Journey into Mystery

I had a hard time falling asleep last night. I was up late reading about Snuggi, Shamwow and other As Seen on TV cult favorites. I ended up calling it a night around 5:00 am. I had to be at work at 12:45. I figured if I slept until 11 or so I would be able to function. That wasn't the case. My lovely neighbors seem to be obsessed with shovels. It was in the mid 50's today and of course they were out there breaking up ice patches and scooping them. It has not snowed lately, yet they are almost always out there. I did not get to sleep as much as I was planning on and stayed awake. I played through a few levels of Dig Dug 2 then got ready for work. I was over tired and already feeling sick and queasy. I can't drink coffee any more so I was thinking of alternatives. Monster Energy. 24 oz can. 240 mg of caffeine. I would need to drink an estimated 47 cans at 24oz each for it to kill me. Or so http://www.energyfiend.com/death-by-caffeine has lead me to believe. I also had the bright idea to have try a 5 hr energy. I get to the gas station near my work and purchase a XXL can and a bottle of 5 hour energy which has an estimated 60-100 mg of caffeine per bottle. And I bought some Cheetos.

I arrived at work. Punched in, had a bagel then I cracked open the can and bottle and shit got crazy. I tried the 5 Hour Energy first. This was my first 5 Hour Energy experience. I opened the tiny bottle and peeled off the wrapper to find a nondescript white bottle with a red cap. I could easily see my self in a hotel rushing to get ready for an important business meeting at the corporate offices with the big wigs, putting my bottle of 5 Hour Energy down as I shave, and picking up a bottle of trial size shampoo and downing it. With out being able to distinguish the difference in taste between Hampton Inn Shampoo and 5 Hour Energy. This shit was horrible. It was bitter. It smelled like the garbage can does when there is a puddle of mystery garbage juice in it. It stunk. I downed it at 1:00 pm on the dot, then had to chase it with Monster.

I love Monster, I've drank more than enough in my life to know what to expect. I opened the cap to the can. (Yes, the can had a cap, it is like a bottle of Mutagen or a pipe bomb) and there was flowing steam or smoke that billowed out with a little coaxing (see above video). I took a swig and eventually finished the can in 5-10 minutes. Within a few minutes I did feel awake, alert, and motivated to be at work and do something. I got plenty of stuff done. I signed a time card, printed out twenty five (25) to thirty (30) new forms. I organized the forms and placed them in my binder. I consulted with Egan about fantasy baseball. I figured out a way to tap into a closed circuit surveillance system I use and have a tape on loop like the scene in Speed with Sandra Bullock. I didn't feel like stuff was out of control. I had a touch of a headache but I was working and focused.

Then I started spacing out at the beginning of hour number 2. I was running out of tasks to get done for the day. I had 20 eyes in my head, I was seeing all,knowing all, being all. I felt like I was flying into the danger zone. Or maybe just a zone I have not been in for a long time: Wide awake with energy.I ran riot in my office looking for two non sharpened pencils to use as drum sticks so I could rock along to 1991 Billboard top 100 hit "Everything Changes" - By Kathy Troccoli \m/<('o')>\m/ and successfully finding online communities, chat rooms, forums and blogs about Alton Brown and his current Ben Franklin like hair.

Around 4:00, the third hour of my experience things got interesting. My mind was racing. I felt like the Flash when hes running at the speed of light and everything around him freezes. I was time travelling. I started to revisit bad movie ideas, jokes, and ideas I have had for a long long time. I thought about the documentary I want to make: "Barefoot in Berlin" which would be about Hippies that travel time to stop World War II. I would first need to have a time machine to go to San Francisco in the early 1960's and convince the hippies to go back in time to 1930s Germany as Hitler was building Nazi power. The hippies would then diffuse the situation by placing flowers in guns, making Peace signs on Mercedes Benz logos and getting Hitler to drop acid and have a one nut wonder love in. My mind started to wonder trying to figure out a set up to why I think the phrase "Hope Hogan" was funny. Perhaps a Christian Wrestler? or maybe our next President with a new slogan of "Hope" instead of "Change". Hope Hogan in 2012. And other racing, non-sense thoughts : Monster has Taurine. I know if take away the TA and it spells Urine which is essentially the chemical compound in Monster or some shit. And Shroud of Turin rhymes with Urine, unlike Taurine which is spelled similar to Urine but doesn't rhyme. Either way The Shroud of Turin has Jesus' face imprint, and like Jesus, the concoction I tried today could raise the dead. I feel my body temperature is a bit higher and my stomach feels nervous.

My fourth hour started around 5:oo pm as I ate my sandwich, a caffeine free diet Dr. Pepper and a bag of Cheetos. At that time, I was trying to figure out what the fuck was going on. I figured if I am ever: bored, tired, need to pretend to be on coke/meth or need become really aware and quick enough to be good at video games in an emergency situation, I should keep these drinks on tap 24-7. Then I figured I wouldn't last long and could suffer the same consequences of using the real drugs. I took a quick walk around the parking lot to get some fresh air and tried to focus. My super powers were fading. I was growing tired and I yawned. I got back to my office and fucked around with my radio trying to regain reception to no avail.

I started coming down around 6:00 pm. I had another caffeine free diet Dr. Pepper. I didn't want to push my limits. I didn't want to pull Brian Pillman and have my heart explode at the hotel before my match against Dude Love at In Your House : Badd Blood. I started trying to relax and calm down by thinking about going home and playing video games, eating, and finally sleeping. Then I started worrying about if I was going to be playing Playstation. Would I remember to use the Mp-40 dual mag, bouncing betty, juggernaut, martyrdom, ordinance custom class? Or would my spaced out ass forget and have to use a Mosin Nagant with double special grenades, double tap and toss back perks and make my K/D ratio dip below 1.00? I also feared about waking up and having shit all over my bed like Trainspotting, or a baby crawling on the ceiling twisting its head backwards.

I got home not too long ago. I made my two tamales and ate them. I'm trying to keep my shit together with out hallucinating and thinking there are gnarly radioactive zombie dogs, like the ones the Incredible Hulk fights in the 2003 movie with Eric Bana , waiting to eat my face off while I sleep defenselessly in my bed with no strength to even yell for help. As it stands now, my stomach aches, my head hurts, my piss is glowing in the dark and I feel like a bus ran over me. My only option is to have this rocket fuel cocktail tomorrow and try to stay awake at work.

Hatred Burger?

“Fear is the path to the dark side. Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering.”

- Yoda

They say you are what you eat, and if the Whopper is angry, then by the associative property, I am angry as well. Anger gets you to be the baddest ass of all bad guys/magicians/dudes with special powers. Once I join the Dark Side I'll be having Jedi lightening battles with Darth Rory, collecting Light sabers and shit and choking old British dudes with the raise of an eye brow. I'm on my way to being a heartless, intergalactic tyrant if I start with with the Angry Whopper. I realized all of this today at work, in between sorting 3 months worth of register receipts, reading online message boards about Metal Gear and getting pissed at people for stealing all my pens. After my Angry Whopper, no more would any one fuck with my private Paper Mate draw, I'd force choke or launch a trash can at them or use Jedi mind tricks to convince them my pens were not the pens they were looking for. I clocked out of work and embarked on a journey to the local Burger King. I hopped in my trusty sky blue, dented, early model,sensible,fuel efficient,not so flashy, Japanese imported sedan, and pondered if I did become angry and evil enough to roll with Darth Vader, would I trade this bitch in for a sweet jet fighter with lasers and shit. I arrived to Burger King just as I finished rocking the fuck out to "Love Song" by Sara Bareilles \m/. My hands are still sore from pounding the steering wheel like a drum set. Burger King #01302 was the start of my quest for intergalactic superiority and honing my anger. 259 Cochituate Rd Framingham. I arrive to a smiling jovial face. I never picked up the woman's name. The poor woman was unaware of the utter evil she was facilitating. I placed my order "one large ANGRY WHOPPER combo meal!" I demanded. I was asked to pay $8.18. I presented my legal tender, and was handed my change and receipt stating my order was order #7. I filled up my large cup with Diet Coke and looked over the dining room. It was a deluge of people, young and old all present to take part of the Angry Whopper, Double stacker, and other Burger King treats and novelties. I was nervous I was going to have to take my meal to my rusty sky blue, dented, early model,sensible,fuel efficient,not so flashy, Japanese imported sedan. I then did some of the Jedi mind trick shit I've been working on and the dining room emptied. I chose my seat. For historical purposes I document my seat. Number 7 was then called, and my order was presented. One tray, one order of fries, one Angry Whopper. I was in for a big surprise that was for sure. I was about to experience one of the most terrifying things ever......

Hatred Burger

I unwrapped the Angry Whopper and felt like I was in an episode of Quantum Leap in a 1940s death camp. I experienced a life time of fear. I felt my life was about to end. I was afraid of the visions that would haunt me until my pending end. Jalapenos burned my mouth, similar to how vikings would burn villages. I could get no relief. I took a sip of my Diet Coke and felt betrayed by its ineffectiveness. My mouth was still burning. The tangy onions took me for a naive fool. I figured onion rings are always a safe bet. An aromatic treat, not these onions. They were born of Hell. The Jalapeno sauce raged fury on my taste buds. I was growing increasingly fearful until I became so frustrated, so helpless my fear turned to anger. I figured the only way to stop by fear was to banish this Angry Whopper from existence. I took a second bite out of anger...and because the bacon was good too. I was determined to not let this hatred burger strike me down. I took more bites. I drank more soda. I was in a blind frenzy of anger. It was like Friday the 13th part IV : The Final Chapter. Tommy Jarvis shaves his head, then goes down stairs and starts hacking at Jason and repeatedly hacking and saying "Die!, Die!, Die!, Die!" I begin to Hate Eat this burger. I chanted the mantra of "EAT! EAT! EAT!" in my head with every crushing motion of my jaw. I let some onion rings suffer on the wrapper.

I turned on my Frypod video.

. Then cranked "Addicted to spuds" I enjoyed this burger. I let out an menacing laugh as I contemplated the burger. I was angry enough to push a toddler down some stairs, go to Toys R Us rip a Barbie out of a little girls hand and drop kick it across the store then give her mom a roundhouse, steal her mini-van, rob a bank, use all the money to pay for hookers with aids to go around and have unprotected sex with just about any one I graduated high school with. $8.18 for a pretty dense burger, fries and a soda at Burger King. Mildly spicy/hot. If you get a Jalapeno by it self in a bite, or with a little of the sauce or a tomato or something you do feel the spiciness of the Jalapeno. How ever it does get lost in the mixing and melding of all the other flavors, the beef, the bacon, the cheese, onion rings etc. This would be a proper hatred propaganda burger at a chain restaurant for $10 with some better fries. I clean my tray, refill my cup and leave. I'm no Jedi yet. I contemplated the events that have transpired. The fear, anger, hatred and suffering I have experienced and the exacerbated mastication that caused all it. I got into my rusty sky blue, dented, early model,sensible,fuel efficient,not so flashy, Japanese imported sedan and rode off into the sunset leaving in wake my first lesson in Dark Jedi training.

Later on I did stop at Office Max. It was desolate. One (1) cashier, and one (1) person on the sales floor, and I (me) were the only ones (3) in the store. I was there on work related business. To make one (1) $0.08 cent copy. I approached the photo copy area and discovered I needed a key/swipe card to operate the photocopiers and make my one (1) photo copy. I approached one (1) the gentle, downtrodden old soul at the one (1) cash register and asked if he could make one (1) copy for me with out me having to go through the trouble of creating a key card to use the photocopier for one (1) copy. He informed me that there would be zero (o) problem and asked if I could hold on one (1) minute for my one (1) photocopy to be made. I was willing to wait one (1) minute possibly more (2-∞) . He paged the one (1) other sales associate in the store to make the one (1) photo copy. The young girl with the tired,defeated eyes of a refugee who has lost everything, even the will to live approaches the copy center, takes my one (1) sheet and makes one (1) copy as the one (1) cashier rings me up $0.08 for one (1) photocopy. I hand him a dime ($0.10) and he hands me back two (2) pennies. I feel guilty being the only one (1) in the store shopping and browse around. I find two (2) boxes of pens. Each one (1) box of pens has twelve (12) pens. I purchase two (2) for $1.00 each. The one (1) cashier rings up my purchase and my grand total comes to $2.10. I hand the cashier two (2) one (1) dollar bills and one (1) dime . I take my two (2) boxes of twelve (12) pens each and wish the one (1) man at the register and the one (1) sales associate on the floor to have a goodnight and proceed to my trusty sky blue, dented, early model,sensible,fuel efficient,not so flashy, Japanese imported sedan satisfied with my abundance of pens , which my soon to be acquired Jedi lightening skills will protect from would be pen theives. Approximate fours (4) hours late I face the vengence of the Angry Whopper and I soon find out suffering. The Angry Whopper haunts my mind with the stern statement "When I left you, I was but a learner. But, Now, I am the master." I make a break for the bath room at work and I feel less angry. Then I fear more suffering when I discover....How I get my self out of this situation is a long, sordid tale of cunning, resourcefulness, interpersonal communications, trigonometry and diversity. Much much more than I could ever explore in the remainder of this post, but will be left for a future post.

Volcano Taco = Lava Shits?

Some time last week I was at work and ready to eat. I weighed my usual options, when the ad campaign for the Volcano Taco from Taco Bell ran through my mind. I started asking my self deep philosophical questions like "Do Volcano Tacos cause Lava shits?". I set out to find out for myself that afternoon. I gathered my belongings , said my goodbyes to co-workers, and walked out the door hoping to answer a burning question.

I got to my sky blue, dented, early model,sensible,fuel efficient,not so flashy, Japanese imported sedan, opened the door and turned on some local talk radio. I motored my way to the closest KFC/Taco Bell combo near my place of employment. I fought my way through mid-rush hour traffic, with the sun flaring in my face as I drove westward I approached the KFC/Taco Bell parking lot. The overwhelming fumes of freshly layed asphalt and diesel commanded my attention as I noticed the street was blocked off right in front of the KFC/Taco Bell with construction vehicles, dump trucks, front loaders, steam rollers, police details, and numerous laborers in bright orange and electric yellow green shirts. Pickup trucks with trailers of tools, shovels, machines, rakes and other paving implements filled the Taco Bell parking lot.

I started to get nervous that the Taco Bell would be packed, or out of Volcano Tacos and I would have a failing mission to deal with. I found a parking spot for my sky blue, dented, early model,sensible,fuel efficient,not so flashy, Japanese imported sedan. I entered and was only 2nd or 3rd in line behind some gruff looking biker guy and two incredibly obnoxious 14 or 15 year old mop topped stoner kids wearing women's jeans,striped sweatshirts and big sneakers. Both little hipster pricks in Hurley brand skater crap were opting for the Volcano tacos. I figured that if those two little shits can handle Volcano tacos between skating sessions and constructing pipes out of apples and empty coke cans weren't shitting their brains out, I could handle the Volcano taco as well. I waited patiently on deck as the shitheads were issued their receipts and change. I was up to bat now with my order ready to go. Two Volcano tacos and 1 large soda.

I received my soda, was issued a # and receipt. I took the few moments I had before my food was ready to get my fill at the soda fountain. I walked over, cup in hand to a soda machine that smelled like feet. I recognized this smell as soda that has been spilled, not cleaned and thus fermented from my days from working at CVS. I held my breath and continued to fill my cup as my number was called.

I went to the counter and picked up my two freshly made Volcano tacos and headed out the door to my car to eat. I sat in the parking lot watching the busy bustling of a paving crew wrap up the last job of the day.I opened the bag and retrieved my first potentially butt busting taco. I examined it, and found that there is a minimal amount of meat and other toppings. Just a red taco shell, a spoon full of ground beef, the fiery cheese sauce shredded cheese and lettuce. I started eating the 1st one and was done in about 30 seconds. It was not as the ads suggest, my ears did not release smoke nor did I spit flames or turn red with heat. The fiery cheese sauce was just like the Tostito's queso dip with some taco seasoning, an epic let down. I opened the second one and inspected it closely as well. I figured the first puny taco was just a fluke, but my fears were confirmed, a 79 cent taco has just enough meat, and toppings to consider it a taco. I consumed it just as quickly as the first. I took a few sips of soda and hit the road back to work to wait for digestion to finish and I could make a conclusion on the Volcano taco.

As I was driving , I had to be stopped at a red light. I was waiting as a convertible pulled up, top down. The driver was a male in the late 50's to early 60's who was balding. He was cranking NPR. Loud music and convertibles always conjure images of rebels, renegades, rock and rollers. The thoughts of " Runnin' with the devil" by Van Halen, "Born to be Wild" by Steppenwolf, or "Bad to the Bone"By George Thorogood and the Destroyers. Not NPR promoting a commercial for "...Says you" or a public service announcement about national endowment for the arts fund raiser gala ball. The light turned green, the NPR faded and I turned into the parking lot and went back to work. A few hours later I went to the bathroom and here's a representative idea of what happened.

a slice of the Allston life

Chemical Warfare Monday

Recently I had a Monday, filled with clogs, cat turds, chemicals and carcinogens. I woke up on my day off and headed to the kitchen. I was looking for some sort of food to get my day going. They do say that breakfast is the most important meal of the day. And thus my first meal being at 2pm after a solid night of drinking light beer and eating crap the previous night I was in dire need of food. I had loaded up the previous day at Trader Joes, fairly cheaply. I opened my freezer to some banana waffles and popped them in the toaster oven. I go to get a plate out of the sink and see that the sink is not draining. So I move some plates around see if the drain is blocked. Nothing happened. I grabbed a paper plate and fretted over the sink being clogged beyond repair. As I om nom nom nommed down my banana waffles I decided I was going to get the plunger and put that to work on the drain. This may have been a better idea if I didn't have a double sink on the same drain line. All it did was kick up brown water, rice and food debris from one sink to the other. I kept at it for a few then went to Shaw's and got Draino. I poured in a half a gallon of this shit and waited 15 minutes. I then plunged again getting the bleachy smelling clog cure all over my hands. The water now brown with white foam suds did not drain. I wait another 20 or so minutes and plunged again. As I plunged the water in one sink would drain but the rise in the other. I figure I must be doing something right. or wrong. I kept at it as the level of suds rose, more debris was sprouting up, almost like a geyser of bread crumbs, pizza crust chucks, pasta pieces and vegetables. As the foul stench of a drain pipe mixed with the burning sting of Draino, I forged on. An hour after the initial pouring of the solvent the water level dropped. Almost like an hour glass in fast forward. A small victory! I raised my arms in joy as I let out a big "HA HAAAA!" in the third floor apartment of my small Lower Allston apartment. I washed my hands in numerous soaps for a significant amount of time after, and I could not get rid of the chemical smell from my hands. I ultimately started to freak out about rubbing my eyes, preparing food, or using the bathroom in fear of chemical burns on tender parts. Fast Forward 4 hours. I'm sitting in the living room, watching tv when I hear a weird noise in the kitchen. My roommate's cat was running around the kitchen. I get up to look and see him doing this. Perplexed I think its just the cat being silly. I sit down in the living room, and hear the raucous again and get up and look. I see a huge connect the dot smile face. Only the dots are chunks of cat turd, and the dots were connected by a brown cat turd crayon. I immediately get up, ask the cat why he crapped everywhere. He ran off, I assessed the situation got the Clorox spray and sprayed the whole area. I tore off three (3) to fourteen (14) paper towel sections and scooped up the tootsie rolls, and gave the streak a wipe. I discarded everything in the trash and sprayed everything with Clorox again. I wiped it up again. I wreaked of bleach at this point. I then took a Swiffer wet jet and gave it another once over. I ended up taking a shower, and went to bed still smelling like potent cleaning solvents for the next 3 days.

A Side Road Rage?

My part of town is a very dense, tightly packed community parking spots are rare. There is not resident permit parking, but its unnecessary because the only reason to be in this neighborhood is to live here. I pull onto my street and immediately start eying spots on my way to my house. Giving my self mental notes if I have to circle to block, which spot would be closest/ideal for a quick getaway to work in the morning. I pull up to my house hoping there is a spot right in front of it. There is just enough room in front of my house for three (3) cars. My car would be occupying the third spot. As I pull in head first, I park for a second, then back out and turn my car around so I am backed in to just pull away in the morning. As I am doing my three (3) point turn I notice my Asian neighbor across the street standing on her steps staring at me. I pay no mind seeing how I do not want to talk to her, I just want to go inside and watch rerun of Cops on Court TV and eat my frozen buffalo wings. I cut my engine, tightly squeezed into the third spot and hear a shrieking voice before my door is fully open yelling at me in somewhat broken English. "How long you stay?" "I live here. I just worked all day. I'm going inside my house right here." She replied aggressively "You can't park there." "I've been parking here for the last year. I'm parked here, I'm going inside." "I got ticket parking there before, You can't park there...I can't park there, no one can park there." I reemphasize all I have said previously "I'm going inside, I worked all day, I've been parking here for a year now." "You going to get ticket. You can't park there. Park somewhere else, like me, lots of spaces, I can't park there, you can't park there either." Getting fed up, and anticipating this cunt calling the cops that I am parking too close to another car, or my car is more sky blue than the legal limit, pretty much any reason to give me a hard time I end the conversation and say "If I get a ticket...which I doubt, I will get a ticket and take care of it. I'm parking here,I have been parking here for a year, I had a long day at work. Goodnight." and run upstairs to tune into my police scanner. I put my frozen buffalo chicken wings in the oven. Have a Diet Pepsi and wait. Once my wings are heated up I turn out my lights, sit by my window with the a blanket over my head om nom nom nomming on my wings and listening to my police scanner waiting for a complaint to come across the air so I can run out and move my car and make her look like a fucking moron before the police show up to investigate. That call never came across, and I woke up to my victoriously ticket free sky blue, dented, early model,sensible,fuel efficient,not so flashy, Japanese imported sedan. I grinned as I opened the door looking at that bitches drive way smiling as I sped away to work.

My Big Day At McD's

I had a pretty busy morning today. I woke up late for work and floored it. I made it to work 10 minutes late and ended up being in a rush to nothing.A long day of watching creepy looking crack addicts look at every pair of Timberland boots then try to match them up to dumb looking graphic t-shirts and old ladies bitching about chipped ceramic cups on clearance for $1.00 at a discount department store. As I listened to the radio and spaced out watching these bizarre characters in the store, my mind began to wander. What happens when mice die? Are there funerals? Do they go to a mouseoleum. Could I make a living off of the Craigslist "Free" section just picking up free stuff and going to a pawn shop? Then I picked up my mobile phone with Internet capability and started on one of my latest obsessions. The Wiki how random function. This site boggles my mind. Almost any obscure character from weird Japanese cartoons,movie characters,and beyond has a brief tutorial on how to "be" that character. Other tutorials on how to make chocolate milk, how to be yourself, how to do long division, how to open doors, how to breathe and the most bizarre and ridiculously simple things are there.I feel like its some sort of underground, almost perverse sect of the population that are into obsessively writing Wiki how's on anything. I'm debating on writing a few myself: How to drink 12 beers, lose at Metal Gear Online, and make a toaster strudel with out burning it. or How to watch numerous episodes of Heir 2 tha $treetz on Boston cable access while your girlfriend is sleeping and wakes up telling you to shut that crap off, but you manage to turn it down just low enough she cant hear it and goes back to sleep. My mind continued to wander as I finished reading another wiki how article.A radio ad snapped me out of my hypnotic state. A commercial for the new McDonald's McCafe line. Today was smack dab in the middle of a week long promotion for a FREE McCafe from 7am-7pm. I debated on trying one vs. going to Chipotle again. As I watched more weirdos roam about the store and a woman do the "Purse twist" with every hand bag we had in stock, I decided to go to McDonald's for my lunch break at 330 or so. At that moment, I committed to it. As I almost always do I plan my food order out in detail before I arrive at the place so I leave no doubt in my mind of what I am doing, and can get my order out quickly to expedite satiating my appetite. I pulled into the McDonald's parking lot to see a few familiar sights: A long line at the drive through, plenty of older people walking out of the door to the handicapped spaces, and numerous pimp ass cars. Usually early model, sensible ,fuel efficient, Japanese import sedans with lots of flashy shit on it to make it virtually disguised so you don't know its a early model,sensible,fuel efficient Japanese imported sedan that usually is not flashy.These cars had spinning rims, tinted windows with "Angelito" and "El Salvador" written in a gothic olde tyme font, intake vents above the wheel well with chrome detailing, a spoiler, one car had rust spots and had a matte red finish, the other car had a gnarly color scheme that seems to change color as you walk by it, almost how a hologram changes color as the light hits it differently.Locking my sky blue, dented, early model,sensible,fuel efficient Japanese imported sedan that is not flashy, I double checked my pockets for my bill fold and was ready to dine finely on the best McDonald's Framingham has to offer.

I enter the McDonald's and order my Large #2, seconds later I am on my way to the soda fountain with my tray and cup. No incident.

I take my tray to a corner booth and open my phone to wiki how and read as I eat. I start picking up conversations of the people sitting around me and listen in. One couple is just talking about needing a new pool cover and the options around the McDonald's to buy one. And then I start listening to the two men behind me. Business men. Talking about some sort of contract signing they had today. Guy A says to Guy B "I'm more of the technical type of guy, the one that can tell our clients how things get done, the time frame, you, you're more of what we need and you were able to go in there and talk specifics, hammer out the deal, negotiate." Guy B sits silent as Guy A goes on " Don't worry about Williamson, don't believe what you hear. Everything isn't what it seems with him, he doesn't know the partnership that we need and the importance of a united front when negotiating big deals" Guy B still remains silent. Guy A says" I spent 15,000 to spend 5 days with the former CEO of Hallmark, and you know what he said to me ... he told me "You're with co workers 8 hrs a day, you don't have to like them, but you have to be friends. You re working towards a common goal 8 hours of every day." Guy B is silent and Guy A starts talking a little more quiet and serious and tells Guy B "I'm going to tell you this, and I want you to say this to me right now: What ever relationship we have, we're partners in this, and we have to be friends and wont let anything come between us" Guy B remains silent as Guy A doesn't give Guy B a chance to respond and says " Let's sign this contract, close this deal and go big with the next account" I start thinking to myself how gay the whole conversation was, and also aren't business deals made on golf courses, private jets, cigar bars , steak houses, and big office board rooms and not McDonald's with a 4 year old running around with a Lego Batman Happy Meal toy and my fat ass taking shots of sweet and sour sauce shoveling fries into my mouth?

I notice a sign promoting the free McCafe promotion. I decide that I am going to try one before I leave. I go up to the C.A. Cowboy behind the counter and put my order in for the Ice Mocha McCafe. He punches the order in then goes to this large stainless steal machine and flips open a laminated, illustrated instruction manual. He starts pulling levers, spinning cranks and after a minute or two my McCafe is done. He hands it over and I exit. I take a sip. Holy shit the stuff is strong. It was a bitter Mocha tasting latte. It wasn't very sweet, and I wasn't too wild about it. But,I needed caffeine and hell it was free. I make my way to work and I finish it right after I punch back in. Right away I feel the urge to piss. I figure OK, just like coffee. I go to the bath room and am done. 20 minutes later I got to piss again. OK, I figure I had a Diet Coke and a friggin McCafe. Then I get a feeling in my stomach like I may have to visit the Situation room and make a visit to my friend Tay Zonday so he can spin a Hot Track. It does not feel good at all. I go to the bathroom and take another piss. That's 3 pisses in about an hour. I start worrying and have an unnatural feeling in my stomach. I don't know if its the McCafe or just McDonald's in general. Then I'm not sure if the caffeine hits me but my head starts feeling weird, my body follows suit. I walk around the store a few times seeing if it was just because I'm tired or spacing out or what. I make my way back to my office, trying to sneak past any co-workers. One stops me and asks me how lunch was, I explained I got the new McCafe for free, and was not a fan as now I was feeling like garbage. She asked if it was very Mocha tasting, I answered "It needed more sugar or something, its was bitter as hell" I get to my office and sit down. I take off my sweat shirt and am sweating. My foot is tapping like crazy, my head is feeling weird and my stomach feels awful.I lifted my hand up and my fingers were twitching. I hung my head in my hands and I thought "what the fuck did I just drink" I thought my eye balls were going to burst. I could feel my heart speeding, I thought I could see my veins pumping blood through my arms.I muscle through the rest of my day. I will not be doing McCafe again, I'll stick to Monster Energy Drinks, Coors Light, Diet Cola and Iced Coffee.Please...tell me about the fucking golf shoes.

My VOCAB : Haitian Hotel

Hyde Park

If you've ever been in and around Hyde Park, Ma you've passed by numerous Haitian Hotels. Although some Haitian Hotels house Haitians, not all Haitian Hotels have to house Haitians to be considered Haitian Hotels. The Hatian Hotel is usually just a single apartment in a building or complex that houses a shit ton of people. In Hyde Park this is typical of three family homes having 1 unit of the triple decker housing anywhere from six (6) to thirty-five (35) Haitians. Hyde Park has a high concentration of Haitians immigrants in the community. The 32 unlimited bus on the T runs from the streets of Port-au-Prince to Forest Hills via Hyde Park Ave. Most Haitian Hotels can be spotted by hand fulls of Haitians hanging around a front yard, yards that have not been maintained, numerous hackney licensed vehicles/taxis in the driveway. Haitian men with blue tooth headsets (formerly just headsets) roaming the yard in button up shirts jeans and big brown Jesus sandles, yelling at their children and wives. On Sundays families dressed as if they were attending a wedding, and only going to mass. Other parts of Boston have Hatian Hotels where habitants are horded in like sardines. College area apartments, China town, South Boston etc etc. A hotel in Haiti... but not a Haitian Hotel

Music Review: NOW! by "The Civix"

I got an advance copy of the 10 track European debut album "NOW!" by electropop punksters The Civix featuring ex-members of "Greta and her Jetta" and "The Saab Mob". A brief history of the band: After spending a couple years on the underground European scene, some where between punk and electronica "Greta and her Jetta" and the "Saab Mob" starting playing more shows together and drawing more crowds as a team, rather than competing for the same audience. "Greta" front man Alejandro Schuster has been quoted as saying "...we all started going in the same direction, and our fan base grew. Both bands started playing out together and eventually we all started creating together." After a few singles and hidden tracks on each bands respective albums featuring the other bands members the line up was set swapping some of the members around. Schuster remained on vocals, occasionally backed up by guitarist Yves Ruggiero("Mob") , Pieter Del Mar("Mob") would drive the beat as the drummer, Frederick Rasmussen("Greta") took on the duties of synthesizers, sequencers and drum machines, Arturo Venman("Mob") holds down the low end on bass, and Reid Von Kohler("Greta") shreds and keeps the crowd's attention with brilliant riffs, articulate picking, and high octane stage presence as lead guitarist.
Now after I heard about the super group forming and touring through out Europe, I got excited as a fan of both bands, hoping they would release something more than a one off song on a compilation, or a few downloads on my space. After signing to Broken Water records in early 2008 they went into production on "Now!" in May. October 14 is the date for the slated official debut release across Europe for "The Civix"

The journey through "Now!" starts with a 2 minute long intro. The intro is a mash up of "Greta and her Jetta" and "Saab Mob" songs, in a way signifying the unification of the two. The mash up was a collaboration between Rasmussen and the albums producer Gar Von Neuss. After the short intro the album goes right into "Home is where you are" Right away Von Kohler shines with a buzz saw riff coming through your stereo. As the song builds Schuster goes from telling a story right into screaming with his unique vocal style and incredible range. The full song is an excellent start, although the synth is a tad over produced. The song winds down with an unforgettable bass line as the rest of the instruments and vocals drop out. The bass line picks up speed a bit then changes to the bass line of the next track titled "Running lines, doing circles" Venman's bass plays beautifully off of Rasmussen's synth work. The synth and drums start to sync up. As the guitars come in with an intense biting sound Schuster puts everything at peace with a harmony over the instruments and his range is really displayed as he sings lyrics about recreational drug use, turning into abuse and spilling over into work and losing everything with out realizing it. The song powers through 4 minutes and ends as your radio starts shaking prior to exploding.

Track seven seems to be the masterpiece of the record. It has a softer start than the previous songs. "Nobodies & nothings, know things" Kohler and Ruggiero come in with dueling acoustic guitars as a soft drum beat comes in. Venman starts in with a droning bass line that entrances as the guitars seem to fade into the background of the prominent bass. Electronic drums and synth come in. Rasmussen really gets to show his talent in this track as the music starts an odyssey which comes back around after 4 minutes to Kohler and Ruggiero's guitar playing. The same opening riff is now with electric guitars with plenty of crunchy distortion. Schuster has some vocal work on this and it fits in, and seems more like an instrument than vocals and lyrics. The high light of the album in my opinion.

Track 8 is a song a little out of the usual style of the band. It is a catchy up beat pop punk song derivative of some of the more popular bands of the moment, Fall out boy, Panic at the disco and My Chemical Romance. Schuster over sings, the song is over produced, minimal electronic influence, more emphasis on harmonics and guitar work and Venman's bass almost disappears shadowing Ruggiero's chords. Possibly an attempt to show their range for any prospective record execs in America , or maybe a poor attempt to try their hand at pop punk.

Tracks 9 and 10 are each a live performance of "the Civix" line up doing a new interpretation of a"Greta and her Jetta" and a"Saab Mob" song respectively. The same two songs featured in the opening mash up to bring everything full circle.

I left a few tracks out of the review because I felt they were songs that met the baseline expectations of this band. The songs were basically filler. I'm hoping for the album to find enough success here in the states for a tour so I could see the live show. So keep an eye out for a Oct 14 European release. Try to track down an online order, or the import bin at the local music store (possibly Newbury Comics) and give this new and exciting band a listen.

my chipotle experience

Working in the greater metro west rt 9 area I have a large assortment of eateries. Sushi, burgers, pizza,chain restaurants, expensive steak houses,fast food so on so forth.I work in a large shopping plaza and have 45 minutes for break every day. That limits me to ordering ahead and fighting weekend mall traffic, or eating in a Taco Bell. I was excited months ago when I saw a Chipotle Mexican burrito bar was coming soon on the opposite side of the parking lot. Having enjoyed Chipotle once or twice before, I was excited knowing it was the shit and coming. I've experienced a lions share of Mexican style food and burritos. Taco Bell, Qdoba, mom and pop burrito joints in downtown Boston,Acapulco's,stands, Tina's microwave burritos,Anna's taqueria, Sunset Cantina ,a small taqueria in Waltham, Carl's and the list could go on for decades. I took my first journey to Chipotle Thursday at approximately 2pm.I was excited, the smell of burrito and burrito components filled my nostrils. My pupils dilated. I was ready, I get to the front door and there was some fucking heifer with a clip board and coupons talking to some one blocking the door way. I figured OK..it was grand opening day, maybe some promotion for filling out a survey. I had no interest in waiting so I tried to sneak around her. The cow opened her mouth, her utters swayed as she mooed out " do you have an invitation?" In the back of my mind I thought this was some sort of exclusive burrito club and felt rejected. In a half joking way I reached into my pocket and pulled out a $10 and said "yea...isn't this what people need to get in?" Har har Unamused, Bessie huffed a huge sigh through her snout that was missing the cliche gold ring and said " Today is an invitation only opening. Tomorrow is the grand opening to the public." What the fuck? The customer is always right, I had $ and a desire to check their place out. I went to Brueggers next door and got a Herby Turkey sandwich and went back to work somewhat fuming. When I got to my place of work one of the employees made it know to me that on Wednesday, my day off the lovely people at Chipotle came by and gave out 50 free burrito/private opening invitations for the employees and that they had set 4 aside for me. A crushing blow to my nuts. As I ate my Herby Turkey on a bagel softwich.

Friday:

At approximate 230pm I went on break. Arrived at Chipotle 5 minutes later for attempt #2. This time went a little better, I was not greeted by an over zealous bovine bouncer at the door. The line was reasonably short, however most people were new to the world of burrito construction,ordering and consumption. A 10 minute lecture on the difference between roasted chili corn salsa vs medium tomatillo green salsa (which is not very green) vs guacamole which is green but not a salsa. And black vs pinto beans was over heard between a Chipotle shredded beef slinger and some old geezer.

My turn is up. Having an infinite amount of time to study,memorize and become quite versed with the menu, I stepped up and spit out my order with exact order and precision. Chicken burrito, black beans,chili corn salsa little bit of sour cream and cheese. I was greeted by a red haired round red faced rotund Irish woman with a southern accent. while I was rattling my order off she interrupted me at every syllable asking me if I was sure , and told me my other options. I was trying to keep things moving smoothly and she bogged me down. I was annoyed.she could tell after she told me that the hot salsa was hot and mild was a little bit and medium was in between. As I approached the point of sale I noticed a small printed out sign that says " starting at 3:00pm ,the first 300 customers will receive a free shirt, drink and a coupon for a free burrito on their next visit". I looked at my cell phone clock. 2:48. I asked if I could get that stuff 12 minutes early...the supervisor running the register area said sorry. 3:00pm means 3:00 pm. I was not happy, I asked for my soda cup and went to the soda fountain. I inspected the choices. Typical Coke, Diet Coke, Lemonade, Root Beer, Sprite and water. I filled up on Diet Coke, then saw they had a variety of Tabasco brand hot sauces, that served some relief. I took my burrito in the plastic basket and soda and sat in a corner on a fairly comfortable chair. On top of a marble table w/ stainless steel trim. Looking at the menu and checking out the front line.lo and behold the same red haired round red faced rotund Irish woman with a southern accent.was not interrupting any one else who was ordering their burrito. And it was getting close to 3:00 pm. Shirts started appearing. Coupons were being handed back with change and cups were stacked up and handed out to all who came. Sitting with my burrito in defeat I figured that the heifer from Thursday pointed me out for being a dick with a lame joke trying to get in. A wanted poster or "bust this guys balls bulletin" was handed out with my picture. Saturday: I went back again. With back up. A co-worker of mine. He isn't a big burrito guy but I sold the burrito at the place being top shelf. I explained that the Taco Bell burritos or the 50 cent burritos from 7-11 freezer were nothing compared to Chipotle's. This shit was the real deal. So on the walk over he asks what they had for meat and I gave him a run down of the menu. I got my order in my head. Shredded beef, rice black beans, grilled vegs cheese and guac. He took some time and decided on chicken and such. As we approach the outdoor patio I see the red haired round red faced rotund Irish woman with a southern accent. grilling me. I figured since she was inhaling her burrito I'd have no problem in line ordering. I see the staff....no one I had seen the previous day. The people running the show looked of questionable citizenship and legal work age. I had to explain my order three times and point to each ingredient due to a possible hearing problem on their behalf or a language barrier. My burrito came out up to snuff, and I sat on a stool at a table with Dave as two C.A.Cowboys scratched scratch tickets next to us uncomfortably close and taking up as much room as possible. Tuesday: Trip #3 went worlds better.I walked in, made small talk about weather and local restaurants as my order was put together and I peppered in chicken, black beans, grilled vegs and green salsa. There was no line, no issues regarding me getting my order. I got iced tea which was phenomenal. The burrito was on point. Maybe the grand opening weekend kinks were worked out.

Ill be going back again.