Denny's

I have resorted to drinking Chivas Regal.  It tastes like the pain of a million Na'vi.  But a pain that can be bottled and sold on itunes at a premium in the form of I-dose... This particular glass of Chivas was poured by the lovely Sandra, a Sudanese transsexual with a heart of gold, but i digress. 

Denny's, lets see, Denny's, who is Denny, an asshole?! "Whoa" says my high school English teacher "easy on the comma splices!" I have no patience for Denny's, or broads that cheat........  Can I buy a vowel? Oh wait, wrong reality! Recently I had the displeasure of coming into contact with not one, but two Denny's locals.  I take that back, it was actually the same Denny's, just days apart on a to and from road trip. I was once told by a wise sage that the flow chart, if you will, of these breakfast/garbage eateries goes as such: Denny's<iHop<Waffle House.  Whilst I disagree with the said Waffle House mention I will note such statement as ignorance to the power of iHop.  I would love to be there at the conception of the Denny's franchise.  Apparently Denny's was Danny's Donuts before taking the Denny's name.  No idea how they came up with Denny's, maybe you should consult the meth dealer down the street.  I'm sure he could pass on his knowledge, or just sell you meth.

Upon entering said Denny's I was greeted by a creature that we will refer to as Project A.1, as the nuclear plant is only moments away.  After slipping in Project A.1's slug-trail multiple times before making it to our dining local, I took notice of my fellow patrons.  I'm not sure if it was my recent shower or simply my mastery of the English language, but one of the two forced the masses to stare.  As I powered up my Dragon Shout to teach these mere morals a valuable lesson, I was interrupted by my sweet mother informing me we had arrived at our table.  I nodded with agreement, but my dragon rage seethed upon seating.

After cracking the liquid-sugar-incrusted menu, I took notice of the reason for American obesity.  Deciding on egg whites and other seemingly healthy Denny's garbage I made note of one such item.  There so happened to be a sandwich version of Denny's "famous" grand slam breakfast.  Basically, the geniuses at Denny's Corp. (LOL) decided to cram everything included in the "grand slam" into sandwich form, hilarious.  I must say, I was kind of impressed by their thoroughness. Nothing was left out, including the pancakes!  After seeing this menu item, I promptly asked the waitress if they could possibly put the grand slam in shake form, you know, from the blender.  To which she replied with a very unimpressed "No" and a scowl from my parents...

Wait, the Chivas well has run dry?! How is this possible? I was under the impression that all things in life were continuous! So my life will end? How can I make plans when all things will come crashing to a halt? IM SO CONFUSED... back to Denny's.  The breakfast/lunch "entree" that I received on this the 28th year of my life, was subpar to say the least.  In fact, when I went out back to have a smoke with the Mexican busboy i tried to feed a stray dog my eggs.  This offer was met with the pup standing up on his hind legs and paw slapping me across the brow and calling me an asshole. Best restaurant ever!

"The Relic" Reference?

I gotta be honest, I have watched "The Relic" twice this week on demand in HD.  While you may think this has nothing to do with Whole Foods, you are are an idiot and of course wrong.  If Whole Foods existed in Chicago of the mid 90s then Stan Winston's creature could of sought out hypothalamus glads not of living human prey, but that of the organic variety sold next to the olive bar adjacent to the earlobe stretching station. They are quite tender after being soaked in whole milk and left out in the sun for several days later to be smeared with mayonnaise.

Ok, I have no problem with health.  A persons health is all they have, of course.  Without your health, you are dead and can't reproduce children that will inevitably be a disappointment as after they pursue an overpriced 7 year undergraduate degree in creative-writing/philosophy from a mountain college leading to a state of extended adolescence that lasts well into their 30s resulting in a move back to their childhood bedroom only to be unexpectedly more entitled and messy than before, WTF?! Whole Foods promotes health, right? Organic food is healthier, right? Somebody fucking answer me here?! The answer is....

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Thats a shrug emoticon, because I'm the best!  Prove to me that the canned organic corn is better than the canned Value brand corn.  Prove it, DO IT! You can't, but you still buy the overpriced organic canned corn garbage because the invisible hand of the marketing geniuses that decided to put the word organic on anything and sell it at a premium in a store that only sells organic products want you to.  I guarantee you that the migrant worker's sweat  that I unknowingly consumed due to me refusing to wash anything off before eating/opening, is 100% as organic as that of the 365 brand's migrant worker's. 


Lets examine Hayden, not only does Hayden have a last name for a first name he is also an underemployed moutain college graduate who after graduation realizes that his English degree is for nothing and must descend unto the masses and get a job in the service industry. "I couldn't possibly work in a mall setting, as that is completely beneath me" he mutters into the dark void of this shapeless life. "I understand that Whole Food hires weirdos who make the everyday patron feel completely inferior and uncomfortable, possibly I should choose this venue to showcase my crapulence"he is heard screaming during uncontrollable fits of rage and manic depression episodes that carry on long into the moonless night.  



In a previous life my ex significant other would have me purchase four $7.00 bottles of organic grapefruit juice weekly squeezed by Hades himself and willed into half gallon plastic containers to be consumed  by schmucks on the banks of the river Styx. I remember trying to joke around with the cashier, Charles the son of Hades (myth will tell of Hades having no son, but I know otherwise), of my local Whole Foods about the absurd price.  My jokes were met with looks of fiery hatred, which later made me realize that 200 years ago a look of that nature would of been taken as a direct insult leading to the possible legal death of the said aggressor at the hands of the offended.  Have we come so far that a fucking 25 year old Prius driver with a bluebird tattoo on his left nonexistent pectoral dictates how I should feel about myself at time of purchase?  If anything, this halfheadshaven child needs to be kissing my feet as I am the least pretentious person he will see until his shift ends. 


OK, im done discussing whole foods.  Anybody else wanna pick up this topic? IM TRYING TO POWERLEVEL SMITHING IN SKYRIM FOR CHRIST'S SAKE!


Who has been messing with my medication?


Asshole.Of.The.Moment

Joey Pellegrino

Dingo: Hang on a second... Let me take a large final swig of this Maker's I've got right here.  Ahhh, that was delicious! The bite of being an adult, thats what Maker's tastes like to me.  The realization that there are no more summer breaks and that people will always disappoint you, so delicious!

Let's move on shall we.  Move on to the subject at hand.  Move on to the real reason we are here. Move on to discussing assholes who drink Pellegrino.  Sigh, even typing the product's name rages me.   If hell had a beverage of choice it would be pellegrino (not going to capitalize it anymore).  I want to pull my attention away from the product itself, because there is a possibility that you may enjoey a nice warm glass of this shit, who am i to judge? No wait, I am here to judge!  Some people like being shit on and tied to a tree and left for a week, so anything is possible.

This photo was sent in by "conepile", who shall remain anon...FOR NOW!

Lets take a step back and have a look at the situation we have before us.  Lets examine the workstation of Brandon, here.  Looks to be a company appointed ThinkPad, fine.  Notebook, why? Pencil, really?! Blackberry on the table, worst.  pellegrino, now you're an asshole! What is that a fucking liter?! Someone should of taken it, poured it into Brandon's fedora and refilled the bottle with hate exuded from the pours of Inzo, a middle aged Italian man, bred of strong stock, but susceptible to pleasures of the flesh and that of the opiate nature who sold his shares of pellegrino only days before American assholes realized how cool the bottle looks crammed against a macbook, ipod, iphone, and mens eyeliner in a purse suited for a gentleman. Now does Brandon here carry that bottle around with him all day?  Does he realize that the nature of carbonation is not that of hydration, but quite the opposite?! Does he realize that the blonde next to him loathes him for more reasons than the pellegrino but rather that she had a secret lust for brandon, which lead to obsession which caused her to touch the void between reality and the unconscious somewhere among heaven, hell, and the Tron grid?! Of course he doesn't realize any of these things!  He skates a line that only consists of a number of variables: Whole Foods (which I will touch on in a later post), iTunes, Income, and Shelter and a compost pile that he has been meaning to contribute to for weeks, but "this lousy weather has prevented me from getting into the backyard for weeks now" (I hate you).

The simple motion of unsheathing a bottle of pellegrino is an act of intellectual war!  By showing everyone at the table that you are sophisticated enough to drink this garbage already has people hating you. As for the individuals who are unaware of this product, their response would of course be confusion, confusion leads to fear, fear then results in hatred. It's the goddamn nature of the beast, people! If you want to be successful, leave your Smart Waters, Muscle Milks,  and Chai Tea Lattes at home and bring a fucking Dixie Cup and full that bitch with tap water!  People will think you are a goddamn madman and follow you to the ends of the earth! BEST!...wait, i mean worst!

Direct-zolfuckall RNA

Dingo: Ahh yes, a submission from a lovely blog viewer.  Before I begin to dissect this loverly piece of advert, let me offer you praise on the HD quality image. This .jpg  makes me seethe with testosterone fueled anticipation that I might one day place my stamen anywhere around those porcelain veneers.

"High quality RNA from Tri-Reagent or similar acid-guanidinium-phenol reagents" Fuck, and I thought I was about to get a blowjob from a reasonably attractive Puerto Rican!? Lets take a step back and think about the ad wizards that decided to go with this concept. I will bet that there was one Harvard MBA that suggested they simply provide a list on benefits from Direct-zolfuckall RNA.  He was promptly fired and made to work at a customer service hotline for reasonably priced prosthetics which eventually led to him severing his own leg due to his preexisting condition of self mutilation that he had fought for years, but the direct contact with amputees pushed his psychosis over the edge into Hunter S. Thompson territory!

"There is only one way to sell this product" says Mitchell Davidson (Mitch to nobody) an overweight 45 year old executive father of no one, husband of none, hailing from Lincoln Nebraska with a quite sizable SNES cartridge collection. "Give em the cum mouth!" While not exactly being Don Draper, Mitch tends to opt for the "cum mouth" approach on many of his ad campaigns.  The only real reason that Mitch is even employed is due to the impending sexual harassment lawsuit that Mitch has been threatening for years after Penny Lawson CFO walked in on him wiping his ass after he failed to lock the porta john door on the company retreat 3 years ago to Mt. Rushmore. "Get it direct" Mitch screams over his coffee cup, obviously filled with rye, as he bangs his forehead against the conference room table.  Luckily the Japanese investors take this as a sign of autistic genius and decide to go with the campaign. Unbenounced to the members of the meeting, Mitch was actually talking to a schizophrenia induced voice of a shipping clerk, who does not exist, asking Mitch how he wants the new granite in his kitchen purchased. "No middle man" he mumbles, but too low to be audible over the screams of praise from Zymo Research as they had finally found a tagline for their new product.  Worst, Ever!

Cahs fro Glod

Cash for Gold, Cahs fro Glod, Ehfd ed Fdsc, you see what I did there?  Now listen, underpaid, disease ridden, GED having youth.  I want you to go find a job, any job.  Your grandparents did it,  your stepfather did it, even Ryan Phillips did it!  Go out into the wild and kill it and bring it home. Drag it back home for you to gut, clean and consume! Vanquish your enemies, rape their women and sell their children into slavery. Take your best friend's arm and break it!  And after you have broken it show it to him. Show him the power you have over his life and the lives of others! Show him how easily his hopes and dreams have been destroyed!...  Oh wait, you found a job?  So what are you doing? They make you wear what now?!

#OccupyCashForGold, worst.  Have we honestly come to the point where this makes sense? I have a great idea, lets take our gold along with all of our personal possessions to Middle-Earth and dump them into Mt. Doom.  In fact there may be a feeling of relief after ridding yourself of all those Gameboy Pockets you've been carrying with you since childhood. I would like to imagine that the gold suits provided are covered in real gold and that heavy metal poisoning is only moments away, worst.  Look, paying two men one step away from poverty to stand and be ridiculed my passersby as they wave goodbye to their future like a clown waiting for the big top to be set up only to realize that his wife and entire family have abandoned him because he chose the clown career instead of supporting his loving wife of 10 years, Barbara, is hilarious but ineffective.  

Question: Has one of these sign spinning, handstanding, meth smoking, people they pay to stand on the corner and wave, dance, listen to an iPod, ever attracted you to go the establishment advertised? Well has it!? No, of course it hasn't! Also, do you think that there has ever been an impromptu gold sale, ever?  A person who drives by and notices these individuals would never decide to just drop in for some quick cash from the gold on hand! Gold on hand, what is this Skyrim? "I only have my anniversary tennis bracelet to liquidate!? I guess its going to have to go!" Worst Ever!

WIFI Brandon

Ah yes, another morning of unlimited coffee enemas and toilet Angry Birds. Let me just select the cute little icon on the second page of my iPhone home screen... BOOM! "Select a Wireless Network" It is far TOO early for someone to tell me to "GOFUCKYOURSELF". This little gem would pop up every morning during said toilet adventure. Now I know that some of you will tell me to turn off the WIFI to my phone, but I'm not going to do that. In the beginning, I must say that I was enamored with the thought that someone would take the time to rename their WIFI network with such a lovely slogan of good will towards men. After many months of viewing said network I began to grow bitter and realized what a huge asshole this individual must be! We have all gone through the process of setting up a WIFI network I assume, making this caps driven name assignment ludicrous. Ok, I will give the subject in question a little relief if the setup wizard on this particular device was possibly very annoying and filled with flash animation. Let me take you through the potential steps that our neighbor here may have gone through when choosing to give his wireless network such a crass handle.

1. "Oh, my wireless router came in the mail. Let me abstain from hardwired Internet pornography, for something a little more adventurous, say from the couch?"

2. "Oh how cute, there is a wizard on the front of the box stating that he is the setup wizard and that he will be my guide on the adventure that is WIFI setup."

3. "So, there is no option not to use the wizard? He is full of flash animation which causes my Sony Vaio laptop circa 1999 with 250mb of Ram to become severely bogged down.

4. "Ok, fuck, now the wizard is asking me personal questions? “Do I believe in God?" What the fuck is this?"

Setup Wizard: "Your path has been a righteous one, on this being the first metonic cycle in your lifetime would you please provide me with a well thought out and appropriate name for your recently installed WIFI device?"

5. "GOFUCKYOURSELF" and close scene...

There is also the option that WIFI Brandon over here, from the depths of his Marlboro Red cocoon, has simply chosen the name based on his philosophical opinion of mankind. Oh, how I long to read the manuscript titled "Seething" that he has been working on for 15 years now. “They don’t understand my voice” he can sometimes be heard screaming into his body pillow. Look asshole, anyone can by a t-shirt with “I write the words” screen printed on the front.  “If I had only lost my kissing virginity in high school before the obesity set in.” Who are you kidding Brandon, you have always been obese. What an asshole!

"I'll rate this place 2 stars"

 

Why is suddenly everyone with the internet instantly a food critic?  You download this bullshit app and just start blabbing away about how the fucking bread wasn't "up-to-par" at Subway.  No one cares what you think about the food.   This is the most flawed website and rating system on the internet.  Any "Farmville -I-just-locked-my-kid-in-a-hot-car-for-12-hours-so-I-can-rake-kabocha-for-horse-feed" mother can now access this site to complain about "lousy service" and that the Corn nuts at the local Circle K tasted "not the same".

I digress, my first experience w. a "Yelper" was not by choice.  I'm walking by some bullshit korean owned sushi shop and some office Brandon in hush-puppies walks out whilst careening over his iPhone 3G. "I'll give this 2 stars," he says.  Picture my face.  Utter horror and fear.  Imagine you're a new restaurant owner.  You have to boreass everyone you know for the first 3 months to give you 5 star ratings to counteract all the morons that go in there and comment that they got a fly in your food.  It's called protein Brad.  Don't go on the website and complain about the fucking SUSHI ROLLS if you are WHITE! Seriously, don't review on the site if you don't know what you're talking about (which is just about 99% of the people there).  These people blab for lengthy paragraphs on sauces being runny, pasta overcooked, and not enough sea-salt on your bullshit eggs.  It's food, put it in your fucking mouth.  Don't rely on Yelp, half of these people i'd use for a meatshield against an oncoming hay-bailer. 

The next time you opt to visit a restaurant via Yelp, read the 2nd page, not the first.  You'll see how many non-sequitur comments and irrelevant crap is interlaced into their fickle rating of the place that just seems absolutely delicious. Embrace the hate - bon apetit!