Yes, two posts in a row. That's why endorphins and boredom don't mix...
*****
Me and my buddy were downing cold ones in a bar one early evening. We had just come from a christening, I was a godfather to a cute baby girl (Good luck, kid. I am probably the worst godparent in history). We were still full from the reception that followed, but the munchies set in on me, and I had to get a nibble.
I scanned the menu, and found TNT, a fancy name for stuffed green peppers. This was one of the more popular new barchows among the cheap watering holes. Typically, the green peppers were stuffed with cheese then wrapped in spring roll wrappers before being deep fried. It was usually mildly hot, the green peppers not really as potent as their red cousins, but had enough of a kick to put the exclamation point on a gulp cold beer. So I called the waiter, and ordered a batch.
It came, and it was a tad different from what we were used to. This wasn't wrapped, it was sliced partially open, then stuffed with ground meat and melted cheese, the green of the pepper still gleaming in its spicy glory. Excitedly, my buddy took the first bite, immediately after which he chugged down half a bottle of beer to suppress the fire burning in his mouth. It was effin' hot, I guess. I guess that should have been my cue to send it back to the kitchen, to be shoved down the chef's throat, instead I took a bite. Wow, it was effin' hot! (Hooray for Captain Obvious!) We suspect that had it been deep fried, the cooking oil would probably had taken out some of the natural oils that made the peppers hot, but since this was seemingly baked, all those essential oils were still there.
Out of sheer pride, we finished the whole plate anyway, downing half a dozen beers in the process. There were 6 peppers in all, I was sweating like crazy the whole time. You probably guessed that we didn't order the same thing again, of course we didn't. We got peanuts, plain, boring old peanuts. Peanuts are not hot, they're pretty bland if unsalted, they're the safe bet, and not hot. (Yes, that needed repetition)If a single piece of pepper were served along with our peanuts, we would have gone straight to the kitchen and fashioned out a new a-hole for the chef.
Moral of the Story: When embarking on a drinking session, check your pride at the door. This saves you a lot of inconvenience, and generally promotes better health.
Alternate Moral of the Story: Peppers of any color are hot, stupid!
Monday, May 31, 2010
Sunday, May 30, 2010
Run for your underwear!
Went out for a nice evening jog, when suddenly the skies conveniently opened up and decided to drench me and my underwear half a kilometer from the nearest shelter. So I ran as fast as I could, my heart racing with every footfall, struggling to gulp down the heavy, damp air, all for the sake of keeping my undies dry. I didn't time my run for shelter, but I bet it wasn't impressive to say the least, as I saw grandpa and grandma zoom past me in their walkers.
You see, this particular jogging trail was a long ways from home, and I forgot to bring extra underwear and shorts. If I didn't keep my shorts dry somehow, there was a huge possibility that my friend, whose car I hitched in on, would disown me and literally leave me "out to dry". I've jogged in the rain before, it's a great feeling, but I'll bet walking the whole 15 kilometers home soaking wet after jogging at night isn't a good idea.
*****
This morning, still lazy to get up from bed, I started reading. That didn't last for very long, because though I love the author, I can't stand reading him, it felt weird. The author in question is (ahem) myself, and I was reading a collection of posts from this very blog, a birthday gift from a close friend (Thanks again, Jean!)
Why it felt weird, I have no idea. Maybe because reading back you see each and every grammar and spelling mistake that you made, or because it felt vain, or perhaps it was some literary form of incest. I try to picture some authors reading their own work, I conjured up an image of Mr. Hemingway, seated in a cafe somewhere in Paris, reading his own book, isn't that just wrong?
Back when we were kids, my sisters and I loved recording our voices on tape and grabbed every chance to belt out our favorite Sesame Street chorus or the occasional Menudo or Spandau Ballet track. It was fun, sure, until mom found the tapes and played it for the amusement of other grown ups. It was petrifying, listening to your own voice squawking "Rubber Ducky" (Ernie) or "Explosion" (Menudo) or "The Rainbow Connection" (Kermit) and hearing these adults laugh their guts out. We'd squeal our objections, throwing tantrums while were at it, anything just to make the torture end. In the same way, reading my own stuff gives me goose bumps, wondering if the people reading it were laughing with me or at me.
I took the time to find the "delete" button for this blog... you know, just in case.
*****
Went people-watching (translation: ogling hot girls) while having dinner at a mini-mall. Interestingly, the adjacent table, four girls, were people-watching as well (translation: ogling men). So I multi-tasked, people-watching while eavesdropping.
Turns out, there's a world of difference as to how men and women people-watch. When men do it, it's only about looks and sex-appeal. Women, meanwhile, seem to be reading a curriculum vitae and a bank statement when they watch other people. For instance, shoes are apparently a major category from which women base their opinion of guys. While any man would relish owning Kobe's Nike basketball shoes, it's just a normal rubber-soled shoe for the ladyfolk, which indicate a guy's immaturity. Same goes for wearing basketball jerseys, baseball caps, baggy pants, and unkept hair. The women favor leather shoes, or those expensive sneakers, because according to them, it's classy. (Huh?) Man-purses are okay as well, as long as they aren't waist-bags (which are dorky, fyi). Lugging around a small three-fold umbrella and/or a backpack? Not a good sign, golf umbrellas are the way to go, because it's terribly hard to fit those parasols on the bus or jeepney, and you won't carry around that backpack if you had the convenience of a passenger's seat or trunk.
For guys, a girl could wear wooden clogs, elephant pants, a feather in a cap and a really large bag for all we care, as long as she's hot and flirty-looking. Just seeing a hot chick throw a wink our way, we'd be re-enacting the great flood with our drool. And her wallet won't matter too much because, well, no one likes girls who are high-maintenance anyway.
Oh, if you happen to be a guy who loves shirts from Spoofs Unlimited, you're probably going to land pretty low on the totem pole. And wearing that shirt from "the Ateneo" or DLSU isn't going to get you higher either unless you look like you're at least distantly related to either Chris Tiu or Simon Atkins. (I'm currently burning my green and white shirt as I type this)
Another interesting insight, girls judge both guys and girls. Guys, on the other hand, see only girls. We manage to block other guys out of our line of sight, along with mangy dogs, shopping carts and trash bins. Oh, and we also don't see the shorts that girls wear under their skirts, we try to see past them, pretending we caught a glimpse of their undies.
On this note, I'd conclude that girls (at least those four) are more evil than men. Sure, we eye women as we would our steak (medium rare, please!), but at least we don't judge them based on their material possessions and social status.
*****
The differences between men and women people-watching might probably be a direct result of typical Darwinian selection. Girls could be more inclined to choose partners with the ability to sustain them and their future brood, while men need only partners who make them want to, uh, "breed" more often.
You see, this particular jogging trail was a long ways from home, and I forgot to bring extra underwear and shorts. If I didn't keep my shorts dry somehow, there was a huge possibility that my friend, whose car I hitched in on, would disown me and literally leave me "out to dry". I've jogged in the rain before, it's a great feeling, but I'll bet walking the whole 15 kilometers home soaking wet after jogging at night isn't a good idea.
*****
This morning, still lazy to get up from bed, I started reading. That didn't last for very long, because though I love the author, I can't stand reading him, it felt weird. The author in question is (ahem) myself, and I was reading a collection of posts from this very blog, a birthday gift from a close friend (Thanks again, Jean!)
Why it felt weird, I have no idea. Maybe because reading back you see each and every grammar and spelling mistake that you made, or because it felt vain, or perhaps it was some literary form of incest. I try to picture some authors reading their own work, I conjured up an image of Mr. Hemingway, seated in a cafe somewhere in Paris, reading his own book, isn't that just wrong?
Back when we were kids, my sisters and I loved recording our voices on tape and grabbed every chance to belt out our favorite Sesame Street chorus or the occasional Menudo or Spandau Ballet track. It was fun, sure, until mom found the tapes and played it for the amusement of other grown ups. It was petrifying, listening to your own voice squawking "Rubber Ducky" (Ernie) or "Explosion" (Menudo) or "The Rainbow Connection" (Kermit) and hearing these adults laugh their guts out. We'd squeal our objections, throwing tantrums while were at it, anything just to make the torture end. In the same way, reading my own stuff gives me goose bumps, wondering if the people reading it were laughing with me or at me.
I took the time to find the "delete" button for this blog... you know, just in case.
*****
Went people-watching (translation: ogling hot girls) while having dinner at a mini-mall. Interestingly, the adjacent table, four girls, were people-watching as well (translation: ogling men). So I multi-tasked, people-watching while eavesdropping.
Turns out, there's a world of difference as to how men and women people-watch. When men do it, it's only about looks and sex-appeal. Women, meanwhile, seem to be reading a curriculum vitae and a bank statement when they watch other people. For instance, shoes are apparently a major category from which women base their opinion of guys. While any man would relish owning Kobe's Nike basketball shoes, it's just a normal rubber-soled shoe for the ladyfolk, which indicate a guy's immaturity. Same goes for wearing basketball jerseys, baseball caps, baggy pants, and unkept hair. The women favor leather shoes, or those expensive sneakers, because according to them, it's classy. (Huh?) Man-purses are okay as well, as long as they aren't waist-bags (which are dorky, fyi). Lugging around a small three-fold umbrella and/or a backpack? Not a good sign, golf umbrellas are the way to go, because it's terribly hard to fit those parasols on the bus or jeepney, and you won't carry around that backpack if you had the convenience of a passenger's seat or trunk.
For guys, a girl could wear wooden clogs, elephant pants, a feather in a cap and a really large bag for all we care, as long as she's hot and flirty-looking. Just seeing a hot chick throw a wink our way, we'd be re-enacting the great flood with our drool. And her wallet won't matter too much because, well, no one likes girls who are high-maintenance anyway.
Oh, if you happen to be a guy who loves shirts from Spoofs Unlimited, you're probably going to land pretty low on the totem pole. And wearing that shirt from "the Ateneo" or DLSU isn't going to get you higher either unless you look like you're at least distantly related to either Chris Tiu or Simon Atkins. (I'm currently burning my green and white shirt as I type this)
Another interesting insight, girls judge both guys and girls. Guys, on the other hand, see only girls. We manage to block other guys out of our line of sight, along with mangy dogs, shopping carts and trash bins. Oh, and we also don't see the shorts that girls wear under their skirts, we try to see past them, pretending we caught a glimpse of their undies.
On this note, I'd conclude that girls (at least those four) are more evil than men. Sure, we eye women as we would our steak (medium rare, please!), but at least we don't judge them based on their material possessions and social status.
*****
The differences between men and women people-watching might probably be a direct result of typical Darwinian selection. Girls could be more inclined to choose partners with the ability to sustain them and their future brood, while men need only partners who make them want to, uh, "breed" more often.
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Funny you should ask...
I should have started writing this post half an hour ago, I turned on the computer, logged-in, and started staring at the blank page when all of a sudden, I spied the peanut jar just sitting there, coaxing me. I paused and focused on it, their shiny dark skins were peppered with small crystals of salt, I could almost smell the roasted garlic and taste the spicy oil that coated each one. My hands moved away from the keyboard and reached for it, the clear jar slightly cool to the touch, and with opposable thumbs, the lid came undone... exposing the delectable treats for my satisfaction. Yummy.
Now that that's over and done with...
*****
No thanks to beer and fast-food, I'm once again moving up the scales. I'm using stress as an excuse this time, because it's vague and almost everyone complains about it once in a while, making it absolutely convenient. So after much procrastination, I've decided to do something about it by way of another diet plan. Less carbs and no dinner, that should do the trick in a month or so. Any questions?
Q: So how about evenings out for beer with friends?
A: Beers are exempted from the moratorium on carbs, and beer nights are not considered dinner. So unless I eat my friends to go with the beers, there should be no problem.
Q: Do you plan to exercise along with the diet?
A: I always plan to exercise, In fact, I planned on exercising just 5 minutes ago.
Q: So did you?
A: Hell no, planning to exercise is tiring enough already.
Q: How much have you gained, anyway?
A: Chug down a whole case of beer in 3 consecutive nights, you'll get the answer.
Q: Why diet? You're perfect the way you are!
A: Yes I am. But you know, sometimes it's nice to feel imperfect, so humanizing.
Q: What foods do you recommend is best for breakfast and lunch?
A: Food that once lived, roamed the land or seas, then died a bloody death.
Q: Are there any other exemptions to the no-carb rule other than beer?
A: There are a lot, in fact. Other alcoholic beverages with the exception of girly mixed drinks are okay. Also, 'halo-halo' is not considered carbs. Pizza, if of the thin crust variety, is also exempted for as long as they're generously topped with bits and pieces of dead animals.
Q: So what about bar chow? Beers are great with bar chow, aren't they?
A: Yes they are, but I only limit myself to the non-"carby" ones. And peanuts.
Q: Why are peanuts okay?
A: Do you really want to know?
Q: Yes.
A: Cause they make you poop.
Q: Isn't this an unhealthy way of losing weight?
A: Getting hit by a car while jogging is unhealthy as well.
Q: Why not go to the gym?
A: First, because they cost an arm and a leg. Second, they don't serve beer.
Q: What's your motivation for losing weight?
A: You, fatty.
Q: What's your target weight?
A: When my bathroom scale stops yelling at me to get off.
Q: Any thoughts on liposuction?
A: I hate needles, and what is it really but a really big one? Plus, it costs an arm, a leg and my left nut.
Q: What's the first thing you're going to do when you get down to your desired weight?
A: Order everything they've got at McDonald's for a midnight snack.
Now that that's over and done with...
*****
No thanks to beer and fast-food, I'm once again moving up the scales. I'm using stress as an excuse this time, because it's vague and almost everyone complains about it once in a while, making it absolutely convenient. So after much procrastination, I've decided to do something about it by way of another diet plan. Less carbs and no dinner, that should do the trick in a month or so. Any questions?
Q: So how about evenings out for beer with friends?
A: Beers are exempted from the moratorium on carbs, and beer nights are not considered dinner. So unless I eat my friends to go with the beers, there should be no problem.
Q: Do you plan to exercise along with the diet?
A: I always plan to exercise, In fact, I planned on exercising just 5 minutes ago.
Q: So did you?
A: Hell no, planning to exercise is tiring enough already.
Q: How much have you gained, anyway?
A: Chug down a whole case of beer in 3 consecutive nights, you'll get the answer.
Q: Why diet? You're perfect the way you are!
A: Yes I am. But you know, sometimes it's nice to feel imperfect, so humanizing.
Q: What foods do you recommend is best for breakfast and lunch?
A: Food that once lived, roamed the land or seas, then died a bloody death.
Q: Are there any other exemptions to the no-carb rule other than beer?
A: There are a lot, in fact. Other alcoholic beverages with the exception of girly mixed drinks are okay. Also, 'halo-halo' is not considered carbs. Pizza, if of the thin crust variety, is also exempted for as long as they're generously topped with bits and pieces of dead animals.
Q: So what about bar chow? Beers are great with bar chow, aren't they?
A: Yes they are, but I only limit myself to the non-"carby" ones. And peanuts.
Q: Why are peanuts okay?
A: Do you really want to know?
Q: Yes.
A: Cause they make you poop.
Q: Isn't this an unhealthy way of losing weight?
A: Getting hit by a car while jogging is unhealthy as well.
Q: Why not go to the gym?
A: First, because they cost an arm and a leg. Second, they don't serve beer.
Q: What's your motivation for losing weight?
A: You, fatty.
Q: What's your target weight?
A: When my bathroom scale stops yelling at me to get off.
Q: Any thoughts on liposuction?
A: I hate needles, and what is it really but a really big one? Plus, it costs an arm, a leg and my left nut.
Q: What's the first thing you're going to do when you get down to your desired weight?
A: Order everything they've got at McDonald's for a midnight snack.
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