Saturday, September 30, 2006

Tanory Tantrum Wedding Crashers, Part 1

My wife's cousin is getting married tonight. Since my wife and I "are one," this technically means that my cousin is getting married tonight. This also means that I look really great in my dress. Congrats!

Since Mark and Julie are getting married, this brings up an interesting yet poignant question:

What will Julie's dog's last name be from now on?

I'm sure that adjusting to married life will be tough for the dog. For one thing, the dog will not be the center of attention for the full week that M & J are on their honeymoon. I know from my own experience that not being the center of attention can be traumatic, but thankfully that hasn't happened since '82.

And I think my past experiences will relate well to the dog's future non-attention-having experiences. For one thing, I pretty much am a dog: I eat, sleep, go to the bathroom outside and shed occasionally. I also lay on the couch a lot and eat food off the floor. That's all a dog really does, besides maybe occasionally trying to sprint through the invisible electric fence.

Being a hairy man-ape has also given me powers to understand all other types of creatures, but unfortunately "women" is not in that list. So good luck, Mark, with all of your future endeavors! And if there's any advice that I can give you, it would be to thoroughly read the following items:

How Not to Get in More Trouble with the Wife


How Not to Have to Wash the Dishes.


This Only Happens to Me

There we were, stuck outside of a Whitney Bank's ATM machine in the middle of the night in New Orleans. The power had just gone out, and the ATM machine still had my debit card.

With no idea of when the power would return, or whether or not the ATM would spit my card out when it restarted, all we could do was feel around in the dark for the ATM's smooth, hard surface, looking for a place to knee it in the groin.

Don't worry, Mom, I was wearing clean underwear. (Did you know that if you turn your undies inside-out that you can wear them for another five days?)

A cop happened to walk by as I was cursing and kicking the ATM. She understood. It's tough to find a New Orleans cop that understands. So I guess things could have been worse.

My wife and I had walked to the ATM because it was right next door to our hotel. We had planned on going out and getting wasted, because it was our six year anniversary of when we started to date. That's what you do when you've found someone who can put up with your crap for six years: you celebrate and thank the Lord for creating someone sweet and innocent and who just doesn't know any better than to date you. I must have done something great in a past life!

So happy anniversary, honey! I'm sorry I can't take you out to eat, but the ATM ate my card. I think we have some go-tarts in our luggage.

I called Whitney's 24-hour hotline and canceled my card. So if you found a debit card with my name on it, do your worst.

I would also like to encourage you to vote. There are some amendments that you may want to take a good look at. And if your parish / county has any amendments dealing with backup generators, power grid upgrades, etc, then I will have to agree with P. Diddy on this one: "Vote or Die!"

Friday, September 29, 2006

My External Brain

I am a rabid fan of Science Fiction. I generally froth at the mouth while perusing books to buy, and not only because several science fiction books have half-naked alien women on their covers. Mmm... alien women.

As a science fiction fan, I look for instances where "science fiction" either becomes "regular-ass fiction" or "truthiness," so I can then point my finger at those around me and say, "You see! You thought science fiction was stupid, but now look what's happened! This is all your fault, you literature-reading %&#!"

I am proud to announce that my keen eye, although astigmatized, has found one such instance.

There are several stories where a group of detectives, cops, scientists, etc, feed a bunch of data into a computer, then the computer spits out an answer. For instance, Douglas Adams' Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy has one that spits out the answer to Life, the Universe and Everything as "42," and Alfred Bester's got one in The Demolished Man (which, coincidentally, won the first Hugo Award).

But this has become a reality.

You may be thinking that I'm talking about a computer or a PDA, but we've had computers for several decades and these really don't seem to fit the bill. For example, your computer's calculator may be able to give you an answer to some data you input, but someone had to program all that math in.

No, I've found something better: my wife.

Since I've been married, my wife has taken over as my external brain. I give her all the information needed to make a decision, she'll combine that with her own programming, then spit out an answer. Maybe "spit" isn't the right word. "Lovingly decline" is more appropriate.

My wife is pretty smart. Much smarter than I am. How and why she married me is information that apparently her programs can't process. Or maybe that data is just hidden somewhere.

Or it could be that she's giving me subtle hints, and as a guy those are going over my head. I should request that all answers to be in the form of PDF files. Anybody have any experience tying their wives' response algorithms to Adobe LiveCycle Forms Server?

Regardless, it's great having an external brain, and you should look into upgrading your Girlfriend 3.0 to Wife 1.0 very soon so you too can take advantage of this great asset!

Bladder Disease has Returned

My friend Shelly went to Spain and, while eating lunch at a restaurant, tried to tell the waiter that she was hot. But instead of saying, "Estoy caliente," which means "I am hot," she said, "Soy caliente."

"Soy caliente" technically also means "I am hot."

But it is more commonly used as slang for "I am in heat." !Aaaiiee!

And while it's a lot of fun to convert English to Spanish and back to English on, it's much funnier when a mistranslation occurs in a real-world situation. (Note: Bushisms don't count as mistranslations. They count as Misunderestimlations.)

Take this example that Crankston sent me today: a sign in Wales was posted on a cycling route that has English and Welsh phrases. The English phrases says, "Cyclists Dismount." But the sign's Welsh phrase, "Llid y bledren dymchwelyd," means "Bladder disease has returned."

But this brings up an even deeper, more poignant point: when did bladder disease ever leave?

I blame the Prince of Wales and his horse for reintroducing bladder disease into the Welsh population. For shame, sir! Shame on you and your horrendous, huge elephant ears! That's a bad dog!

Here are some key phrases that may help you in your future travels to foreign country, once Iran, China and Russia start their attack:

Spanish: Tengo un gato grande en mis pantalones.
French: J'ai un grand chat dans mes pantalon.
German: Ich habe eine große Katze in meiner Hose.
Italian: Ho un grande gatto nei miei ansiti.
Norweigen: Jeg har en stor katt i min bukser.

Hope it helps!

Thursday, September 28, 2006

100 Minihorse Power

The term "horsepower" is used by every car manufacturer on the globe, except for Antarctica, where they use sled dog power. But horsepower is a subjective term, and as such should not be used.

Consider this:

The term horsepower was invented by the engineer James Watt, whom the "watt" is named after. This is already suspicious. Why didn't he name a horsepower a "watt?"


Here's the definition of horsepower from HowStuffWorks, so it must be true:

1 horsepower is equivalent to 746 watts. So if you took a 1-horsepower horse and put it on a treadmill, it could operate a generator producing a continuous 746 watts.

Now all we need is to figure out what 746 watts can do, and we're in business!

Since the definition of horsepower comes from the 19th century, it's a good guess that horses today have been bred to be bigger, stronger and faster. That means that the number of watts that could be generated from a single horse today might outweigh the power of two or three horses from Watt's time. Ah, the power of horse testosterone!

Basically, horsepower is a useless term, like "get back to work" or "object-oriented programming." So the next time you're looking for a car, ask your car salesmen to provide the units of power in joules, watts, volts or hashtables.

Son of the Pizza Pail

We finished off our Pizza Pail (the Pail with a Purpose), this time using the toaster oven instead of nuking it in the microwave. It was so delicious that we didn't give it time to cool off and congeal, and that really made a difference. I'm amazed!

I was wrong, Pizza Pail, and I'm sorry. Don't be like that, baby, you know I love you. I wasn't thinking! I was wrong to write those things about you! It was Aaron's fault, he made me heat you up in the microwave! You know I won't do it again... can you ever forgive me?

Thus my love for pizza remains unfettered. My pizza-loving streak now runs for 26 years, 288 days, 1 hour and 10 minutes, and still counting!

Wednesday, September 27, 2006

Hospital Food can be Fun!

It's common knowledge that hospital food is terrible. But I would like to propose that the people who think that are not good foragers. I come from a strong line of hunter-gatherers, so I know how to throw a good meal together if I have to. You see, it's all about diversity.

The cafeteria is a good place to start looking for a tasty snack. There will probably be a daily special, which means it is either freshly made that day or only a week old. Either way, this is probably your best bet for a start on a delicious gourmet meal.

However, if you're like me and you'll settle for less, try the grits!

Grits are wonderful. They are easy to make, quick to heat up, and you can make interesting sculptures out of them once they cool and harden into a gelatinous glob.

You may be tempted to get sausage, eggs or a biscuit along with your grits. You certainly can, as these would make good gargoyles in your gothic grit castle. I would also encourage you to diversify your nutrients and not limit yourself to the wonderful vegetable grit (a grit is a type of corn, so technically that makes it a veggie. Die veggies!).

But the best thing you can combine with your grits is a particular non-carbonated soft drink called Delaware Punch, which, if you're visiting Woman's Hospital, can be found in the Coca-Cola vending machine on the 5th floor, by the elevator. That's Tower II, in case you're MapQuesting this.

My wife likes to tell the story about when her brother combined Delaware Punch and grits on a cross-country car trip back in the days when families could afford to drive across the country. This seemed like a comparable experiment to the Diet Coke and Mentos explosion, so I thought, why not? I'm already in a hospital! Sure, it's for women, but they'd have to take me for fear of a discrimination lawsuit.

There was no explosive reaction in my stomach, but I would definitely say it made for an interesting dining experience. I just hope the people sitting on the side of me can forgive me for spitting up pink grits all over them.


We all want the best for our children. But some people take this concept way too far.

Consider a man who may have gone bald at an early age. It happens. Now even though you and I know that the ladies will consider this young, bald man to look very "mature," and you and I may also know that the ladies like mature men, the bald man may have a different idea of maturity.

You can even point out to your completely hairless friend, "People sometimes shave their heads on purpose! Seriously! It's like, a trend or something! Nobody cares! Get over it! Dome Sweet Dome!"

But it's all for naught. You just can't help some people. Especially bald people.

So when the bald guy has his own children, he wants to make sure that they have a full mane of hair, frizzing out in all directions for the world to see and admire. This creates a niche market out of a parent's fear and self-loathing, and thus, you end up having a site like has your typical famous hairstyles-of-the-week: Donald Trump, Samuel L. Jackson, and my personal favorite, the Bob. They have the Lil Kim, as well, but why you would want to have your child look like Lil Kim is beyond me.

So don't worry, bald friends of mine! There's hope for your children! Also, remember that baldness is inherited from the mother's side, so if you really want your children to never go bald, look into marrying a woman with a mustache.

Tuesday, September 26, 2006

Boy Oh Boy!

I've officially been upgraded to Uncle 2.0! What's new in this version? Well, a new nephew, codenamed "Grant," has been thrown into the mix after 9 months in Beta. You may be asking yourself, but Bob, why does that increment your Uncle build an entire version? Why not just tack on a minor version, maybe upgrading to Uncle 1.1?

Because I'm also the godfather-in-law. That's cause for an upgrade!

Here are the specs on my new nephew:

Code name: Grant
Release date: 9/26/2006
Weight: 7 lb.
Length: 20 in.
Processor: Intel® Core™2 Duo 2.33 GHz processor T7600

As most of you know, babies are gifts from God. But Grant is extra-special - he's a birthday gift from God; Grant and his mother Jenn share the same release date. He's like a birthday gift that sleeps, eats and goes to the bathroom - like a digipet, only cuter! (If we can get him to watch football, he'll basically have all the functionality of Uncle 2.0, minus garbage duty and exterminator functionality.)

This is also a special day because this is the 150th post on the Tanory Tantrum. I think I'm up to four full-time readers now - thanks for reading!

Sunday, September 24, 2006

Top 10 Most Embarrassing Fashion Trends of All Time

Recently a couple of 10 ten lists caught my attention, one being the 10 ten ugliest, most embarrassing fashion trends of the past 25 years. After reviewing the list, I thought the author did a great job identifying and documenting today's current crappy trends, but I would have liked to have seen this type of list extended to include more of our history.

Therefore I am proud to present my choices for 10 ten worst fashion trends of all time, 4 of which I have been guilty of in the past 5 years (I'll let you guess which ones).

Honorable Mention: Sock Gloves

I threw in an Honorable Mention because I just really hate sock gloves. Although Britney looks good in this pic. Of course, this was pre-Cletus.

My arm smells like my foot omg!

10. Bra-less Old People

What's dumber than Barbar Streisand telling people to live in smaller houses to save electricity when she owns four houses over 10k square feet each? How about letting her ta-tas hang to the ground in recent picture of her showing off her Halloween costume.


9. The Speedo

The only time one should ever wear a speedo is if it has a Union Jack on it and one is battling Fembots.

An iStock photo seemed so much safer than an actual picture of a guy in a speedo.

8. The Loin Cloth

The loin cloth was fashionable at one time, and it still makes a comeback every Halloween or so. But the fact that it doesn't cover a man's rear is unforgivable.

No no, I'll go first! I don't want to look at your butt while hunting dinosaurs.

7. Dog Outfits

People who dress their animals up should be put on exhibit. You know who you are.

6. Futuristic Clothing

If this is what it will be like in the future, I hope our nuclear war with Iran, Russia, and China comes sooner rather than later. Not that I really care - I'll probably still be sitting at the computer naked, as always, when the house disintegrates around me.

5. The Classical White Wife Beater

A clear favorite of the type of communities that have spawned Britney and Cletus Spears, the wife beater is worth a thousand words - all vulgarities aimed at one's supposed lover's face.

Cletus rules!

4. The "Tucker Carlson is an Ass" Bow Tie

There really isn't enough space to go into why the bow tie is ridiculous, but just looking at the people who are wearing it nowadays should tell you everything you need to know about why this fashion trend is evil.

Tucker Carlson is an ass

3. The Medieval Tunic

Sure, it worked for Link the Legend of Zelda, but name just one other guy who looked good in a tunic. Since tights usually accompany a tunic, that makes this outfit unforgivable. Now go whip yourself, sinner!

The missing Link

2. The Business Suit

Long sleeve shirt, shiny shoes, and worst of all, the tie. The trifecta from Hell! Expensive, confining, and most of all, boring. When "relaxing" means unbuttoning the top button, I think I'll pass.

Suits = boring

And last but not least...

1. The Exposed Preggers Belly

Tuck that baby back under your shirt! And stop using that fake accent already!


Wallaby Milk - Whole or 2%?

Scientists think they've found the answer for penicillin-resistant bacteria: wallaby milk.

Now this story is a few months old, but I've refrained from commenting on it because I thought, surely, somebody would say the obvious:

It's not the answer. It's just the means to an end for an Uber-Bacteria.

Scientists are notoriously good at only giving people half the info that they need. They can't even tell us if coffee is good for us or not. One week it is, the next week it isn't. We hear that wine is good for the heart, yet hear little about how bad it is for the liver. Dressing up in a clown suit and getting jiggy in a port-o-let - where's the consistent answer? Science can't tell us for sure, at least not without talking to their experiment's sponsors first.

But this just goes to show you that most people don't know how bacteria work. Therefore, I feel that it is my duty to tell the world. (Hello, world!)

When you get a prescription from the doctor, you need to take the entire prescription. Don't just stop after you start feeling better. It may seem obvious to you that you should do what your doctor tells you - you probably watch ER and Grey's Anatomy.

Anyway, when you take only half of your prescription (for instance), you haven't killed off all of the bacteria that is causing your explosive diarrhea. You've probably only killed off two-thirds of it. This isn't enough bacteria to continue forcing your insides to violently blowing your o-ring.

But bacteria aren't the stupid-heads that some people make them out to be. Sure, they haven't won any Pulitzer Prizes in a couple of years, but that doesn't mean much to bacteria.

Bacteria basically go around and take a census of who died and figure out what killed them. Then they start to make a defense against them. So if bacteria see that their buddies and/or clones have died due to penicillin, they start to form an armor against it. Thus, penicillin-resistant bacteria.

Now I don't know how many wallabies there are in this world. I have three, so that might be .3% of the population for all I know. But I do know this: once our wallaby milk-resistant Uber-Bacteria overlords have begun to appear, we're pretty much screwed.

Scientists and journalists need to seriously start preaching to people about taking all of their damn medicine. If they don't, stop giving it to them - let Darwin has his way.

Or they need to invest in wallabies, like I am doing. Suckle, suckle $5.

The Curious Incident of the Cake in the Nighttime

My wife is an expert cake-baker. My wife and mother-in-law took a cake-decorating class, and my life has been much sweeter (pun intended) ever since. And although my wife has made some delicious cakes the past few months, I want to talk about one cake in particular that stands out to me.

It stands out because I just finished it tonight.

It wasn't intended for me; it wasn't intended for my household. It was a cake for a friend and coworker of my wife, who needed something good and tasty in her life at that particular moment. My wife, being the sweetie that she is, decided that she would show her support by baking a cake.

For some reason, some cakes that are baked in a bundt pan are placed upside down to cool. You hold the pan up by putting them on top of a bottle of oil or something, and then the fourth law of physics (pertaining to cakes) takes over. So that's what we did - we placed the pan on its head. You can't argue with physics.

I won't say that I tried to make the cake fall. I certainly didn't use my vast telekinetic powers, for fear of causing the cake to explode with my amazing mind bullets. But I may have accidentally bumped the island on which it sat. (We have our own island in the kitchen - we call it Tanory Island.)

The cake fell and exploded into a million little pieces, and a couple of rather large chunks.

My wife looked crestfallen. She certainly couldn't give the cake to her friend like this - she would have to bake another cake. And if she did have any moments of thinking she could pull the cake together, that went down the drain after I shoved the largest chunk of cake that I could find down my throat. Good luck getting that one back!

Friday, September 22, 2006

Super Tantrum

Every super hero needs a super villian. Every super blog needs an enemy as well. Thus the Tanory Tantrum is proud to introduce its very own arch-nemesis:

My brother.

My brother received his MBA from Tulane, and since LSU and "Tulame" are playing foosball this weekend, that technically makes my brother the perfect enemy.

I'll get you, and your little dog, too. Bwahaha!

I don't think my brother has a blog. I'm sure if he did create one, my parents would love it more than mine. Then my sister would want one, along with a mini-horse and a pot-bellied pig. This blog would then be left to entertain itself.

My brother is a chemical engineer, so I'd like to take this opportunity to make a chemistry joke:

One atom says to another, "I've lost an electron."

The other atom says, "Are you sure?"

The first one says, "I'm positive!"

That's as good as any chemistry joke is going to get.

Anyway, after years of patiently biding my time, I think I could take him in an all-out sibling rivalry. I will, however, consider a truce if he accepts the email subscription of the Tanory Tantrum that I so lovingly sent him.

The Dreaded Third Floor

Today we took a trip to the highest and third-most floor of our building. We've been in this building for two years but have been too scared to go up there - you never know what you're going to get when you allow a bunch of lawyers (I think the technical term is a "murder" of lawyers) to convene in one area.

But when the elevator doors opened, it was like we were in a different world - a world of carpet, mirrors, mood lighting and 50 cent softdrinks! It was truly the land of milk duds and honeybuns.

The third floor's vending machine also have Funyuns. We've asked our Junk Food Delivery Man to throw some Funyuns into the mix, but have yet to see the fried fruits of our labors. Maybe those blood-sucking lawyers on the third floor got wind of our campaign for Funyuns. Dang those Mosquito Men!

We'll see who lets them down the stairs the next time there's a fire drill!

Selling Out

Someone offered to buy the Tanory Tantrum from me for $130 million. I turned him down... he wanted me to work full time. Screw that, I'll sell out for less if I don't have to work anymore. Do I hear $10 million?

Not really, but that would be nice. Seriously I'll go as low as 9.

Okay, on to the point of this post. If you like my textual humor, you may enjoy perusing my custom line of fine designer clothes. Think of it like P. Diddy's "Sean John" with a shot of Banana Republic, mixed with Prada and Baby Gap - something for everyone. Except if you like high quality materials, then you should probably stay away.

I make shirts through this site called Zazzle. Zazzle is great - you make a design for a shirt, upload pictures or write text, do whatever you want. They take care of everything else. I like Zazzle better than Cafe Press, b/c with Zazzle you can allow your customers to customize their purchases - they change shirt sizes, styles, colors, even the text on the shirt. With Cafe Press, if you create a large yellow shirt, that's all your customers can buy - a large yellow shirt.

My only complaint against Zazzle is they took down my "Steve Spurrier is a Gamecock" shirt, which you could at one time buy at my incredibly popular site, I forgive you, Zazzle - let's hug it out.

The best part about Zazzle is that it costs you nothing. Actually, that's the second best part.

The best part is knowing that someone in this world may be wearing your product.

Consider the fact that the "best selling" t-shirt in my repertoire - with a total of two purchases - is my Suducku shirt. Imagine this - you're walking around campus and you see somebody wearing a shirt with a picture of a Sudoku board as a duck's head, with the words "Suducku!" underneath. If you are like me, you would probably strike up a conversation with this person, make him or her feel very comfortable and proud of their purchase, and then put him in a Full Nelson the moment he takes his eyes away from your large formidable stature.

This is the pride that I feel every day, knowing that three of my shirts have sold. (The other one was the "I Love Ground Chuck" shirt, which I hear is very popular with the ladies.)

I started making shirts after seeing a couple of girls with shirts that said, "Bitch," "Princess" and "Nerd." I thought, wow, that really cuts down on all the time getting to know someone - is this person a nerd? Is she really a princess? Her shirt says so, so it must be true.

Thus I created my first shirt, "My shirt must speak for me because I am a social retard." Making fun of your customers is not a good way to sell them stuff, but who knows, it might make a great gift for Christmas.

Thursday, September 21, 2006

The Soundtrack of Our Lives

Grey's Anatomy goofed. You might have missed it, but the Tanory Tantrum misses nothing!

In a flashback sequence to when Grey and Dr. McDreamy meet in a bar, the song that is playing on the radio / jukebox / 8-track in the bar is Gnarl Barkley's "Gone Daddy Gone." The album on which this song appears, St. Elsewhere, was released on May 9, 2006. As this is the second single off of this album, it would not have received any air time prior to the album's release.

This can only mean one of three things:

1. Grey's Anatomy musical director screwed up;

2. Grey's Anatomy takes place in the future or another dimension, in which case they are aliens and that would explain why Sandra Oh looks like an overgrown grasshopper; or most likely...

3. Nobody cares.

But we here at the Tanory Tantrum care. We are caring people. Well, technically one of us is a shitzu, but since his name is Soylent Green, and since Soylent Green is people, we can all be considered caring people.

My wife loves Grey's Anatomy, and I have to admit that I find it entertaining, but I thought this particular episode was a little too dramatic for me. Unless someone's head is exploding due to rebellious x-ray technicians turning their instruments of research and examination into instruments of Death, then I usually get kinda bored.

I also don't particularly care for Gnarl Barkley's first single, "Crazy." But I do like "Gone Daddy Gone." It deserves some respect.

Also, in a commercial for Lincoln Mercury Dealers during Grey's Anatomy, the background music was Morningwood's song, "Nth Degree." I take issue with this.

First off, the song Nth Degree makes you think of Morningwood (if you're a young, hip whippersnapper), and kids should not associate morning wood with Lincolns. I'm perfectly fine with kids associating Saabs, BMWs or Hummers to morning wood, but not Lincolns! This is an outrage. I refuse to let Lincolns merge into my lane from now on.

The moral of the story is, music is the soundtrack of our lives, and if you're going to play a song that's going to make me make mental associations with an event in my life and attach it to a particular timeframe, you'd better get your crap right. I don't want to remember the date that I ran around the living room in boots, a cape and red underpants screaming at the top of my lungs while trying to get my wife's attention as being several months or even years after the actual event.

We're watching! And we're listening! (We're basically like the NSA, only cuter.)

We're the Tanory Tantrum.

The Pizza Pail, a Pail with a Purpose

Family and friends, it may be time for an intervention.

I love pizza unconditionally. I've lived by this ethic; I've eaten by this ethic. I've negotiated trades with other entities to swap uneaten pizza for some of my green veggies, and have asked for calmness and patience when a pizza delivery has been late and the natives start to get restless. I consider myself a pizza connoisseur, and have even traveled to the oldest licensed pizzeria in the country. I am a staunch defender of pizza and all that is stands for.

But a rift in the ethos of my pizza existence has appeared.

Today I encountered the Pizza Pail, a tub of frozen pizzas that now appears in several fundraising efforts. The Pizza Pail's slogan is "A Pail with a Purpose." That purpose is apparently to destroy the hopes, dreams and taste buds of red-blooded, pizza-loving Americans.

To be fair, the Pizza Pail should not be expected to taste any worse than your run-of-the-mill frozen pizza. And it's not worse - it's just that, after being left to cool down, the pizza stopped being a pizza. It became a zombie pizza, a were-pizza, a vampiric, parasitic, congealed mess of cardboard and synthetic cheese that no human could ever confuse with being a pizza.

Today will always be remembered as the day when I met a pizza that I didn't like. I'd like for you to remove your caps, bow your heads, and let's have a moment of silence. An age has passed.

On another note, Crankston went to Schlotzsky's today and erroneously received a #4 (a BBQ Chicken Pizza with Onions and Jalapenos) instead of a #3 (a regular pizza that ordinary people would eat). After he obtained a free #3 and an apology in Russian, we all split the #4, and it did its job of taking the Pizza Pail taste out of our mouths. Sometimes you just have to fight fire with fire.

Tuesday, September 19, 2006

Iranian President Encourages Muslims to Rise Up Against SEC Refs

Iran's hard-line president, Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, addressed thousands of people outside the home of Rogers Redding, SEC coordinator of football officials. Leading the protest, Ahmadinejad shouted slogans, such as "Down with Redding!", "SEC Referees are Infidels!" and, proclaiming it to be the highlight of the day, "SEC Officials are in League With the IAEA."

Asked why he led the protest, Ahmadinejad was quoted as saying, "Did you even watch the LSU / Auburn game this past Saturday? I mean, come on, the referees are total infidels! They blew every call, those pestilent fleas! May a thousand locusts eat their Thanksgiving dinner minutes before the family arrives!"

On the topic of Redding's view of the officiating, Ahmadinejad said, "I respectfully disagree with how he saw it. I understand the position he’s in and I hope we can go forward. Just kidding, I want to cut his f*#!ing head off and drink his pig's blood! Death to Israel and the Auburn-paid referee zebras! I spit on you!"

SEC spokesman Charles Bloom declined to comment on Ahmadinejad's position. Bloom said the conference office would be issuing no statement on the plays and that no discipline for any members of Saturday’s officiating crew was necessary because the SEC was standing by the calls made in the game. Bloom did admit that several of the SEC Referee staff were in fact infidels, but that their head tax dues were taken out of their salaries at the beginning of the NCAA football season.

Les Miles, head coach of the LSU Fighting Tigers, has his own opinions on the referees' jobs.

"I believe wholeheartedly that the officiating is well-intended," Miles said, still clearly angry over the entire situation. “Rogers Redding does a tremendous job reviewing and critiquing.

"He is," Miles continued, "a total A-hole and I'm going to write a very stern letter to him to discontinue this practice of illegal refereeing."

Miles said his practice of writing stern letters is a well-learned lesson taught to him by his mentor and first football coach, UN Secretary-General Kofi Annan.

While LSU and Muslim furor over the malicious calls tainted an otherwise beautiful day in Louisiana, Pope Benedict XVI issued a statement of calm, calling on peace and rationality to win the day.

"A 14th century football coach was talking to the head referee of an NCAA game during halftime," said Benedict, "when the coach told the referee, 'Show me one thing that Notre Dame brought to the game and there all you will find is vanity, Rudy, and a lot of drunk Irish. Well, I must admit that they have a pretty good physics program, but what have they done recently that's so hot?'"

French President Jacques Chirac looked down his nose at this statement, saying that sanctions against the SEC referees should not be considered at this time, and then he ate some very old and moldy cheese and drank himself silly until his cirrhosis started acting up again.

Venezuelan President Hugo Chavez promised to cut oil supplies to the SEC Referees Union Headquarters, in a signature move designed to show solidarity with Iranian President Ahmadinejad. In his press conference, Chavez said, "Did you see that movie 'Y Tu Mamá También?' That was a good one, eh?'"

President Bush urged Congress and the members of the UN to vote on a resolution making the Texas Longhorns the greatest team in the world, surpassing that of all current and past NFL, NCAA, NBA, NHL, MLS and NASCAR teams, and also ahead of the New Zealand Black Cocks. Bush strongly urged legislation and asked members of Congress and the UN to remember that poll rankings were determined by a total number of yards, but that a 7th defensive ranking may have just meant that the other team started out with such good field position upon each possession that the total number of yards to score may have been less than that of a better team because the opposing team had less yards to get to the end zone. He then ended with a signature "Hook'm Horns" hand signal. His double-A batteries were later taken out and he was subsequently placed in a supply closet on the third floor of the UN building.

Reminiscing on Rama's Chelsea's

Today's Food Club Outing was supposed to be to Rama's, which is conveniently closed during lunch. So we rearranged our plans (with the help of Allison and Anil - thanks gang!) and went to Chelsea's Cafe instead.

Chelsea's was great. The waitress was very nice, the music alternated between Acid Jazz and Johnny Cash (always a great combination), and the food was scrumptious! I had the Chicken Fried Chicken, which came with mashed potatoes (expertly mashed!) and what I am told are green beans, although I thought they were asparagus. I've never seen green beans that long, and I still refuse to believe they weren't asparagus. But nonetheless, they were green, so they had to die a slow and painful death in the pit of my stomach. Die, veggies!

I went with the Chicken Fried Chicken after asking the waitress what she preferred and getting the four most expensive items as her response. I'm sure they were great, but I'll go for the cheap, fried stuff. And since it all tastes like chicken anyway... might as well get the chicken. Oh yeah, and all of the items with spinach were a no-go, as we were trying to avoid e. coli on this trip. Everyone knows that deep frying kills e. coli - I'm just trying to stay healthy!

Crankston had Tomato, Basil and Shrimp Linguini. It also came with a single carrot, as it's important to get your beta-carotene. The carrot was free of charge, by the way. I call Shenanigans!

Shannon procured the Pesto Cream Ravioli, as she had already tried the Asparagus Ravioli. John D had a burger - medium well with no mayo. Wayne also had a burger, but his was a Swiss and Mushroom Burger. He finished off his meal with a new and exciting bathroom reporte.

The Bathroom Reporte

Next up the bathroom reporte. We are elite; We are professional; We are the Tanory Tantrum Food Club. As a member of the food club, I have been given the task of reporting on the conditions of the bathrooms of our food club extravaganzas. Today, we ventured to eat at a restuarant called Chelsea's Cafe. The food was great, but now to why I am blogging, the bathrooms.

I have to say I relly liked the music by Johnny, Cash that is. Now the bathroom, just totally baffled me at first. Why would you put a counterweight on a toilet seat? So you dont have to touch it of course. Now thats ingenius. It should be since there was no hand soap. The urinal was a little high, as pointed out by our very hairy blog admin. But it was deep, so that cut back on the splashback. There was no bad smell that would make you horribly sick. No poetry on the walls, which was disappointing. It had a stall with a working door, which was nice and provided some
privacy. But all in all, it wasn't a crapper. It gets 9 wipes outta 10.

That's it for this Tanory Tantrum Food Outing. Next time I'll send out a Tanory Tantrum Reconnaissance Mission to scope out the dates and times that our next target restaurant is open.

Fax Ahoy, Mateys!

Avast, ye demon copy machine! Taste the wrath of my sword!

Today is International Talk Like a Pirate Day. As such, I would like t' recommend th' Davy Jones special today at Rama's. We will pillage the village and burn the peasants! And make the Pad Thai our loot! Aargh!

Hmm... maybe pillaging the village is more along the lines of vikings. When is Talk Like a Viking Day?

Thanks for the link, Number One!

Monday, September 18, 2006

That Ain't Where That Buggy Goes, Boy!

Last night my wife and I took a trip down to the new and improved LeBlanc's grocery store in P-ville. Fancy! They've made the center aisle full of wine, beer and hard liquor, and have even made it big enough so even the drunkest of stupors could be supported without ever hitting a case of Michelob Ultra - good job, gang!

I have so many good memories at the ol' LeBlanc's. Here's one that sticks out (queue the Dream Sequence music):

I pulled up to LeBlanc's late one night. An old man was walking back to his truck, pushing a shopping cart. He happened to be parked right next to me. When he was finished unloading the cart, it was clear that he was going to hop right on into his truck and leave the shopping cart out in the middle of the parking lot.

Right about this time, another old man - this one older than the first (old people love LeBlanc's at night - all those whippersnappers are out partying, playing loud rock'n roll music and smoking marijuana cigarettes) - walks by the man getting into his truck. The older man stops, turns to the guy getting into his truck and says:

"That ain't where that buggy goes, boy."


Now I was taught to respect my elders. I was also taught to put my "buggy" back after I'm done. So I was cheering the old guy on. But apparently the other old coot had something different in mind. He responded:

"That's where it's going today."

At this point, the old old guy starts walking towards the regular old guy. The fact that he walked so slow just added to the tension - it was like it was in slow motion. Every so often you'd hear theme music when the doors to the store opened.

I think of that event every time I go to LeBlanc's:

"That ain't where that buggy goes, boy."
"That's where it's going today."

It just goes to show you, even when you're adult, you've still got elders to mind. And when you're old, you can still be a bad-ass parking lot ninja.

All I know is, when I had had my way with LeBlanc's, there was no shopping cart in the middle of the parking lot.

The Tanory Tantrum Apologizes: Part 1

The Tanory Tantrum would like to apologize for listing some incorrect "facts" in the last post:

1. My father-in-law was an Electrician's Mate on the USS Oriskany, not an engineer. However, he did become an engineer later in life, partly due to the GI Bill which allowed him to go to college. (He went to ULL back when it was USL but we'll forgive him.)

2. My father-in-law served in Vietnam, and made three tours of duty.

3. The C-47 that was loaded into the National WWII Museum in New Orleans did not have to pay full price for its ticket - it got a student discount.

The Tanory Tantrum is glad to make this apology, and welcomes the opportunity to skew your personal story several times over, as long as you continue to read.

Sunday, September 17, 2006

Another Weekend in N.O. Without Getting Shot

Another weekend has gone by, this time with us traveling to New Orleans, where the only shots in the streets were the Bourbon and Jim Beam going down in a blazing toast to our good friend Mark, who is soon to become an official part of the family.

Not that he hasn't been a part of the family for some time now. In fact, he's been a part of the family for longer than I have. But not on paper. Wanna wrestle it out?

On Saturday, Mark's brother Tim let us hooligans down to his home in Mississippi, which was a beautiful house overlooking a canal. After listening to LSU lose to Auburn, we had to take turns talking each other out of throwing ourselves into the canal. I actually made it over the party's goal line defense, going head-first into the water, but I was okay - fat floats.

On Sunday we hit the D-Day Museum, now dubbed the WWII Museum. After recently reading a couple of books on the Pacific Theatre, notably Cryptonomicon and Flyboys, I was anxious to see the part of the museum dealing with the war in the Pacific. I had been to the museum once before, but after spending 3 hours there, I only saw the parts dealing with the invasion of Normandy. You could spend an entire day there and not see everything. Check it out the next time you're in New Orleans and are not boozed up, flashing for beads or being shot at - it's great!

My father-in-law was an engineer in the Navy, onboard the USS Oriskany. This wasn't during WWII, but it was very interesting getting to talk about the battleships and planes with someone who really knew all about them. The Oriskany was also the plane that John McCain lifted off from when he was shot down over Vietnam. See, the Tanory Tantrum is not only entertaining, but it's educational as well! If you get that question right on Jeopardy or Millionaire, be sure to mention the Tantrum.

We also witnessed the museum loading up a C-47 Skytrain. We didn't think it would make it through the front doors, but after they took off the wings, gathered 20 crewmen, and edged it in very carefully, it finally made its way inside. It still had to pay for a ticket.

In conclusion, LSU will beat "Tulame" this weekend by a score of 52-3, and the Saints will extend their lead in the division until Hell has officially frozen over. Also, New Orleans still remains covered in chocolate.

Saturday, September 16, 2006

Transformers: More Than Meets the Eyes and Ears

I'm very excited about the upcoming Transformers movie. So far the Transformers website doesn't have much, but soon it will morph into a battle bot and strafe all of the lesser blogs in the blogosphere. (The blogosphere is between Earth's troposphere and stratosphere.)

And although I'm excited for the movie, I'm even more excited for the soundtrack! Check out these lyrics to the animated Transformers movie's soundtrack:

Something evil's watching over you
Comin' from the sky above
And there's nothing you can do

Prepare to strike
There'll be no place to run
When your caught within the grip
Of the evil Unicron

More than meets the eye
Robots in Disguise

Transformers was ahead of their time! Just look at how they've changed Unicorn to Unicron - it's like the nerdy computer guy's L33T language (pronounced, "elite" for all of you non-nerds), only from the 80's.

By the way, Wikipedia's article on the L33T language is longer than its article on the Troposphere. Go figure - the Troposphere has only been here for either 4 billion or 6 thousand years, depending on your scientific / religious beliefs.

Those lyrics, by the way, are by the band Lion. Lion, as you may remember, was an offshoot of the Care Bear family, whose full name was Brave Heart Lion. He was like the William Wallace of the Care Bear family, before he started to make movies and drunken diatribes against the Jews.

My wife took cake decorating classes, and she already knows that I want a Transformers cake for my bday. Now we'll just have to wait and see which side she's on - will it be an Autobots or a Decepticons cake?

Thursday, September 14, 2006

Auditing the Coffee

Someone is not refilling the coffee carafes. I will find you. You can't escape from me. I will have my revenge!

Actually, I'm at training this week, but I know someone is not refilling the carafes at work. I'm onto you, you coffee scum!

I suggest we audit the coffee. Put those people to work on something useful!

While we're at it, we should audit the soap. Our coffee always tastes like soap. The bubbles in the coffee acts like tiny prisms, reflecting caffeinated light to the two corners of my cubicle. I want to know who's behind this atrocity!

It's not Aaron, as it's against his nature. Nobody who blogs about the Bible could ever commit such a heinous act.

It's not Wayne, the Waynekster, DJ MC Mic Master Wild Wayne the Lyrical Genius. He's too busy writing reports. We keep him busy doing all of our work, as he's the newest member on our team. We haze because we care!

Shannon drinks coffee with us, so she's not under suspicion. Imad is too nice to do something like that. Naveen and Neeraj are too busy working. Crankston - well, it's possible, but he usually gets in after our first coffee break. That leaves...

Upper Management! I knew it!

Wednesday, September 13, 2006

Chimes East: Dinner and a Show

Today is my sister's birthday - Happy Bday, Reba! - so we celebrated at the Chimes on Coursey. My sister and I both had a crabcake sandwich, my wife had the chicken breast & poe-tay-toes, and some guy in the middle of the parking lot got a bonified ass-whupping.

But I'm getting ahead of myself! Let me start at the beginning!

It all started exactly a quarter of a century ago, when my baby sister was born, thus making me the middle child and sending me into a hopeless spiral of discontent and malnourished emotions.

Fast forward to the present (minus a couple of hours) where we're sitting in the outside seating area at Chimes East, watching a girl in a purple shirt yelling and swinging her arms at some tall skinny guy about to get beat down. Only he didn't know it yet. Da da duuuum!

I had been watching these two characters for a good half hour before starting the "fight" chant. You know how it goes... "fight, fight, fight, FIGHT, FIGHT!" There's a whole clap sequence, too, but I'm sure you get my drift.

So like good listeners, they start fighting. Then some other woman pulls up into a handicap spot, and the guy starts fighting with her through the driver-side window. All fifteen people at our table noticed this escalating situation after the people fighting in the car accidentally laid on the horn. The bouncer, who looked like Dwight Shrute's bobble-head doll with sideburns, could only look on and light up another cigarette. The Chimes prides itself on security.

Which was a good thing! Because the next thing I know, my friend Trey, who is a Baton Rouge police officer, has the guy's arms behind his back, bent over on the hood of the car. The bouncer probably would have gotten knocked out, whereas Trey is an ultimate bad-ass. Plus he had the Tanory Tantrum's full might behind him, so you know the assailant probably wet himself several times. I only showed myself after Trey had everything under control - I didn't want to get in the way.

While the guy was bent over the hood of the car, the woman in the car turned on the window wipers, causing blunt trauma to the guy's head. She may have sprayed soap and water in his eyes, but I couldn't really tell from my vantage point. After a couple of minutes, several cops were on the scene, and Trey's dinner was getting cold.

The woman in the car, it turns out, was the guy's wife. The guy had been in the Chimes, cheating on his wife, when the girl in the purple shirt, who happened to be his wife's cousin, caught him making out over a Fried Chimes Club on a crouissant. It was the butler, in the kitchen, with the candlestick!

So my sister had a great birthday.

Oh, and we saw an old man pull up in front of the Chimes and escort a very tall, very blond female escort in, only to leave seconds later. Apparently he was just teasing her. She's got to earn that Shrimp and Corn soup!

We also saw two old people make out. We started the Make Out chant, which is just like the Fight Chant, but you yell "Make Out!"

So here's to all of the overworked, underpaid Baton Rouge police officers out there. Thank you for all of your hard work. We do appreciate you. Especially Trey, because he is, as I think I've already mentioned, a bad-ass.

Here's to the guy who got his ass whipped. Sorry your life is in ruins, but it made for some great entertainment. Next time, try making out with your mistress in a less-crowded area where one or more of your cousins-in-law aren't working.

And here's to my sister. May you have a wonderful birthday week, and we'll see you next year, same place, same time, same seats.

Tuesday, September 12, 2006

Cool Beans!

Did you know that vanilla comes from a bean? It's true!

That means that a serving of vanilla ice cream now counts as eating a vegetable.

It also means that I will now stop eating vanilla-flavored products. Death to veggies!

Chocolate also comes from a bean, the cocoa bean, which comes from a tree, the cocoa tree. It grows in a city, cocoa city. So chocolate is also now officially classified as being disgusting as well. Is nothing sacred?

What does this mean for you, the consumer?

Expect stocks for candy companies to plummet. Nobody likes vegetable-flavored candy.

It also means that eating healthy can be fun - be sure to look for Lean Cuisine vanilla milkshakes, available in stores this Winter.

Want to try a different way to eat those sweet beans? Try refried cocoa beans, with a side of vanilla extract - delicious!

The cocoa tree originated in South America, and came up through Central America, along with cocaine, dictyoglomus hermophilum, and Jorge Luis Borges.

Now that you have all of this great information, feel free to stop referring to people of different races as Vanilla and Chocolate, and you can instead consider ourselves all part of the Plant Kingdom.

Yearnin' for Learnin'

This week I'm in training. The best thing about this week's training class is that our trainer is not in the room with us. He is just a voice coming through the speaker phone. Kind of like Pulse, but without the ravenous demons from another dimension.

It's like a voice in my head showing me how to do stuff, instead of the usual voice in my head telling me how great it would be if I would just finish off the ice cream already.

I think I like this remote learning concept. For starters, I don't have to wear pants when I go to training. I mean, sure, I do anyway, but if I want to come pantless tomorrow then there's nobody here that would care. Well, there are the other people in my training class, but besides them, nobody would care!

I like remote learning so much that I think I might enroll in an online university. Then it would be so much easier to skip class!

Taste Sensations!

When I'm really hungry, just hearing or reading about a tasty dish will make my mouth water. But something came to my inbox today that really made my saliva glands kick into high gear.

From: LDI Cafeteria





I especially like the "Lazana," "Broccilli," and "Sauage." Mmmm, mmmm! Also, I'm happy the Chicken Breast isn't "grilled."

Maybe we should go here instead of Rama's for the next Tanory Tantrum Food Outing!

Monday, September 11, 2006

Caffeine Dreams

Last night I drank 16 oz. of coffee way past the cut-off mark. Consequently, I am now in a zombie-like trance of perpetual twilight.

My default state is to drink just enough coffee to where my heart is about to, but does not, asplode. I get my exercise my running to the bathroom every five minutes. It's a great health plan - you get your aerobic excercises in double-time.

But today I am in training. Lucky for me, my trainer is at a remote location, and we are all just following along on a screen, via remote desktop. Since we're interacting with our trainer via conference call, we can just put our phone on mute and then snore away. If only I could go to sleep.

Instead, the pull of the full moon is calling my name. Not only am I zombie-like, but I'm turning into a werewolf. My happy trail is already extra furry. My fingernails are either slowly turning into large talons, or else I just need to clip'm - good lawd! I still have hardly any chest hair - my dad said that spicy pasta would put hair on my chest but he lied! All lies!

I guess as long as I don't turn into Mothra, that crap-happy Godzilla reject, then it's all good.

Back to training! Until next time!

Friday, September 08, 2006

A Couple of Bad Apples

I was in the grocery store buying apples and it hit me:

What kind of apple did Adam and Eve eat?

Because I sure as Heck don't want one of those! Those are the Sin Apples!

I bet it was a Granny Smith one. I've always suspected something fishy about those. It's the green skin - the color of sin!!!

However, Red Delicious apples do have their merits. For one thing, they are delicious, which would cause temptation. Secondly, they are red, which is the color of the Devil. Third, they would be easier to find against a green, leafy backdrop.

I personally wouldn't eat anything that a snake was crawling around on. Weren't Adam and Eve afraid of snakes? Adam got to name all the creatures, didn't he? Surely he must have known something about poisonous venomous fangs.

Come to think of it, it was probbaly a Macintosh. Maybe it was an Apple IIGS.

I guess there is no real need to worry about eating any Forbidden Fruit nowadays though. An apple seed's best chance of taking root is for the apple to be eaten and passed through the digestive system, leaving only the seed (and some fertilizer) behind. So I guess the laws of Evolution have taken care of this one for us.

I just read that the Forbidden Fruit may have been a fig, grape, wheat or citron. I fail to believe that Original Sin was caused by barley and hops, and have no faith in Absolut Forbidden Fruit causing all of the woes of the world.

Since we'll never really know, I'll just have to stop eating fruit altogether to make sure I don't eat any of the Sin Fruits. Hey, maybe it was a veggie - we can't take any chances!

Postponing Food Club Outing #4

Apparently somebody at my work thinks I need to train, like a dog, monkey or lesser employee. "So be it!" I yelled, shaking my fist in the air, "I will attend this so-called 'training' outside of work for an entire week and treat it as an educational vacation, or edvacation in laymen's terms!"

Unfortunately, this means postponing our Food Club Outing #4 to Rama's. Feel free to go if you were really planning on it... just make sure to send me some pictures of the delicious food and have Wayne do the bathroom report. That's all I ask!

Old and busted date: Tuesday, September 12th.

New hotness date: Tuesday, September 19th.

We'll still go at 11:30 in the AM. I will update the previous Food Club post to avoid any confusion. Thank you for your cooperation.

Thursday, September 07, 2006

Mothra, the Red-Headed Step-Child of the Godzilla Franchise

I've always liked movies dealing with monsters and/or mythology. Jason and the Argonauts, Clash of the Titans, King Kong... there's just something about a gargantuan creature wreaking havoc on the peasants that is just plain awesome.

I like when monsters have plausible beginnings. For instance, Godzilla is the byproduct of radioactivity left-over from atomic bombs. Hurray! And don't get me started on David Bowie's Goblin King in Labyrinth. Anyone who can trap Jennifer Connelly in a maze is a hero in my book.

But then you have characters like Mothra.

Mothra is a miserable excuse for a monster. All Mothra's lazy ass does is fly around, shooting poisonous dust and electricity at Godzilla. Yawn. Where's my mothballs? I know I have my tennis racquet bug zapper around here somewhere....

I also heard rumors that Mothra tried to pollinate some male flowers. Oh no he di' int!

The only way somebody is going to be afraid of a humongous gay moth is if there is a sweatshop nearby that is cranking out fashionable wool shirts.

My kind of monster is more like... oh, say... SpaceGodzilla.

SpaceGodzilla is able to travel through time at mach 3 and can create Gravity Tornados in deep space. Apparently Mothra had something to do with SpaceGodzilla getting created, but Mothra is still a little bitch. Did I mention SpaceGodzilla has a crystal fortress?

So thanks again, Greece and Japan, for letting me enjoy all of your monstrosities! I can't wait for the next big summer blockbuster, "Gangsta Monstahs": the West Side featuring King Kong, Cobra Commander and Katie Couric vs. the East Side with Godzilla, Bruce Lee and a Chinese paper dragon.

And So It Begins

I hate to say "I told you so," but it all happened as I predicted: Etiquette has once again tarnished the reputation of a fine, outstanding citizen.

If Katie Couric would have read last week's Tanory Tantrum on Etiquette, she whould have known how rabid these Etiquette fascists get once Autumn rolls around. So just what faux pas did Madame Couric incur?

Some would say the worst of the lot: wearing white after Labor Day.

I know, I know, I feel the same way that you do - I will never again watch Katie Couric. If she can't get her crap straight on her first night after having so much time to prepare, how can we trust her to broadcast the news? I mean, if she can't even dress herself according to society's standards, then she's just a good-for-nothing, hot-legged woman with a white jacket and a lot of money! Who needs all that baggage?

In reality, Couric shouldn't shoulder all of the blame. It all comes down to economics. Some retailer tried to dump all of their end-of-season Whites in order to obtain higher third quarter profits, and Couric just got caught in the crossfire after her stylist threw an Etiquette Grenade down her pants.

I say we give her another chance to prove herself worthy by wearing something off-white. We know you can do it, Katie!

Wednesday, September 06, 2006

The Birth of a Nation-State

The Tanory Tantrum is proud to announce the birth of a new baby website,, which weighed in at 40.2kb and 19".

While there is no baby shower in the works, feel free to send us snippets of things that you really suck at, so we can tell the world all about how not to do stuff. Because, as you probably know, we do everything so well that it looks like it's going to be really hard for us to find anything to write about.

birth announcement of

I think my first entry will be, How Not to Blog. Or maybe, How Not to Blog While Wearing Pants. Oh, the fun we'll have!

Tuesday, September 05, 2006

Food Club Outing #4: Rama Restaurant

Note: Date has been changed from September 12th to September 19th.

The Capitol City's highest ranked blog since 1867 will once again host a Food Club Outing to visit another exciting and lesser known location amonst Baton Rouge's elite cuisinaries.

You may be asking yourself, Food Club Outing #4? What happened to #3?!

Well, since we went to DiGiulio Brother's in honor of Jerry the Microsoft Guy, that technically counted as food outing #3. We could have slid by without it being counted, but Wayne's bathroom report made it official. So onto #4! Who needs consecutive numbers, anyway?

This time we will be visiting Rama, a Thai restaurant. We can only hope it is as tasty as Yum Yum Bangkok 1.

Here are the details:
Rama Restaurant
2919 Perkins Rd
Baton Rouge, LA 70808-2249

Date: Tuesday, September 19
Time: 11:30 in the AM

I would post a map, but since it's in the exact location as the last three places we've eaten, I think you get the point by now. If you have happened to come across this blog by accident and would like to have lunch with total strangers but do not know the location of this restaurant, feel free to MapQuest the crap out of this thing and meet us there. On a related note, Wayne will once again be in charge of the Bathroom Report.

Friends and family are welcome to join us!

Another Successfully Day Without Labor

This weekend was eventful. For starters, we went to the Blanco Bowl, where LSU trounced Ooh La La 45 - 3. It's the first time that ULL has scored on LSU in a couple of decades - Blanco must be proud that it happened on her watch!

Shaquille also stopped by to say hi. He helped LSU solely by being there, first because it made the crowd noisier so ULL couldn't hear as well, and second because he ate two of ULL's starting defensive line-up. Shaq attack!

While at the game I sat with my wife, her family, and my good friend Jay. During the 4th quarter's presentation of the "Athlete of the Week," Jay stripped to a one-piece LSU track outfit, stood up, and gave the crowd a wave. It was the most exciting play of the entire day, besides the Jim Beam and Coke we had before the game. It was kind of disconcerting that he never put on the rest of his clothes again, but we still had a great time.

My family and I then went to the Beau Rivage for its grand reopening after Katrina. New carpets, new beds, new paint - same old bad luck at the Black Jack table! It was good to be back!

Actually, the Mississippi gulf coast got smacked pretty hard by Katrina, and you really never hear a lot about it. But despite all of the damage that they endured, they've managed to clean up most of the rubble. There are still a lot of empty lots where buildings once stood, but they've made a lot of great progress. Maybe New Orleans should send a delegation to take notes....

On the way back home we stopped at the Gulfport outlet stores, where my wife and sister spent whatever money was not handed over to the casino, and I bought a new wallet. I definitely think I got the best deal - my wallet is wireless, has a fully customizable photo gallery and a built-in financial center, retains my personal information, and is even capable of holding actual money! Suck it, Old Wallet!

I'm sure that DJ MC Mic Master Wild Wayne (The Lyrical Genius) will be happy to know that I finally watched Clerks 2. It was all that I hoped it could be and more!

I also saw "Click," starring Adam Sandler. My wife and I saw Adam Sandler promoting this movie when we went to the Daily Show with Jon Stewart, but I really had no interest in seeing it. It definitely beat all of my expectations. It was so good and had such a great message that I had to wipe a tear away using my wife's sleeve and blow my nose on my sister's pillow.

Oh, and Happy Labor Day! Thanks again, Mom, for the 28 hours of labor!