Lard diet, the only solution.

Passport photos and more

I just got my new passport and I am absolutely disgusted with the picture.  Rather than hide my shame, I've decided to just show it to the masses.  First, here is my old passport photo:

I used to hate this picture, but now I like it because I can compare it to my new passport photo.  I think my new passport photo makes me look like Pogo, the clown.  Pogo, of course, was John Wayne Gacy, the infamous murderer.  Here is a picture of him:

I really should have chosen a color photo (you'll see why below).  However, I find his hat in this picture particularly disturbing.  Clowns are creepy.  It goes without saying this is especially true when they are mass murders.

And here is my new passport photo:

Luckily, the passport lines obscure the overall effect of the picture, but you can tell.  Yes, indeed, I do have my lower lip sticking out as if to pout.  The photo does also add many shades of red to my face adding to the clown-like effect.  If I don't think of John Wayne Gacy, then I'm liable to think of Droopy the dog. 

In other news, I picked up pizza today from Cafe Verdi.  (I know, I know, from the picture, I clearly don't need pizza).  Anyway, I like the Cafe Verdi pizza, it is cheap and it tastes great.  There are some drawbacks though.  First, the place smells horrible.  This isn't a problem if you take it to go.  Second, I noticed a couple of these hung up high on the walls:

Evil eye protection amulets.  Then I noticed that they spoke some sort of Eastern European language that I couldn't make out.  They're gypsies...dirty, foul-mouthed, mean, no tipping gypsies.  I hate gypsies.  I've had too many experiences with these horrible people at the blackjack tables.  I'm torn between my love of good, cheap pizza and the generalized hatred of an already persecuted people.

Further tales of the world's worst vegetarian

So, I've decided to take the next step in becoming the world's worst vegetarian. This next step actually includes excluding meat from my diet. Isn't that a funny sentence, "includes excluding"? One exception is seafood, which I don't really eat very often anyway. I'm also allowed to eat lamb chops, which I never get, but love oh so much. I can eat pepperoni, because it is part of my favorite food in the world. The other item I can eat is bacon, delicious, good-for-you bacon.

I'm sick, so last night I had chicken noodle soup, but ate around most of the chicken. When I've tried to become a vegetarian before, it always meant doing away with all meat and eating any minuscule amount of meat meant failure. Now with my new "worst vegetarian" program, I don't care. I've reduced meat intake greatly and that's good enough for me.

"But why?" you might ask or maybe you won't ask and are rather just reading along, bored out of your mind, thinking about how much longer this post is going to be, wondering if I know how to use a comma, and if you should even bother adding a comment at all. So, let's say you didn't ask. I'll ask for you, "but why become a vegetarian at all? Is it health reasons? Is it ethical reasons? Is it environmental reasons?" The answer is "yes and also because I don't really like meat that much". The only think I'll miss terribly is tacos and burgers and I think you can see the health benefits of not eating those items. I've also cut out deep fried foods, because I've eaten one too many french fries and I'm very sick of them. They're everywhere. Every single meal, anywhere in Vegas, comes with French Fries. I've eaten enough of them to satisfy me for life. (The exception to this is that I can eat tempura, yum).



On my rampage to become a mediocre vegetarian, I bought a Burt's Bees sample pack. (I know it seems unrelated, but there is a loose association there. You gotta admit that.) I tried all of the products and they all smell great, but I think some of them are pretty useless. For example, the cuticle creme, I just don't understand why I need to keep my cuticles moist. I guess it's a girl thing. Also, I think the hand salve is a waste of space. My favorite item is the citrus facial scrub. It smells like orange pekoe tea with roses and my face feels coated with moisture after using it. We're all about moisture here in Las Vegas.

Hummus

I love hummus, but I don't like the dried hummus mixes that you can buy in the store. I also don't like the pre-made hummus that you can buy in the store. I like my hummus nice and thin and they prefer the thick hummus with strange flavors. So, I decided to make my own hummus. Lo and behold, there are a ton of recipes for hummus and they are all different. I'm really a freak about recipes in that I can't deviate from them one iota. That makes me a horrible, meticulous cook. I ended up creating my own hummus recipe and dare I say, it's a keeper. Here it is as follows: (I'm actually posting this so I don't lose it. Although, it is pretty easy to remember)

1 can (15 oz) garbanzo beans (put the "juice" aside for later)
1/2 tsp. Cumin
2 Tbs. Lemon Juice
3 cloves garlic, minced
1/3 cup tahini
Olive Oil

Put everything beside juice and olive oil in a food processor. Mix it up. Add "juice" to get desired consistency (nice and thin). Put in a dish and drizzle olive oil over it. Yummmmmmmmmm.

My Fascist Eating Experience

So, Greg's parents were very kind in taking me to the Tournament of Kings at the Excaliber Hotel and Casino in beautiful Las Vegas.

This was a belated birthday gift and I really did appreciate it. The tickets are $55 each and that includes dinner. Let's talk about the food first. Actually, let's talk about Greg's mother first. I call her the dairy queen. Before leaving, she made sure to put a ziploc full of butter in her purse as well as a ziploc full of ketchup. She heard that butter was not provided and being that she occasionally eats just plain butter, well that is just not acceptable. Who thinks of things like this before going out to dinner? This isn't the first time she's done it either.

So, dinner consisted of a small serving of tomato soup...oops I mean Dragon's Blood soup served in a little plastic bowl that you drink out of. Next comes a cornish game hen, cold broccoli, a slightly stale dinner roll, and three large freezer burnt potato wedges. All of this you eat with you hands. The cornish game hen was actually not bad and I don't like cornish game hen.

The beginning of the show consisted of Merlin and a small man showing the audience the proper way to cheer. I hate audience participation, let alone participation the requires pre-determined cheering. We were required to yell "Hazaa!" and raise our hands. We were required to pound the table with our hen-greased palms. We were required to raise our drinks, say "Hear, hear", take a sip and then say "ahhh". We were also required to cheer whenever our section was mentioned. We were sitted in "Hungary". Each section was given a king. Everyone cheered when their king was presented. When France was presented, the rest of the crowd (not in France) booed. I personally don't like Parisians, but the people that I met from Lyons were quite nice. I think the France-hating thing is old. A lot of people don't even know why they are suppose to hate France. Next come the wenches, obviously all former cheerleaders. They would stand in front of you and "encourage" everyone to cheer the correct cheers. It was like having your own private Nazi watch over you. If you didn't cheer, you were singled out and given a stern look. Then the kings had a tournament that included jousting. Interesting to note that the King of Russia was a cheater. He would hit people when they were down and pull dirty tricks. The winner was the King of France, to my personal satisfaction.

The kings whenever they rode or walked by their section would try to get their section to cheer. Our king, the King of Hungary, would just smile and shout "Hungary". I noticed that the King of Austria would look at his subjects and simply glare at them and wave his hand upwardly to get them shout louder. We had a good king even though he performed horribly in the tournament.

Then there was the King of Dragon, who wasn't in the Tournament. He could shoot fire from his hands and therefore was my favorite. He of course ended up being killed. We were reminded by our Nazi Cheerleaders to "boo" him at the appropriate times. Secretly, I was cheering for him though.

Then there were acrobats, a coronation, and some indoor fireworks to round the deal off.

Buffet Dream

I just had a dream where I was at a buffet and it was really busy. They didn't have enough workers, so I decided to help out as a cocktail server. So, I walked around this busy place and asked, "Can I get you anything?...Cocktails...Anything from the bar?" One gentleman asked for a "70's" espresso. I knew there was no such thing, but I just smiled and said that I would get him one. I figured I could just get him a regular espresso, but wear polyester or something when I brought it. He was nice and foreign. I guessed that if I didn't bring a "70's" espresso, a regular one when you're on vacation in another country wouldn't be too much of a shock.

Another man asked for a ham sandwich. I was shocked and said that I served cocktails and he angrily replied, "I'm sure they have ham sandwiches here. Get me a ham sandwich!" He was very cross and I figured how hard could it be. Well, I couldn't find an espresso machine or any ham sandwiches. I looked all over the buffet, but I eventually gave up. I had no desire to get this stuff for the men anyway. I thought one of them was being unreasonable asking for items that don't exist and the other one is just a jerk.

So, I left the buffet to see the rest of...apparently, a maze/amusement park where the amusement was a bizarre maze. It was actually quite fun to walk around in, but by the time I found the people I was with, a real cocktail waitress came up. She said that I abandoned those people after pretending to be a cocktail server. She called security to escort me out. The End

The Sloppy Joes of Doom

Everyone at work that had the sloppy joes, myself included, got sick. I feel nasty and vomity. Just thought I would share that with the world. Avoid the sloppy joes. I should have known. They were an odd color. The good news is that it isn't like food poisoning, which I've had two horrible times. That's the worst.

Hmmmm....yum

You are Rosy Perfection Salad!! Though your name
may be innocent and cheerful, your jello-sweet
exterior hides a foul, sinister core.


What Weight Watchers recipe card from 1974 are you?
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The Battle of the Squashes

I bought this absolutely beautiful turban squash. Now, turban squash, in case you didn't know, is so horribly ugly that it is beautiful, kind of like pomegranates I also bought a sweet dumpling squash, which is small and cute as far as squashes go, like an mini-albino pumpkin. I put these masterpieces of nature upon the counter of the kitchen to display them along with a butternut squash that I bought earlier. (In case you didn't know, I love squash. They keep forever and are delicious with copious amounts of butter).

Now, I'm not going to name names, but someone in this apartment put the squashes in the cupboard. Fine, I thought, so this person doesn't think that nature is beautiful. Well, this same person went out and bought yet another squash. An undecorative spaghetti squash, boring and yellow with no bulbous shapes protruding or anything to give it character. Where does that abomination go? Why, on the counter of course. I showed that person though. I put all the squashes and a red onion displayed on the counter with a note above it that says "Such a beautiful, bountiful harvest". I should add an exclamation mark. Let's see that person put it in the cupboard now. Ah ha ha ha.