Bread Bowl Pasta? More Like Bread Bowl FUN!

Can't fit into that wedding dress? Need help filling out that new polo? Look no further. Domino's has created a monster that goes contrary to all recently conceived diet recommendations. "Screw you," says the pasta-filled bread bowl says to the protein-dominant diets of the early 2000's. "Go ahead and eat that cereal for breakfast in your half-hearted attempt to lose weight or in your passive aggressive attempt to get your breakfast partner to lose weight," says Domino's, "come to us on the way home from work, when you feel vulnerable, and let our colossal carbohydrate cake corrode your carotid."

I've recently thought about pasta in a new way. It's just bread formed into interesting shapes. I find it difficult to feel like I'm getting a deal when I pay more than a couple bucks for a pasta dish at a restaurant. By serving me a pasta dish in a nest of bread, Domino's is trying to fool me again. I guess we know we are in a recession when the carbohydrate/other stuff ratio increases, but don't try to fool me into thinking that I want to do this, or into thinking that it's a good idea. Domino's is serving bread in a bread bowl with a bit of sauce.
Gross.


I want one.

Wow, Somalia Is Now REALLY Freaking Me Out

All in all, this is actually kind of funny. Somalia has been going through a bit of a joke of a time. From what I remember, the Somali government had to leave the country and govern from abroad to avoid being murdered. Now, back in the country it sort of oversees, the government is trying to hold on to whatever power it may still have.

As if this chaos isn't news enough, a bunch of Somali pirate jerks have managed to steal the headlines in newspapers around the world. A French yacht was seized with a 3 year-old taken hostage. An American ship carrying FOOD AID was temporarily seized. A Dutch ship, a Belgian ship, and I think a Turkish ship have also been attacked in the past couple of days alone. Countries from all over have sent massive destroyers to the region in attempt to fight off a bunch of guys in tiny speed boats who apparently like wearing tank tops while they brandish their terrifying Soviet weapons. The inclusion of American vessels into the mix, I think, will likely guarantee an influx of money into the region. The money will help the government buy the power it needs to confront these pirates on land and to assist economic development efforts in the region.

In the face of this global epidemic, the Somali government has decided to NOT address the absurd piracy. Rather, it has voted (unanimously, nonetheless) to impose Sharia law in all of its lands. "What?" Somalia says, "some of our citizens are hijacking massive ships carrying millions of dollars worth of cargo from some extremely powerful nations? Whatever." Rather than create a reasonable climate in which to receive international funds to fight piracy, to regain control of the country, and to walk down the road of development, the country has decided to take little girls out of school, drape them in clothing, and throw rocks at them for doing anything that seems fun. Women aren't the only ones to suffer. Men have to grow disgusting beards, and will likely have to give up their televisions and radios. Essentially, the government has taken away everything fun and has ended all potential for normal socializing. What do people do when they're not allowed to have fun? Well, they pick up guns, put on tank-tops, and start hijacking ships in the Gulf of Aden. Somalia's solution, then, to the pirate problem: let's create a climate in which piracy becomes the coolest and most reasonable outlet for fun and the most stable form of income with which to have said illegal fun.

I don't mean to be an over-confident jerk, but sometimes it really does seem like I could potentially be more capable of running a country than a lot of people that currently run countries. Then again, I have a history of Monday morning Presidenting.

Torpedoes For Everyone!

I've been sweating Subway's $5 foot-long for the past few months, rarely venturing to any of their rivals (I went to Potbelly's the other day only because I felt that I deserved a milkshake for a hard week's work). My heart, however, is beginning to fall for another. I have become enamored with the idea of a thinner, crunchier, potentially longer, and certainly cheaper alternative. Quiznos, now offering a $4 Torpedo, has brought some steam to my lunch-time love life. While I have yet to try one of these militant sandwiches, the commercials continue pumping their $4 message. Advertisers have realized that the only reason I've been going to Subway is because I know I can eat there for $5. They have also realized the best way of beating that deal, to allow me to eat for $4.

And Its Snowing Again

:(

Vulnerability

As if waking up in a hotel room, alone, and in a distant unfamiliar suburb after a tremendous wedding celebration wasn't enough to make me uncomfortable, nauseated, and vulnerable, Mother Nature decided to play her hand, further impacting my climate-based sentimental state. What was at first a lovely early spring day turned quickly into the backdrop for a battle scene on a coastal Japanese mountain range in a WWII movie I haven't seen but whose existence I will assume.

The sun gave way to militant clouds which unleashed biblical winds, hail, rain, snow, sleet, what some meteorologist like calling "a wintery mix". When I hear, wintery mix, I think hot chocolate with schnapps, warm apple cider with brandy and cloves. The wintery mix of yesterday, heralding the coming of a miserable April, froze my insides and left me feeling unbelievably vulnerable to the forces of nature and organ theives. I was even scared in my dreams, but this was probably because of watching Law and Order SVU too late in the night.

Looking at the forecast, I'm used to seeing an image of the sun, maybe it has a couple of clouds blocking its path, maybe its just one big cloud, maybe there are rain drops coming from the cloud. Yesterday, though, weathermakers chose the above image to serve as a quick snapshot of what to expect. How the hell do I prepare for a day in which ice is going to grow on the undersides of branches? Do I wear a scarf? Do I need boots? Skates? A hard hat?

As an environmentalist, and a lover of pleasant weather, I feel as though I should begin the somewhat untruthful hype. Yesterday was because of climate change, and if we keep on going down our deleterious path of atmospheric destruction, everyday will be a wintery mix. Everyday will have ice hanging from branches. Global Warming is dead, the new plan is to avoid Global Wintery Mixing.

I'm So Jell-ous!

My fascination with Jell-o and Jell-o based products began from a young age. I was confronted with the stuff on a daily basis as my dad's restaurant was the sort of place where one could order a small cube of canned fruit filled Jell-o rather than the more conventional side salad or cup of soup to serve as the opening act in what would end up being an extremely filling but highly forgettable meal. I went on to buy several Jell-o shape cutters during my elementary years. If I was going to continue to eat Jell-o, I thought, I was going to eat it in the form of a star, or a man, or a brontosaurus.

My passion for this mass of impossibly solid liquid continued through the holidays where, on Thanksgiving, I indulged in my mother's translucent cranberry orange Jell-o, and on Christmas, I took on her opaque pistachio Jell-o. Both of these feats of late twentieth century culinary taboo were spectacular, serving as both a centerpiece to the table and a reasonable side-dish to an otherwise overly savory meal. As I went to college, my Jell-o consumption surprisingly increased even further, but this mostly in the form of completely disgusting Jell-o shots that may or may not have contained vodka, thus making my inebriated states either real, or completely psychological.

I reminisce like so because I am reminded today of yet another failed business plan. I've been wanting to get into the Jell-o business for a few year. Jell-o business? Exactly, no one is really in the business of making massive complex Jell-os with flavors you would have never thought to put in a Jell-o, molded into shapes you never thought possible given Jell-o's physical properties. This is how I introduce Sam and Harry, the 25 year old British boys that have successfully started their own Jell-o business. They've made some pretty bizarre things including a replica of St. Paul's Cathedral and a food-safe quinine (it glows in the dark).

To clarify, Jell-o, in the UK, is called jelly. I'm not sure why this is. It certainly caused me endless confusion as the string of word substitutions is amazingly complex. Jell-o becoming jelly, means that jelly needs to become jam, and that jam needs to be called preserve (maybe?) and that preserve is just not eaten or mixed with eel to be called jellied eel, which leads to vacuums being called hoovers, and me being called a tosser.

Anyway, these boys stole my dream. I hope they are having fun with it. One thing the three of us certainly agree on is that it's all about the wobble.