This might be my top album cover of the year. The album itself ain't so bad, either.
And, sorry. I don't have anything real to write about (again). And I'm going to try my best to write real posts instead of turning this into a Tumblr. Speaking of which: I have one.
It's been a busy, hectic morning. I've just gotten the chance to relax a bit (meaning, I've just gotten the chance to read my thirty one emails I received over the weekend). Instead, I got a big-ass Rice Krispie treat.
Megan is a vegetarian and her low intake of protein makes her extremely angry. She shared with me this email she sent to Au Bon Pain this morning about their paltry offerings of vegetarian soups. I think it's pretty funny and I don't have anything to talk about, so here it is.
To whom it may concern:
Why do the majority of your soups contain a meat base? I realize that for the season there are two soups, one vegetarian (the pumpkin) and one vegan (the carrot) available for non-meat eaters every day, but beyond those two options, you rarely offer alternatives for strict vegetarians. Many of your soups are vegetable in nature (kale or tomato rice), but have a beef or chicken base. Do you know many carnivores who would choose a kale soup? My guess is that a kale soup would attract the attention of a vegan or strict vegetarian who would be unable to eat the soup because of its meat base. There are many meat options on the soup menu on a regular basis, but only those two vegetarian options are consistent. And to be perfectly honest, your carrot soup tastes like a bowl of orange juice with carrot grated into it.
I realize that vegans or strict vegetarians probably comprise a very small demographic within your customer base, and I'm also aware that chicken and beef broth provide more flavor to soups than vegetable broth does. But by making slightly less tasty soups (or exploring other ingredient options that would expand the flavor of vegetarian soups) and marketing them as such, my guess is you could drive up the vegetarian demographic within your customer base and provide more options for your soup customers, who are undoubtedly usually seeking a more nutritious alternative to your not-particularly-nutritious sandwich options.
Thank you, Megan
P.S. Macaroni and cheese doesn't count as soup.
Personally, I think she should have closed by saying their name is pretentious.
I'm lazy today, for reals, and I also don't really have anything about my life to share with the Internets. Instead, I'm going to provide you with a few quality links to check out.
10. FourFour supplies you with all of the animated Tyra gifs you could possibly need.
1. Kristin and I went to the Empty Bottle on Friday night to see Magnolia Electric Co. It was my fourth time seeing them (now tied with Of Montreal), but probably the best show I've seen them perform. Also, I'm kind of in love with Jason Molina, as every single song he writes at this point breaks my goddamn heart. To wit:
2. On Saturday I slept until 12:30. Then I went to Jewel with Christina, and upon my return, took a nap. It was a terrific day.
3. Adam and Alissa had an End of Summer (Observed) barbecue on Saturday evening, since they'll be in Europe over Labor Day weekend. While I should have taken the opportunity to wear white jeans for the (first and) last time of the summer, I forgot. Instead I wore my cut-offs, which can be seen in this great picture (not!!!) that Adam took.
Notice my sweet Wii Bowling posture. That's the kind of stance that allows you ten frames of spares!
3. During a brief conversation about The Hills on Saturday night, I loudly declared that Heidi Montag was "a date-rape waiting to happen." I blame the Red Stripes. [PS. Googling that picture enabled my discovery of The Hills Blog. Jackpot!]
4. I had three off-putting dreams this weekend. The first one involved my ex trying to make out with me, and I literally woke up on Saturday morning afternoon with a jump, and then was kind of pissed off the few hours I was awake. Then I had one on Saturday night wherein I ran into my ex-best friend at a family function. I was prepared to hate him still, but then he brought over his baby, whom he named "Moremont" after an imaginary place that I made up when we were kids. Clearly, the way to my heart is to name your baby after something I made up, even if the "place I made up" wasn't even something that happened in my childhood, just one of those dreams I have that involved a lot of fictional back-story. And last night I had some sort of breakdown in my dream when I realized I'd never get into grad school because I didn't read The Scarlet Letter in high school. I think my subconscious is mad at me.
5. Christina and I had a pizza party yesterday and invited everyone who helped us move into our apartment. It was a lot of fun because we played Argue, which is my new favorite game. Adam and I had to debate on this hot-button topic: You're on a date and you suddenly realize that you have to take a shit... do you go in your pants or do you go on a bush in front of your date? I successfully argued the latter, and my winning argument was, "If you put pants on a dog, it's just going to shit in its pants." That may not be convincing when taken out of context, but trust me: it was a pretty powerful thought.
I'm phoning it in today because I'm leaving for vacay in a few hours and I don't feel like thinking too much right now, so here's a poll.
For the record, the song that inspires the most hatred in my dark, dark soul is "Ignition" by R. Kelly. I swear to God, every time I hear that song I want to shove rusty nails down my throat and let them pass through my body (I'm trying not to be TOO scatological here) so that the pain from hearing that motherfucking song will temporarily be relieved by the prospect of getting tetanus in my intestinal tract.
UGGGGH I HATE IT.
I've been asking other people what their least-favorite songs were. Megan responded, "I've had the string section from 'Funkytown' stuck in my head all week, so, that song." Which is a good answer.
Adam has two:
[Note: This shows how stupid people actually like this song and think it's sung by Tom Petty rather than Tom Cochrane. FUCK ALL OF YOU.]
My dad also has two songs that inspire road rage on occasion:
I've seen the road rage. It's not pretty.
My mom loves to do impressions of Dolores O'Riordan's nasally voice when she hears this one:
Here's my brother's pick, which resulted from the summer where I drove him around with this song blasting on my stereo on REPEAT. Seriously. I'm sorry, David; we all make mistakes.
me: i have an interview on monday with an ad agency [I send her a link to the company’s website.] me: i don't know how i feel about it Christina: is this shutterbugs? i don't get it Christina: and their website reminds me of playing where in the world is carmen sandiago back in ‘97 me: i know me: i'm kinda nervous me: the guy was like, "if no one's at the front desk, just wait in the lobby. we usually have espn playing and stuff." Christina: YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSS Christina: you are going to hate that interview me: hahaha, i know. Christina: good luck with the small talk me: i better read the sports section of the red eye that morning Christina: ahaha Christina: cut it out and tape it to the inside of your sleeve Christina: and then you can be like, "oh yeah can you believe the cardinals won. 4 -0." Christina: "and also the yankees, won 8-3." Christina: "wow." me: that sounds like a terrible plan. Christina: DO IT Christina: well that sounds like a place where terrible plans are necessary me: i just realized i should buy some axe body spray this weekend.
I'm hoping that the box of Thin Mints I'm having for breakfast this morning will cancel out the miserable hell that is the weather outside right now. It's the middle of April and it's snowing really hard and FUCK YOU, CHICAGO because that's not right. I'm in a good mood, surprisingly, because I got a good amount of sleep last night (a two hour nap and then seven hours of Nyquil-induced heaven) and I'm still pretty pleased with myself for asking Adam (repeatedly, mind you) what the 411 with this snow was. (Get it? April 11th? 4/11? HA HA HA!!)
On an unrelated note, I only had one dream last night which I can remember, and it involved me being at home and my mother convincing me to allow her to throw me a birthday party. Since none of my college friends were willing to drive to Montross, my mom pulled out my high school yearbook and invited only people I graduated with. Which, obvs., made for a very awkward party. And it became more awkward when people I didn't like started showing up, and I had to explain to my mom that I hated these people. My mother then told them to leave - politely, of course - by explaining to them how I really felt about them. I was pretty embarrassed about this, so I locked myself in my room while the rest of my former classmates partied in my basement. I blame Kristel for this dream because she called me on Monday night asking if I planned on going to our ten-year reunion that is still unplanned and four years away. She tried to persuade me when I matter-of-factly said, "Absolutely not!" I then listed off the names of people we graduated with, and she changed her mind. Fuck all y'all, Class of 2001!
Also, my manager sent out the staff performance appraisal forms that we have to fill out in a week. She told me that I cannot just check "exceeds expectations" for each category of my job description, even though I CLEARLY DO. I plan on slacking off for the rest of the day, even though we actually have work to do today, so that I can feel less guilty about lying on my appraisal about being slightly retarded enough to just meet expectations.
I decided last night after seeing The Host that if I ever go back to school, I'm going to write a thesis concerning the Freudian imagery in twenty-first century Asian monster films.
I'm sure the dudes who find my blog by Googling "big hairy vaginas" will love it.
Notice my sweet Wii Bowling posture. That's the kind of stance that allows you ten frames of spares!
