So my recipe for cake is as follows.
- Buy cake
- Bake cake
- Make sure to make the cake tastes good
- Give me cake
- Go away
- Make another cake
Friday, August 23, 2013
How To Make A Cake
Until I learn how to cook, I'm at the mercy of other people being able to make a cake that tastes as good as the cakes my mom used to bake. I used to think that nostalgia played a big part in the slices of heaven I used to eat after my mom baked up the dessert, but it wasn't nostalgia at all. It was Duncan Hines and his girlfriend Betty Crocker, both of whom had fantastically tasty om-noms for me to eat.
Friday, March 1, 2013
Morning Road
You know how when you're driving on your way to anywhere and you become annoyed with other drivers because you wonder how they got a license driving they way they do? Usually you can shrug it off and just assume that they traded sexual favors for driving privileges. It gets us through life. Personally, I did not have to do that because firstly, I have yet to see an alluring DMV employee. Secondly, I have yet to see an alluring DMV employee. Lastly, I already have a license so I'm not subject to sextortion.
Anyway, I'm always interested in what the thoughts are of roadtards. For instance, the people who drive like there is a first place in traffic. Its rush hour, you're in 1-billionth place and somehow if you drive fast enough and weave through enough vehicles you'll somehow end up in front with zero cars to contend with for that first place parking spot next to the disabled spot, the executive spots and next to the motorcycle that's been parked in the first available spot next to the rockstar spots since mid-autumn. Also, congrats on that 30 seconds you shaved off your commute. Otherwise you'd have been an hour and thirty seconds late instead of just an hour. Whew! Alarm clocks are for pussies. So are turn-signal lights.
We've all seen this driver. This driver is the one who - while you maintain a non-crash distance from the car in front of you - decides that the space between your car and the car ahead of you is meant for squeezing into. Not only that, this driver likes to add a touch of ass to their actions by actually going under the speed limit and slowing you down once they're in front of you. All this after racing up 20 over the speed limit just to nab that sweet space in the left lane without so much as even taking time to flip you the bird just to let you know they're gonna go for it. Even in cases where traffic is gridlocked and there may be three inches of separation, these drivers believe that those inches are an invitation nudge in there, even if the tail-end of their vehicle is still in the lane they're trying to exit, thus slowing traffic even further. If you try to make eye-contact in attempt to non-verbally call them on their ridiculousness, they turn into statues. They don't move and their line of sight becomes exclusively forward. Oh, and they don't blink during this phase of douchery. I see and experience this literally every single day I'm in traffic.
What drivers like this fail to realize is that there is no first place. Unless you invented the automobile and drove it from point A to point B, then you've already lost. Unless you're the guy who actually paved a brand new road, then drove on it from start to finish, you've already lost. Unless you're the first guy to ever have won a NASCAR event, you've already lost. Unless you can piss further than... You get my point. There is no win in traffic. The most ironic thing is that the actions these wheelfucks take to try and speed their commute actually slows traffic down when the combined actions of the rest of their tribe takes effect. Under ideal circumstances, without interrupting lane and speed changes because of aggressively offensive drivers; everyone, and I mean everyone would have a much faster commute.
The other end of the spectrum is "minimum speed guy." I'm sure it would be as boring to read about this driver as it would be to... zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz - *snort*. Sorry I fell asleep thinking about it.
Anyway, I'm always interested in what the thoughts are of roadtards. For instance, the people who drive like there is a first place in traffic. Its rush hour, you're in 1-billionth place and somehow if you drive fast enough and weave through enough vehicles you'll somehow end up in front with zero cars to contend with for that first place parking spot next to the disabled spot, the executive spots and next to the motorcycle that's been parked in the first available spot next to the rockstar spots since mid-autumn. Also, congrats on that 30 seconds you shaved off your commute. Otherwise you'd have been an hour and thirty seconds late instead of just an hour. Whew! Alarm clocks are for pussies. So are turn-signal lights.
We've all seen this driver. This driver is the one who - while you maintain a non-crash distance from the car in front of you - decides that the space between your car and the car ahead of you is meant for squeezing into. Not only that, this driver likes to add a touch of ass to their actions by actually going under the speed limit and slowing you down once they're in front of you. All this after racing up 20 over the speed limit just to nab that sweet space in the left lane without so much as even taking time to flip you the bird just to let you know they're gonna go for it. Even in cases where traffic is gridlocked and there may be three inches of separation, these drivers believe that those inches are an invitation nudge in there, even if the tail-end of their vehicle is still in the lane they're trying to exit, thus slowing traffic even further. If you try to make eye-contact in attempt to non-verbally call them on their ridiculousness, they turn into statues. They don't move and their line of sight becomes exclusively forward. Oh, and they don't blink during this phase of douchery. I see and experience this literally every single day I'm in traffic.
What drivers like this fail to realize is that there is no first place. Unless you invented the automobile and drove it from point A to point B, then you've already lost. Unless you're the guy who actually paved a brand new road, then drove on it from start to finish, you've already lost. Unless you're the first guy to ever have won a NASCAR event, you've already lost. Unless you can piss further than... You get my point. There is no win in traffic. The most ironic thing is that the actions these wheelfucks take to try and speed their commute actually slows traffic down when the combined actions of the rest of their tribe takes effect. Under ideal circumstances, without interrupting lane and speed changes because of aggressively offensive drivers; everyone, and I mean everyone would have a much faster commute.
The other end of the spectrum is "minimum speed guy." I'm sure it would be as boring to read about this driver as it would be to... zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz - *snort*. Sorry I fell asleep thinking about it.
Tuesday, February 26, 2013
So, I'm basically going to use this blog as a platform to rant - good or bad - about pretty much anything I happen to think of that actually happened that one time when it happened.
Remember that time that one asshole did that one thing that made you kind of angry or made you think, "What a fucking asshole?" Or remember that time you were driving to or from work or the gym or or wherever it is that you go because your life is so awesome, and that traffic-tard did that thing that made you want to rage crash into their vehicle? Yeah, me too.
Better still remember that funny thing that happened to someone else that made you laugh into a sweat and tears, but had it happened to you you'd want to hari kari? Good times. Anyway, so shit happens, I observe, remember and experience emotions of all kinds behind them. This blog is that.
Remember that time that one asshole did that one thing that made you kind of angry or made you think, "What a fucking asshole?" Or remember that time you were driving to or from work or the gym or or wherever it is that you go because your life is so awesome, and that traffic-tard did that thing that made you want to rage crash into their vehicle? Yeah, me too.
Better still remember that funny thing that happened to someone else that made you laugh into a sweat and tears, but had it happened to you you'd want to hari kari? Good times. Anyway, so shit happens, I observe, remember and experience emotions of all kinds behind them. This blog is that.
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