Friday Fears for the Gallbladder's Safety

KFC Declares War on Your Gastrointestinal Tract. And their secret weapon? This monstrous beast of a "sandwich" called the 'Double Down.'


I know the idea of shoving something so eloquently named down your throat is almost too appealing to pass up, but hold on for just a moment while we explore the contents of aforementioned "sandwich"

The KFC Double Down sandwich is going to consist of two slices of bacon, a slice
of pepper jack cheese, a slice of Swiss cheese, and some of the Colonel's secret
sauce. Serving as the bun on both ends of the sandwich will be two filets of KFC
original recipe chicken.*

Yes, my friends. Fried chicken in place of bread. Now you understand why I've been putting "sandwich" in quotation marks, yes?


Wanna see it?


Image courtesy of foodgeekery.com, who was brave (fool hearty) enough to try it.


The sandwich is on sale at test stores in Nebraska and Rhode Island - yes, you now have a reason to visit Rhode Island - and is supposedly delicious. Which, of course, is no surprise given that it consists of fat dredged in fat and slapped in between deep fat fried fat fatty fat.


I'm no culinary elitist - yes, I've been known to cuddle up next to a box of microwavable White Castle cheeseburgers from time to time - but even I have to draw the line somewhere.


*This quote came from Associated Content. I went back to the article to link and found that the "content was unavailable." The Colonel must have eyes and ears everywhere.


Suspicious, no?


Speaking of Gruesome Acts Against Humanity check out the new Tarantino move "Inglourious Basterds." Maybe not the most historically accurate movie - definitely not the most historically accurate movie - but certainly worth the price of admission. Provided, of course, you don't mind watching Nazis get scalped.


What else?


Our Sketch Show - we're holding auditions next week. For you actor types, come check us out. For you non-actor types, the show is coming up in a couple of months. Come see it. Now go enjoy your Friday.

OMG SKETCH AUDITIONS?! WHAAA...???

"Robot vs. Dinosaur is NOW CASTING its latest scripted sketch comedy revue.

AUDITION TIME:
Tuesday, September 1, 2009 (7 to 9 p.m.) or
Wednesday, September 2, 2009 (7 to 10 p.m.)
Callbacks will be held on Thursday, September 3 from 6 to 9 p.m.

One hour slots available at 7 and 8 p.m. on 9/1 or 7, 8, and 9 p.m. on 9/2

The audition will be cold readings from the script with some improv.
Auditions will be held at THE SECOND CITY TRAINING CENTER
(check in at 4TH Floor Lobby)

PERFORMANCES:
Performances will be at the Gorilla Tango Theatre, Fridays and Saturdays at 8 p.m., October 16 through November 21, 2009
(Important Dates: You must be available for all performances to audition. Any other schedule conflicts are negotiable.)

CASTING:
Looking for a variety of MALES and FEMALES and PUPPETEERS. It will be a fun time and a great opportunity for all levels of experience.

SIGN UP:
To sign up for a time slot, please email Chris Othic at crothic at yahoo.com or call/text 773-314-3582 and leave a message with your name, phone number, email address and preferred time slot. Chris will contact you to confirm your slot.

Please bring headshots and resumes (if you have them) to the audition, as well as your availability for rehearsals from 9/1/2009 through 10/16/2009.

We hope to see you at the audition!"

Hooray Auditions! Hooray!

"The Secret to Writing..."

...is rewriting.

The secret to rewriting is grabbing a sandwich and then spending your lunch break at your desk while you type away at your old scripts.

Hence, my lunch break today.

You Can't Just Change Your Headlines!

Tricky, Detroit Free Press. Very tricky.

Yesterday I was browsing the Interwebs and came across a headline on the aforementioned Freep: "Slain Sex Offender Jailed for Molesting His Grandson."

I squealed with delight! Not at the prospects of someone molesting their grandson because that is wrong and inexcusable BUT at the illogical story implied in the headline.

Someone put a dead guy in jail? Was he dead when he was molesting? During the trial? Did they call the corpse to the witness stand?

Yeah okay; morbid and not exactly the most hilarious thing ever, but I figured I could milk it for a blog post at the very least.

I saved the URL figuring I would circle back around today for a little fun at the expense of the Free Press' headline writers.

So imagine my shock, indignation and disappointment when I clicked on the link to find that the headline had changed to infinitely more plausible "Slain Man Had Molested Grandson"!

Nooo!

How am I supposed to poke fun at these people if they can just correct their mistakes?

For those of you wondering if I made it all up, if that headline had never actually existed, you can see the remnants in the URL itself: http://freep.com/article/20090824/NEWS03/90824068/1318/Slain-sex-offender-jailed-for-molesting-grandson.

Proof, Free Press. Proof.

Also, condolences to the family.

Ahem.

PROOF!!

An Idiot's Perspective on Universal Healthcare

The below is crossposted to the Robo-blog.

This weekend, I was flipping through channels on the TV looking for reruns of American Gladiators - the old ones from the 80's that rocked not the new ones - when I accidentally stopped on the news. I try not to watch the news because it's SO BORING but this time when I stopped there were all these people shouting at people in suits and I thought hey, that's kind of like me! I want to shout at people in suits too!

Why are all these people shouting at people in suits, I asked myself. And then the TV told me it was because of Universal Health Care.

Universal Health Care, what's that? I don't know.

So I call my mom, which is something else I try not to do because it's SO BORING and asked her what was Universal Health Care. And then she talked a lot and I don't listen sometimes because it's SO BORING but when she said Health Care is that you go to the doctor. And then Universe means everybody (which I thought was kind of dumb because Universe is all the stars and shit, but she said there were two meanings. Whatever.)

And then I put together the two words and I said "Holy shit, everybody goes to the doctor!" And mom said not to swear but it is too late so I hung up the phone.

And now I'm mad too. Because I hate going to the doctor!

And now, Obama wants to make us all go to the doctor! That's not right.

I don't go to the doctor much. I have health esurance from work but I didn't ask what it was when they gave it to me because I didn't want them to not hire me so I said thank you and now I don't use it.

But every time I did go to the doctor when I was little they poke this, and stick and needle in that, and shove there hand up there and it hurts and it also sucks and also I don't like it!! And that's me - I'm thirty-three years old. Imagine if Obama makes old people go to the doctor too. They're all old and how can they deal with being poked and needled and hands get shoved up the who knows where?

They can't and it's not right!!

So I say everybody needs to stop what they are doing on the Internets because the nakeds will still be there when you come back and instead go call their TV and tell them NO TO UNIVERSAL HEALTH CARE!!!

Because it's not right!!!

God bless.

Know Your Days of the Week: Thor’s Day

A lot of times, we take certain things for granted. Monday is Monday and Thursday is Thursday, and we don’t really know what Thursday means other than it is the fourth day of the work week. Mostly because nobody cares; it’s not important to know why Thursday is called Thursday; it has nothing to do with how we live our lives; why would you ever want to waste your time learning something so useless?

I’ll tell you why: because today is Thursday and I’m lacking inspiration for proper blog postage so this is what you’re stuck with. So humor me. Or go find another blog.

The History of the Seven Day Week:

A long, long time ago, days just happened one after the other. There was no thought as to whether or not those days should be grouped together and separated from other groups of days and, as a result, calendars were just really really long strips that went on and on forever with one day to the right of the one preceding and because of this calendars were impossible to read. So one day, people got together and said “Enough, this is bullshit. How are we going to know how many more days it is until the next orgy if we can’t just look at a single page and know where we are?”

So, it was decided that from then on days would be grouped together into “Weaks,” which was reflective of how ‘weak’ the situation was at the time. They decided they would just start numbering them, and that a week would be however many little boxes could fit on a page at a time: which coincidentally is seven.

Gradually, people started adding names to the seven different “days of the weak” to differentiate from the numbering. After all, having four “7ths of June” isn’t going to help anyone, is it?

Thursday: Thor’s Day.

Not even remotely homo-erotic. Nope.

The name for Thursday comes to us from our Viking brethren. Other Viking contributions to Western Culture: herring and the thirst for blood and money.

The Vikings names their fourth day of the week after the mythological Norse god Thor. He was a gigantic red haired man known for throwing hammers at people and shooting thunder bolts. Hot tempered, horny (had mistresses) and generally violent and irrational, he was, in short, a bad ass.

One story tells of the time when Thor was tricked by a frost giant named Geirrod into coming over to his castle, presumably to kill Thor. When Thor got there, he was so pissed off that he killed not only Geirrod and his daughters, but also every frost giant he could find within the immediate vicinity.

How would you like to just be an innocent bystander frost giant, trying to go about your daily life, when suddenly out of nowhere comes this gigantic red headed psychopath throwing hammers and lightning around?

Thursday Today:

In honor of Thor, the bad ass God of killing innocent frost giants with lightning, we spend our Thursdays listlessly sitting around at work, praying that the clock moves faster so that we can get to Friday, which is a much more pleasant day. We then go home and watch network television – the Office is on Thursday nights. That Steve Carell cracks me up!

Thursday is also Thanksgiving, which is a day of great family strife across this great nation of ours. Imagine having a family full of Thors.

Famous Thursdays from History:

October 24, 1929: Black Thursday, which is the day the stock market crashed and the national economy began the long spiral downward known as the Great Depression.
How’s that for cheery?

To An Idiot Who Also Happens to Ride His Bicycle in City Traffic

Yeah, I get it: you're saving the environment and getting exercise and cutting down on the amount of cars parked on the streets and in traffic and blah blah. Good for you.

You know what, though?

If you're riding out in the street with the cars, then why are you not wearing a helmet? I know it's not cool looking, but you know what else isn't cool looking? When your brains are hanging out of your shattered skull after getting tattooed by a pickup truck.

Speaking of getting tattooed, why don't you have to stop at stop lights or stop signs? Those things are there so that people like myself, surrounded by a cage of metal with airbags, don't get hit and killed. What makes you, some random dude sitting exposed to the world on top of two wheels and a couple of chains, think that somehow you don't have to worry about that?

You want to ignore stop signs, that's fine. It's lame, it's bullshit, but it's fine. But stop lights at three street intersections in the middle of freaking rush hour? Are you out of your mind?

Are bike riders invincible? Were you endowed with some sort of special ability that keeps you from awfully painful deaths? Are you somehow above the laws of the road and the laws of physics, that you can just get away with tooling around in traffic without a helmet on, weaving around cars that are trying to turn, just daring people to hit you?

Seriously, are you insane?

Damn It, Brett Favre!!

Seriously, this has gone too far.

Favre, you've retired like eighteen times already. You gave up your right to Green Bay legend status to play for the New York Jets, which didn't work out. You're returning to a certain division that greatly affects my fanship season outlook. You're like the zombie of the football world. And you've become all anyone talks about in the sports media.

In short, Brett Favre, you've become a nuisance.

Those who follow this blog knows that those teams and players mentioned on this blog are plagued by the evil Clever Title Sports Curse - the phenomenon whereby those poor saps mentioned on this here blog are hounded by mediocrity and disappointment throughout their season. I try to be very careful who I mention here so that good teams are not inadvertently harmed while the bad teams are rightously punished for their inherent wickedness.

Well, the time has come for yours truly to once again use his blog for evil.

I hereby officially pronounce Sports Curse on you, Brett Favre, and on the Minnesota Vikings for selling their football souls for a chance at a Super Bowl this year.

Woe unto you, Brett Favre! And woe unto Minnesota!

Friday: Living in the Land of Hopes and Dreams!

Okay, yeah. Posting has been, shall we say, sporadic this week. But I have a good excuse! Really, I do! Want to hear it?

I spend all of my free interwebs time reading about football, of course!

You see, August is a very special month for the football fan. It's the very last month of a painfully long off-season. The glimmer of football is finally visible at the end of this six month long tunnel.

And it is also the month where hope springs eternal. Everything will be different this year! Not at all like last year! Last year was bad, but this year will be good and will surprise people!

In August, your team has yet to lose a game (let alone all of their games for their season). In August, your team hasn't been beaten by teams you never knew existed. In August, your team has players who can field punts without fumbling the ball. In August, your team hasn't had a quarterback run out of the back of his own end zone.

The slate is clean. The reports from training camp are coming in daily with little nuggets of promise.

Sure, I may spend some Saturday and Sunday a month from now banging my head against a coffee table, shouting "Why, why, why did you do that?" and then take the rest of the weekend (and the following Monday) to sulk in my darkened apartment.

But for now, I can't wait for the seasons to start!

You didn't come here to listen to me set myself up for dramatic irony, though. So, for those of you who hate football, the requisite Friday e-phemera:

Interesting Priorities: According to a Dutch survey, the general public prefers a good trip to the washroom over making sweet passionate love.

Continuing Unhealthy Blog-session*: Hey, what has Vladimir Putin been up to lately? While Obama is struggling to get people not to shout, Putin is out watching sports, taking pictures with chicks and generally kicking ass. Here's a picture of the Iron Man of Russia with his puppet Medvedevdeveddev or whatever the hell his name is:

Now there's some fodder for a caption contest. Anyone interested? Take a whack at it in the comment section if you are.

And Finally, Breakfast Sandwich: I love them, and there's a place by my office that makes them. They are great. So, I figure why not throw their name out there as a karma thing.

Jupiter Outpost Cafe.

It's on Fulton Market. Yeah, I know. "When will I ever find myself down on Fulton Market looking for a breakfast sandwich?" I don't know. But hey, I might have said the same thing to you two years ago.

*Blog-session would be a portmanteau of Blog and Obsession, for you linguistics nerds out there.

Typing

Rewrites today. Blog post suffers.

Lollapalooza: as Critiqued by a Crotchety Old Man and His Pomeranian, Fritz

Double posted on the Robo-blog.

These goddamn kids!

Every Sunday, I go down to Grant Park with my Pomeranian, Fritz. We go for a little walk, we poo poo, I pick it up, we feed pigeons little pieces of bread and just enjoy the day. Here's a picture of Fritz, in case you as well love Pomeranians.

Well this Sunday, Fritz and I took out little walk and, as we were walking towards the bench where I always - always - sit and feed the pigeons, there were two goddamned hippie kids kissing each other French style!

And then I heard the noise!

And the smell of unwashed teenagers and twenty year old youngins!

And the faint stench of vodka mixed with 7-Eleven Big Gulp drinks!

And I said to myself, goddamn it! It's one of those damned Lollypaloser rackets they do every summer!

Fritz was not happy either. Isn't that right, Fritz?

Yes.

I decided to take Fritz home to our condo and sooth his nerves with a freshly baked doggie treat - I could tell all the hippery was playing with Fritz's constitution - but everywhere we went there were damned kids dancing and singing and vomiting and carrying on.

At about 5:30 PM, one of the so called "bands" took the stage and it was particularly odious. I don't understand how people can call that music. Ella Fitzgerald, now that was music. Now a days, bands have such weird names, like "Arctic Monkeys."

That doesn't even make sense, "Arctic Monkeys!" Monkeys don't live in the Arctic! Penguins do! Even Fritz could tell you that!

Well, needless to say, I plan on complaining to my alderman. This racket needs to stop.

The only thing that could possibly be worse is if we get the Olympics, with all those greasy foreigners running around.

Fritz would have a fit.

Friday, and Not a Day Too Soon

What do we do on Fridays again?


Plug Shows? Yes, we do. 20% Theatre Company's Snapshots. Deets on the side bar. What else?


Talk About Interesting Things on the Internet? We can do that too. The Interwebs are spendid things, mostly because it allows us to connect with people doing stupid or inappropriate things. Take for instance Texts From Last Night, which is an enjoyable website brought to my attention by my friend, Natalia. Basically, it's a list of ridiculous texts. There was a "bees in my fucking pants" text that was classic. As Natalia points out, they're even funnier when you consider that someone takes the time to type these out. Thank you Natalia and thank you Interwebs!


What else?


Special Newsworthy Notes? Oh! John Hughes passed away. I look a look at his IMDB page and was amazed at the amount of movies he's touched, from classics like Ferris Bueller to the epic Vacation, Christmas Vacation and Planes, Trains & Automobiles to movies like Home Alone.


I knew the guy was a big deal, but damn. That's some heavily influential comedy right there. And he was apparently born in Lansing, Michigan.


Are we good?


No.


What am I missing, Mr. Bold Font?


Stupid Pictures? Well, I don't know stupid, but what about BADASS pictures of a Russian political strong-man performing various feats of macho awesomeness? Video included, though I can't listen to the sound so I don't know what is said. I can only imagine something Russian and badass. Click on the Photo Gallery to see such gems as this...


...where aparently a local man said something displeasing during a meal. Poor, poor bastard.


Now are we good? All Friday'd out?


Good to go.

Commence with the One Act Festival Pluggery

What's that you say? You want more pluggery?

Ask and ye shall receive, imagined readership:

SNAPSHOTS 2009
Thursday, Friday & Saturday August 6th, 7th and 8th @ 8PM.
Sunday, August 9th @ 7PM.
Strawdog Theatre,
3829 N. Broadway, Chicago, IL.
Tickets: $15
To reserve your ticket call 312.326.3429
or email twentypercentchicago@yahoo.com
20% Theatre Company's website

This is the One Act festival I am in this weekend. It should be a good time, and I should know because it opens tonight.

Excited? You bet I am.

Aroused? You be the judge.

Stratford - Where I've Been for the Last Couple of Days

Say what you will about their love of gravy and socialized medicine and wildlife, those Canadians know how to put on a play. At least, at Stratford they do.

This past weekend, the girlfriend and I took a nice long weekend trip up to Ontario to take in a couple of the shows playing now at the Stratford Shakespeare Festival.

We saw three shows: The Importance of Being Earnest by Oscar Wilde, Julius Caesar by the old brit himself, and Cyrano de Bergerac by Edmond Rostand.

Allow me a moment of drama nerdery. Please pause while I push my glasses up my nose, clear my throat and put on the nerd cap. Okay, here we go:

I find it interesting looking at the scope of setting and action for these three plays. Julius Caesar is the oldest of the plays, and the action of the play ranges from private homes to public squares in Rome, and finally ends up on a battle field over the course of many years. It’s a big damn play. Earnest is the second oldest of the two and takes place in only three locations, two of which are homes, over the course of a couple of days. Cyrano, which while set in 1640 was actually written in after Earnest, takes place in several locations in Paris, then another battle field and then in a convent fifteen years later.

I just think it’s kind of cool to look at how tastes seem to flow back and forth between ‘big’ plots and ‘little’ plot. It’s a contrast that, in my mind, ranks up there with the serious vs. comedic and the instruction vs. entertainment debates.

And the nerd cap comes off.

While they were all great, my favorite show was by far Cyrano de Bergerac. I just loved the wide range of the show, the fact that there was an entire battle on stage, and just the quality of the performances were great. The actor who played Cyrano, Colm Feore, was phenomenal. There really are no other words for it.

All around, great times were had. Usually I reserve some space to gripe but, apart from the general bullshit of traffic, I really don't have anything to gripe about. It’s hard to recommend a show that’s 428 miles from Chicago but, if you’re willing to brave the vast distance and the Canadian gravy-laden wilderness, then go, I say, and enjoy.

GAAAAAARGGHHH!!!!

The first day back from vacation:

(Actual blog post hopefully coming tomorrow)