Easter, Politics, The FINGER and the Indians.
I have way too many things in my head this week so this rant is kind of all over the place.
Easter has come and gone. Easter, the religious holiday where Christians around the world celebrate the death and resurrection of our Lord Jesus Christ by eating marshmallow “Peeps” and hollow chocolate rabbits. Of course in certain parts of “red” states here in America they roast their “Peeps” over a burning book fire.
Now the Halloween and Christmas displays can go up.
This diet is making me a tad edgy.
It was brought to my attention that I talk a lot about food in my weekly rants. That’s because I’m on a diet and I love reminiscing. There are only two things that make me cry, the movie The Godfather and thinking back on all the wonderful food I’ve eaten, especially the veal, oh God the veal, those tender fillets sautéed in butter and wine… I think I’m going to weep. Maybe if they grew diet food in a cage so it couldn't move it would taste better.
Thinking about food helps me forget. It’s like that song, “I simply remember my favorite things and then I don’t feeeeeeeel sooooo bad.” (Half of you will have that song running through your heads for the rest of the day. The other half needs to go out now and rent the Sound of Music.)
Why do I have this image of George Bush and Dick Cheney singing that song with Condaleeza Rice and Donald Rumsfeld leading John Kerry and Ted Kennedy in the backup vocals?
Don’t worry I won’t get political. I’m just convinced that all governments are either led by religious fanatics or space aliens. Don’t get me wrong our religious fanatics and space aliens seem to be a lot better than everyone else's.
My favorite news item this past week was about the woman who found a finger in her chili at Wendy’s. I should mention that this finger wasn’t attached to anyone. It was just a lone well-manicured and well-cooked finger.
I love the fact that the employees at the Wendy’s store were asked to show investigators “their” fingers.
Wendy's official spokesman Joe Desmond said the company was cooperating with the investigation and that all employees’ digits were accounted for. "It's important not to jump to conclusions," he said. "Here at Wendy's we plan to do right by our customers."
Umm…there was a finger…in your chili…. Just what kind of conclusions did you think we were going to jump to? Does Wendy’s think that we think that they think that they can get away with serving fingers in their chili?
Movie moment, “WENDY’S CHILI IS MADE FROM PEOPLE!” Let me know if any of you know can guess the movie I was thinking of.
I’m going to go out on a “limb” here and say there’s an illegal alien working at a food processing plant in Chowchilla they now call “Senorita Izquierda”. (look it up)
How do you get the job of “official” spokesman for Wendy’s? I’m thinking that Joe Desmond is someone who got dragged out of the mailroom because no one else wanted to talk to the press.
Wouldn’t is be nice to have an official spokesman to field all the grief your life?
“As Bob’s official spokesman I’d like to inform you that he is unable to come to work today. Why? I’m afraid we have no comment at this time.”
Wouldn’t an official spokesman come in handy in relationships?
“As your husbands official spokesman I have been authorized to tell you that yes, those jeans do make your ass look fat.”
“As your boyfriends official spokesman I would like to inform you that he is going out with his buddies Saturday night, he will get drunk, go to a strip club and come home at 4:00am with a hooker from Tijuana. Do we have any questions?”
You couldn’t pay that guy enough money.
Speaking of money my wife and I went to an Indian Casino. We went with a group of people on a bus, which is kind of like going out west in a covered wagon only instead of finding gold you end up panning through an all you can eat seafood buffet. (Yeah, I know, food again.)
I find it amusing that people drive out to the boonies, (weren’t there any Indian tribes that had their land in Mission Valley?) down some long winding road of death, to get to an Indian casino so they can be surrounded by Asians, white trash, the elderly, and cigarette smoke.
Apparently the slot machines come with oxygen tanks because all the old people are plugged into them with plastic cords. I guess that’s so they can smoke and breathe at the same time.
They have slot machines you can play for as little as one cent or as much as one hundred dollars. ONE HUNDRED DOLLARS!!!!!!
You have to be a special kind of stupid to be throwing one hundred dollars a pop down a slot machine at an Indian casino. Why not just throw the money in your fireplace and save yourself the drive? Hell at one hundred dollars a pop it would be cheaper to just burn down your house.
I was watching this elderly gentleman play that one hundred dollar machine and he had this look in his eyes like he just wanted to piss off his kids by losing their inheritance. He was plugged into the machine so at least he could breathe.
Tell me why you would drive out to an Indian casino to play a one-cent slot machine? Are you hoping for that big twenty-dollar payout?
It took me a while to decide on which slot machine to play and then I thought to myself, "What would Jesus play?"
I chose the "Wheel of Fortune" dollar slot machines. Fortune was smiling on me and at one point I was actually up seven hundred dollars.
Apparently "fortune" is also very loud because my wife heard me and took all my winnings.
My wife doesn't play the slots.
My wife only bets on a sure thing.
She plays the outlet mall.