Wednesday, July 21, 2010

Guide to Bachelorhood: Tip #5

Tip #5: Eat Good Food

“Good food.” There’s no “correct” definition for it, but somehow, in America, it has become synonymous with “healthy food.” If that fact was someone’s Facebook status, and Facebook allowed “disliking,” I would create several accounts, just so I could dislike the status several times. Much like men, who wanted prettier women, created magazine campaigns with beautiful women in them to get women to want to be more like what they wanted, women created “health food” campaigns which make men think we need to eat healthier. Why? Because it lead to guys thinking “Man, this whole cooking and eating right stuff is a pain in the ass… I should find a girl and trick her into doing it for me.” It was brilliant.

Soon, single women across the nation were getting booty calls, demand for tasteless health food was through the roof for inexplicable reasons, and organic food prices were on the rise. The typical man was now cornered. He went shopping, saw health food, didn’t want to cook it, got a girlfriend, prices went up, and now she needs money for “groceries.” I am hip to your ways women! If you cook it and it tastes good, it didn’t cost much and you’re using the rest of that money for shoes!

Sure, that seems like a
reasonable lunch.
Yep, bachelors were going extinct quickly. And if you want to remain a bachelor, you have to shop like a bachelor. Women won’t admit to it, and they act like it’s a chore, but they want to cook for you. It’s all a charade, so you feel like you owe them. Damn it, they’re geniuses! The best way out of this pickle is to shop for yourself using my Six S’s of “good food” as a guideline:

Soups – Campbell’s Chunky Soup comes in bowls. You don’t even need a can opener, the lid doesn’t require one. Just a spoon and a microwave (and the soup, unless your microwave is magical). Besides, according to commercials, Donovan McNabb eats it and his mom makes it for him. If you live with your mom, you’re set for life on the bachelorhood front. Read no further.

Sandwiches – This gets tricky. It requires an initial investment in mayonnaise and mustard, which last for years. If they do happen to turn green, keep them. Garlic is to vampires what moldy condiments are to women.

Once you have said condiments, you can get pickles (which are not considered produce for these purposes), cheese, bread, and meat. The meat is tricky too. When you approach the deli guy, he’s got all kinds of questions, like “Can I get something for you?” or “What kind of salami? Genoa or hard?” Don’t let his voodoo trickery fool you. You want Genoa… Or hard. It doesn’t really matter. Pick one and stick to it. It’s a test; no one really knows what the difference is. I am convinced that there is no difference. He just wants to make you look like an idiot later when you choose one and he goes to get it and asks, “Which one did you want again?” and you can’t remember after you answered it so assuredly before. Asshole.

Sfrozen Foods – “It doesn’t start with an ‘S’,” my ass! It was supposed to. Put your tongue on something frozen and try to say a word that starts with ‘S’. When you fail, get back to shopping, because that definitely starts with ‘S’. Start digging deep and you will soon find the good stuff. They have ice cream, frozen pizza, hot pockets, Eggo waffles, all kinds of frozen dead animals and their delicious meat, and frozen dinners. It begs the question “Why aren’t fridges the other way around, where the freezer is 2/3 of the storage space?” (Answer: Women designed… Their plan is elaborate.)

That shit is a trap. I can tell.
Snacks – If you open the cupboard and don’t have chips, cookies AND (not or) cereal, be weary; there is trouble abound. Your go to staple foods are running out, soon you will look to the TV to tell you what to eat. Boom. All of a sudden you want healthy food and it’s all down hill from there. I’ve seen it a hundred times.

Chips provide the crunch for your sandwich (since lettuce has been removed in the P section, below). And if Safeway says a product is cheaper if you buy 12 of them, it’s more than just a suggestion. You need not just 20 E.L. Fudge elf shaped cookies, but 240! A small army of Keebler Elves has never hurt anyone. It’s protected them. From girlfriends.

Soda – Women are all about water with lemon. And coffee and tea. Avoid these beverages by having wonderful, cold, sugary, addictive beverages. Or beer. Women need hydration. It’s one of their weaknesses. Utilize it, they don’t have many. They are like human Death Stars. If you absolutely need to have something that hydrates, go with Gatorade. Not the watered down version either, as a matter of fact, mix some similarly colored Kool-Aid in for good measure.

That’s five… And… umm…

Stuff That Comes in a Container You Can Eat Out of – Frozen pot pies that come in the bowl, the Chunky Soup Previously mentioned, Ben & Jerry-sized ice cream, anything that makes it clear there’s a high probability that if someone asks for food, they are going to be eating it from a paper container or with their hands.

Conversely, don’t purchase any of the P’s


It is essential to not have any sort of cook wear or produce. If you buy that, the next thing you know you’re eating a home cooked meal with your new girlfriend thinking about how you have to do dishes now.

Why can't you be more like
"Sfrozen" and start with 'S'?!
I know, many of us don’t want to go grocery shopping, but I love it. It keeps the junk food supply abundant and the women sparse. It might seem intimidating, but it’s cake (coincidentally, cake would have been on the list had it started with an “S”).

Lastly, when you get to the store, you’ll need a cart. Don’t grab a basket; women are the only people who go to stores for few enough items to warrant basket usage. Once you wrestle with the row of carts and start wondering if your cart is broken, rest assured that it’s not. Carts are just not functional. Personally, I can’t blame them for not maintaining the carts, if you look at the wheels, they always have a Barbie dolls head worth of hair on the axel. Women’s hair. And women are everywhere, be on the look out. (Fun Fact: Margaret Katz designed the grocery cart in 1937 and made sure the wheels collected the hair off the floor. Since no one listened to women in 1937, her husband Sylvan Goldman has always been credited with the invention so it had merit.)

You’ll be fine if you stick with my Six S’s. Women don’t shop for those things and are never in those sections. It’s as easy as that. Plus, you get to ride the cart like an oversized skateboard and then chest pass it from 20 yards out and see if you can get it to go into the cart return without slamming someone’s vehicle. And if it does, you’re already 20 yards away anyway. Run. Especially if it’s a cute, produce-wielding, good smelling, chef of a woman.

Monday, July 5, 2010

Nothing Without You...

Everyone relies on someone, somehow, some way, at some point. Either that, or you wouldn’t be reading this, because you died shortly after birth from malnourishment. It’s a fact that acts as one of life’s many foundations. We don’t change it, we simply build around it. Kind of like when I was 11 and threw a large rock into the largest anthill ever constructed. The ants couldn’t remove it, so they just went with it.

Some people, however, learn to depend on someone or something early on and, in some cases, would never exist without whatever it is they may be clinging to. In many cases, they don’t even enhance what they mooch off of in order to survive. There are even inanimate objects are guilty of this. They never even give out so much as a thank you note to their life support. So, I contacted several of these nouns (people, places and things) in order to see if I could get them to write a brief thank you note to the one thing they should worship more than anything on the planet: their better half.

Below, I have compiled the responses I did happen to receive from these nouns (I will publish the responses as they roll in). Finally, they show a little bit of respect…

Dear Sports,
"Really? You stood in line for threehours to 
have me sign your Big Book of Basketball?"
  Thank you for being an integral part of our every day lives. You equate to over 90% of everything we have stored in our brains. Because of you we have reason to wake up in the morning; we have a reason to dress like we are 13 again; and we can maintain conversations with other men, which allows us to compete with one another through our vast knowledge of you without even being moderately athletic or having any sort of coordination at all.

Without you it would be unacceptable to run around shirtless in the cold; people may find it weird if we touch our best friends’ asses and yell “good hustle!” when they get off the phone with the pizza guy; we would just be millions of smelly men in parking lots, eating bratwursts in a parking lot as if it were some kind of homeless people convention; the beer industry would collapse; we would only use the Internet for video games and porn; we might feel the need to be **gulp** productive at work instead of getting freaky with all of your junk online. Sorry, we meant “looking at stats online.” Truth be told… We love you. Hold us.
     Eternally Grateful,
          Tailgaters and Fantasy Geeks

Dear Old People,
  We’re not really moochers, right? You love us. We work so well together. As a matter of fact, one might even venture to say that you need us more than we need you. You would have nothing to live for if it weren’t for us. What are you gonna do? Play with your grand children?! Yeah, right. You need exercise to survive past 60 and are easily persuaded by infomercials showing silver foxes play with me on the beach. If anything, you owe us a letter of respect and adoration. We don’t beep to let you know something of value is nearby; we beep to let you know that we are your life support. When you stop hearing that beep, it’s because you are heading for that light at the end of the tunnel. And no, that’s not an ancient golden artifact, that’s a Corona bottle cap on the beach. Man, if the actual bottle is close by, you might be able to take it to Michigan to collect your nickel. Then maybe you could get a tank of gas, go see a movie and buy a candy bar with the change… You know, like when you were kids…
     Waiting for Your Apology,
          Metal Detectors

Dear Mildly Attractive Stripper,
  I really, REALLY would have no clue what to do without you. I have absolutely no marketable skills, no education, no self-esteem and no boyfriend. I couldn’t land a job picking up the Corona bottles buried in the sand that the Metal Detectors were talking about. I will absolutely drive us to our shows, and do as you say. I will even give you a majority of the tips and pretend it doesn’t bother me. You are my everything… until you hit 30…
     Your Plush Imaginary Coattails Passenger,
          Ugly Stripper

Dear Mexican Food,
  You’ve boosted my sales immensely. No one puts me on anything but you. You’re my landing pad. A little dollop here, a little dollop there and my job security is cushioned. I love rubbing myself all over you (just don’t tell the salsa. She hates when I do that)… What’s that? You’re down with a little me, you, Salsa three-way? I’d be lying if I said I weren’t at least a little intrigued… How do we approach her with this suggestion?
     Impatiently Waiting,
          Sour Cream

Dear Sour Cream,
  Are you kidding me?! It’s YOU that complete ME. People love you. Without you, there would be no me. For thousands of years, you have been around but people were embarrassed to eat you directly from the tub with a spoon. It was just taboo, like sex. Everyone wanted some, but doing it in the open was socially unacceptable. So then I came about. I am like your bedroom in this twisted culinary/sexual analogy… A place to do it that no one questions. I mean sure it’s nice to sneak a bite in the park or at work, but you know that if you want to be safe, just throw some on me. I am there for you baby.
     Yours Always,
          Mexican Food

Dear Mexican Food,
  This analogy has me all worked up… What did Salsa say???
     In the Mood for Some You,
          Sour Cream

Dear Sour Cream/Mexican Food,
  You had me at “twisted culinary/sexual analogy.”
     So In,

Dear Facebook,
    Before you, no one cared when I was brushing my teeth or just ate three granola bars and a packet of fruit snacks. Now, 457 people care. I can tell because they haven’t defriended me. Who would have thought my life would be this interesting? You’re a dream come true!
     Intimately Yours,
          Boring Egotistical Asshole

Dear Internet,
   Man, where would I be without you? A columnist at a newspaper? No one reads these posts… A newspaper would never hire me. I write things about magical lands where boys are pure evil. I write about food condiment ménage trios. I write about Terry the Bounty Hunter. There is absolutely no medium or market for what I write. Without you, my thoughts would stay in my head where they belong and never surface for the world to see. The world would be a slightly smarter place, as everyone is now dumber for having read to the end of this post. Thanks for not limiting or censoring me.
     Futilely Leaching Since December,