- Watching football last weekend, they kept playing this McDonald’s commercial talking about how great the Egg McMuffin is. If you haven’t seen it, the gist was people saying “it’s the Egg McMuffin of cars” or “the Egg McMuffin of beach days”, the same way you’d say “it’s the Cadillac of hemorrhoid creams” or “the Rolls-Royce of body hair trimmers”. But here’s what I don’t get, if the Egg McMuffin is so great, why is my favorite breakfast item called a Sausage McMuffin with Egg? Shouldn’t it be an Egg McMuffin with Sausage? If not, then why is a regular Egg McMuffin not an Egg McMuffin with Canadian Bacon? Are we supposed to assume Canadian Bacon is implied in our breakfast foods? Seems a bit odd, given that this is America, if anything, regular Bacon should be implied. On a semi-related note, if you really want to piss off a Canadian, offer them some Canadian Bacon. 9 times out of 10, they will respond by angrily yelling “We just call it ham!”. High comedy.
- Do you ever get cut off in rush hour traffic by some idiot who thinks he’s going to weave his way out of ever having to stop? When that happens, do you ever root for the traffic in front of you to grind to a halt, adding to your own commute, but screwing over the self-important a-hole in front of you in the process? I do, in fact I also hope the lane next to us that he just merged out of starts flying along at the same time. Sure, I’m not getting where I’m going, but at least I get the enjoyment of thinking “well what do you know jackass, you’re no more important than the rest of us, now stop treating this freeway like an Olympic slalom course and eventually we’ll all get where we’re going”. You might think that’s dumb, but remember, a Pyrrhic victory is still a victory.
- A couple weeks ago, I was in the passenger seat of a car, driving back from an out-of-town hockey game, when the window next to me spontaneously shattered. There was no warning or explanation for this, it just shattered and fell into my lap as we were driving along the interstate. Sounded like a gunshot and scared the heck out of me, but beyond that there was no harm done. We jury rigged a solution, drove the last couple hours home, and now it’s just an amusing anecdote. It did however bring to mind a previous traumatic experience in an automobile, when I was driving and got stung just below the eye by a bee who flew through the window. That hurt like hell, had to pull over for a few minutes and collect my wits. Obviously that bee had some sort of personal vendetta, or was an insect assassin. I bring this up because I can’t decide which is the better pun, should it be referred to a Kamikaz-bee or a Bee-had?
- Who came up with the octagon for MMA fights? Was the thought process as simple as “we’ll market it as twice as good as boxing” or was it more nuanced? I like to picture it as being a sort of roundtable discussion:
“Gotcha boss, how about a circle? Like that classic Roman fighting pit sort of look?”
“Circles have been done to death Johnson, and how is an announcer going to sound saying it? This is their first time meeting in the circle? Sounds like the neighborhood kids getting together for a game of hide-n-seek”
“Good point as always sir. Pentagon is already taken, what about a hexagon?”
“Hexagon? Are you ----ing nuts? Who the hell is going to take us seriously with a hexagon???”
“Sorry, don’t know what I was thinking there.”
“You could be onto something though with the extra sides, how about an octagon? Step inside the octagon, I like that, take it to the focus groups and see how it tests”
“Excellent call sir, should we throw decagon in there to get a comparison as well”
“Don’t ever try to one-up me again Johnson”
- Cheez-Its are my favorite snack food, and my favorite Cheez-It is the slightly burnt one. They have roughly 73 different varieties of Cheez-Its available now, which begs the question: Why can’t I get a whole box of slighty burnt Cheez-Its?
- Last week, the punt returner for the San Francisco Forty-Niners dropped a couple of punts and began receiving death threats on Twitter. Later on, a guy who had posted one of these classy remarks claimed his account had been hacked. This got me thinking, how far away are we from someone threatening the life of the President on Twitter, then claiming they were hacked once the Secret Service shows up at their door? Has this already happened? I want details if it does, if only to hold the moron responsible up to scorn and ridicule. The lesson, as always, the internet is the death knell of civility.
- I like to imagine really good quarterbacks as being total jerks, even if they aren’t. It just makes watching football more fun for me to think that after some rookie drops a pass and jogs back to the huddle, Tom Brady turns to Wes Welker and says “Wes, please inform wide receiver #5 that one more play like that is going to land him back in the paint department at Home Depot. Also let him know that I will be addressing him as wide receiver #5 until he gives me a compelling reason to learn his actual name.” I dunno why, thinking about it just makes me chuckle.
- The other day at the grocery store, I witnessed someone returning produce. This seemed like the height of stupid customer behavior to me, taking the time to return a 79 cent cucumber that did not meet your rigorous quality standards. Sure we’ve all been burned by the avocado with the “Ready to Eat” sticker that was about a week away from actual ripeness, but it’s hard to fathom being compelled enough to return to the store for reparations. In addition, the situation I saw appeared to be an actual refund, not a simple exchange for a new cucumber. It was enough to make me consider walking over and clarifying the situation. Did the offended party stop liking cucumbers since the purchase was made? Did they simply change dinner plans? Or was it that they no longer trusted the stock in the produce department or that particular store? A tougher issue, what if you’d never had some type of fruit, say a pomegranate, purchased one to try it and discovered it wasn’t to your taste? Is the store obligated to accept an perfectly sound item that you rolled the dice on liking, just because it doesn’t agree with your palate? Caveat emptor, I say, but then I’ve never been a very discerning consumer.
Happy Friday
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