Direct Wednesday: Lobster Ravioli w/Vodka Sauce & Basil, or How A Weeklong Bit Has Already Outstayed Its Welcome On the Third Day
Here on Hump Day of bad week, we decided to go back to Italian food with Fresh Direct's Lobster Ravioli w/ Vodka Sauce & Basil, courtesy of Presto Italiano.
In comparison to the previous two dishes, a simple ravioli sounds pretty straightforward. So that coupled with the fact that I enjoy eating in general got my hopes up about this one.
And instead of eating outside in the lunch plaza, I took the entrée for a little walk before sampling.
It took me more than four tries to open the package, however. I felt like Nate struggling with the most gangsta saran wrap ever. Yeah, I'm self-referential.
What I'm guessing were supposed to be basil leaves looked like melted green crayons. Or Hulk raisins. Or alligator scabs.
Okay, this one wasn't totally awful. It wasn't offensive or pungent or gag-inducing. But it was bland. Tom even sampled a bite of it and said "Ew. Mushy."
Despite its blandness, I ate the thing and chalked one up for experience. Then I bookmarked it as one to grow on and as a notch in my belt. Then I had explosive diarrhea 2 hours later. Just kidding. It was solid.
Overall rating: F
In comparison to the previous two dishes, a simple ravioli sounds pretty straightforward. So that coupled with the fact that I enjoy eating in general got my hopes up about this one.
And instead of eating outside in the lunch plaza, I took the entrée for a little walk before sampling.
It took me more than four tries to open the package, however. I felt like Nate struggling with the most gangsta saran wrap ever. Yeah, I'm self-referential.
What I'm guessing were supposed to be basil leaves looked like melted green crayons. Or Hulk raisins. Or alligator scabs.
Okay, this one wasn't totally awful. It wasn't offensive or pungent or gag-inducing. But it was bland. Tom even sampled a bite of it and said "Ew. Mushy."
Despite its blandness, I ate the thing and chalked one up for experience. Then I bookmarked it as one to grow on and as a notch in my belt. Then I had explosive diarrhea 2 hours later. Just kidding. It was solid.
Overall rating: F
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