Man About Town

In the spirit of having a title that doesn’t really refer to the body of the message, my dialogue today will have nothing to do with what I wrote as the header. You can thank Shatton for this. He’s a bad influence.

I was trying to figure out what to write today, as there are several things that are on my mind. Of course, in times of need, I turn to Shatton, who had a bunch of headers embedded in his Blog. He is a genius.


Albert sent me this site over MSN the other night when we were chatting. It is the funniest site I’ve come across in a long time. And what is funnier is that my mom owns a good portion of the comic books contained in that site.

When we were kids, my mom bought a big box of comics for us to read. I remember distinctly wondering why the covers of the books were so stupid. I suppose that the comic book industry was trying to get a broad range of people to enter the fold, so they started publishing whatever they could. Seriously, though, if these were published today, there would be plenty of lawsuits flying around.

Abreast – Not the Good Kind

One thing that really gets my goat are those people who like to walk like an army along the sidewalk. You know the kind. They stand shoulder to shoulder taking up the whole sidewalk, and march forward, blabbing on and on and not paying any attention the fact that some poor old lady has just climbed up a tree to get out of their sidewalk-hogging-way.

My new streategy is to treat this like a game of “Red Rover”. I will essentially stick to my route, and not really deviate very much (I tend to walk on the right side of the sidewalk, relative to the direction I am facing). Most people move out of the way.

Stupid people don’t. So they get knocked about like tenpins.

I love when people who get upset about this. They confront me about the fact that I got in their way. I usually politely remind them that the sidewalk is for everyone, and that they should pay more attention and walk in a more reasonable formation, so as not to take up so much room.

Some apologize. This is nice. On the other hand, some people just grumble to themselves, insisting that they have the right to block up the sidewalk.

There is a name for this type of person. My friend Christian shared it with me. The name is ass-cube.

Treated Like Crap

At the place where I work, we have something called “Treat Day”. Every payday, one of four teams brings in treats for people. I remember when I moved to this location, and people had heard that I liked to cook. They were very quick to tell me that it was always better when people brought in home-made stuff, rather than store-bought stuff.

I agreed with them. Nothing is worse than the person that shows up to a potluck (that has been specified as being a home-made goods potluck) with 2 bags of chips or something. The exception to this is if they had a reasonable excuse. You know. Things like…

  • My power was off all night
  • I was abducted by aliens and was probed, and quite liked it

The night before my first Treat Day, I made spring rolls. Filipino-style. From scratch (I didn’t make the Lumpia paper from scratch, but I do know how). I made one hundred of the two-inch long little treats. Pork. Shrimp. Water chestnuts. A whack of ingredients all hand diced and lovingly deep fried in groups of 6.

I really loves showing up to the potluck with my homemade treat, only to see a container of Kirkland cookies from Costco. What effort that must have taken!