The intellectual equivalent of a ham sandwich.

Posts tagged ‘pizza’

The Porn Industry and the Ever-Increasing Rise of Robot Technology

We’ve got a real dilemma on our hands here, don’t we porn industry?

I am going to be bold and predict that in 10 years all of the major pizza chains, your Papa Johns, your Pizza Huts, your Dominoes, your … other ones? … will no longer be hiring delivery boys or girls. Nope. It’ll be self-driving cars. Your pizza will ACTUALLY show up still hot because the car will be a self-driving, 200 degree pizza toting pal.

Sure, sure, that’s all well and good for the average pizza consuming person but … what about the porn industry?

Are we to expect that extraordinarily desperate and lascivious women are waiting, scandily clad, by their door for the pizza … vehicle?

IMG_20180818_072724578

The pizza of choice for Racist Robots.

I don’t think so.

Car: ‘Pizza for customer … Wanda Bang.’
Women who just dropped her towel: ‘Oh … hi. Self-driving Ford Fiesta. I’ll just take the pizza. Thanks.’

Yes, people are weird. SUPER WEIRD. But how big is the market for girl on truck action? Like, not literally girl ON truck … clearly there is a market for that based on how many rednecks you see with bumper stickers of women on their trucks. No I mean girl on truck as in like … you know … that thing …

I don’t know what to do. Slow down technological progress? Stop it altogether? Pretend delivery boys still exist? New porn ‘plots’?

I’m afraid I don’t have any solutions, but I just wanted to point out the problem and hope the internet hive mind can come up with a brilliant solution.

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First Meal

Because of digestion issues that our son has, my wife has willingly sacrificed my primary food group, dairy, and another food that is apparently in everything – soy.

My wife is pretty ok with this, it’s worth it to be able to breastfeed him. If she didn’t drop those two foods we would have to give him some crazy formula. (Normal formula has dairy.)

Sometimes, scratch that, often, she likes to talk about her first meal. This, as opposed to a last meal for a death row inmate, is the first meal she’ll have when she is allowed to eat whatever she wants (most kids outgrow this issue by 1 year old … and regardless of that, he’ll stop breastfeeding at some point).

Pizza. Pizza is always mentioned at the first meal. We made a non-dairy, non-soy pizza. Non-dairy cheese is weird. It doesn’t melt. You throw it in the oven, check 10 minutes later and there it is, just laughing. ‘You thought I would melt? Who do you think is in charge here? You? … Hmph.’

NewYorkSlices

Hello, beautifuls.

Following that would be ice cream. There is non-dairy, non-soy ice cream (and you may find it funny I have to keep mentioning soy … seriously, that sneaks into everything). But, like the pizza, it’s almost ice cream. Sometimes my wife and I will both have ice cream (with me having the real stuff) and I can feel her looking at me. Well, not me, but my ice cream. There’s sadness in them there dairy-free looks.

My woes are a trifling concern next to my wife’s … but I am also greatly looking forward to the return of ordering pizza.

And let’s be honest with ourselves – the first meal won’t be A meal. It’ll be an ongoing love fest of old favorite foods and restaurants. We have discovered two restaurants that say, ‘yeah we can do no-dairy, no-soy’ and they ACTUALLY do it. Other places say that, but as I have repeated several times already, soy is a tricky devil. How do we know that soy snuck in to their food? Well, the kiddo is uncomfortable and a few tiny specks of blood show up in his stool. The body can’t handle what the body can’t handle.

It sounds bad, I know, but his body is ok, so don’t you worry about our sweet little tiny tyrant.

Here’s my prediction:

  • Night one: pizza and ice cream
  • Night two: chicken, salad (with a dressing containing soy)
  • Night three: going out to eat (Mexican I hope)
  • Night four: sandwiches! With cheese and typical bread!
  • Night five: going out to eat (sushi – a personal favorite of hers, eh for me)
  • Night six: goldfish, ice cream, chocolate, cheese and sausage and crackers
  • Night seven: just a large bowl of salad and our old forgotten friend during this week, veggies

Beautiful Colorado

Colorado

We drove to the top of Pike’s Peak (14,000+ feet up there!) which was frightening at times but awesome.

 

Colorado

 

Colorado

I wish I’d taken a photo to show off the scary drop.

 

Colorado

This pizza was fantastic. And they gave you honey to finish off the large non-pizza’d part of the crust!

 

Colorado

At my friend’s wedding we had a wonderful view AND rabbit guests.

Capturing a New Audience

I’ve decided that I think I want to capture a new audience.

Drunk people!

I’m not going to do this in some sad way like giving recipes for booze, or telling you where the best pizza is (that delivers). No! I’m going to do this in an intelligent, clever way.

I’m going to rely on drunks spelling errors!

Let’s say it’s 2:40 am. A few drunk buddies have just returned home. They are HUNGRY. Man why didn’t you get a frozen pizza or something you JERK. One of them, the least drunk, notices the computer. He sits down and pops up his favorite search engine (google), and types in:

“24/7 pizza delivery”

Only wait, he’s drunk.

“274 piza delifyry”

Oh, hello drunkard! No pizza here, just a bunch of hits for good ol’ DumbFunnery.com! Sure, they’ll laugh at me! Call me dumb, call me crazy, call me a drunk! But I’ll be the one getting all the drunk hits with my new, brilliant tagging system! Every post will be tagged with something clever like:

  • piza
  • chnese food sale
  • drunk funy
  • unsnd txt messag
  • hot ttis chck
  • cragslst misdd msisd missd connectins

What a Utility Bag

At the end of youth soccer leagues we would have a nice trophy presentation. This was a big deal for me, as I was convinced the more trophies I had the better I was. This was an ingrained FACT.

And, sorry, ribbons don’t count as trophies. A trophy is something you can throw and do damage with. Just ask a certain cousin of mine.

Growing up I played soccer, and in middle school and for half of high school I ran cross country. Soccer was my only source of trophies. (I only got ribbons for cross-country. Stupid ribbons.) I needed these trophies, too. They proved … something!

In the fourth grade, in my mind, I was a soccer wiz. I was the tops. The cat’s pajamas. The bees knees.

But, my growth in the soccer skills department stopped there. I kept getting older, but my body relished that fourth grade talent. Improve with age? I don’t think so. I’m good where I am.

Fortunately, when you play on youth soccer leagues no one can get cut.

I tended to sit at the start of games, but I got a pretty good amount of playing time, and I occasionally did something well (intentionally or not, it’s all about how nonchalant you act after something good happens).

The worst time of the year to have no talent was at the trophy presentation. That’s when it really hit home for me.

The coach would stand up and say a few words about the team, the season, the fun, the game! Yeah, we learned a lot from these talks (“pass me another slice,” “Brad, shhh!, your coach is talking!,” “…so do I not get another slice?”)

After the introductory remarks, the coach would announce a player’s name. That player would go to stand beside the coach and beam as the coach went on about their talents.

“Ben scored the most goals!”

“Tony was non-stop, he was always making a play!”

“Nobody could stop our goalie!”

But what if said player lacked in the talent field?

“Brad, come on up here! …” (He’s holding the trophy.) “Brad’s a real great kid.” (Just give me the trophy and let me get back to my pizza.) “We could put Brad in anywhere in the game, whenever we needed him.” (Wait … is that an insult or a compliment?) “He’s a great utility player!” (CRAP! It’s an insult.)

Utility!? Utility?!?!

My coach called me a tool.

Weekly Wacko (52)

Bottle + Emotions = Manliness

Obviously guys aren’t alone in this trend, but they tend to represent it.

Today I was doing some work when one of my boss’s walked up. He stood in the middle of the cube hallway and looked left and right, between myself and another guy. Then he said, “I’m trying to decide who to tell this story to, who would find it funny.”

I turned to give him my attention, so he started telling it.

Apparently every Thursday he does the same order from a pizza place for his daughters. He’ll call up, tell them the order, pay the same price, and wha-la. Last week he ordered and the delivery was really late, which prompted him to call and complain. The pizza place apologized and took five dollars off his order. No biggie. Wellll, the ‘funny’ part of the story is that he called today and again it was five dollars off. My boss figured they entered the five dollars off in a computer and it wasn’t entered as a one-time thing, but accidentally as a permanent thing. He was laughing at, I guess, people’s dependence on computers (an ironic thing for a computer programmer to laugh at I would think).

Anyhow. He was tickled while telling this story and then joking about it with us. I recommended he call and complain a few times, and eventually the delivery guy will arrive with two pizzas and twenty bucks to give him.

The story didn’t do much for me, but I really liked my boss because he did something I (and probably many people) do. He was very excited about something but didn’t necessarily want to talk about it or share those feelings, so instead he was unnecessarily giddy/happy about something that really didn’t warrant it.

His wife was/is in the Philippines and there was a scare for a while because he hadn’t heard from her (for my/whoever’s future reference – there was a hurricane that hit there). Today he got some great news, she’ll be back home tomorrow. Big sigh of relief.

My boss heard this and just kind of wandered around smiling and cracking jokes, trying to find some way to deal with, I would imagine, how relieved and happy he was feeling. I suppose he could’ve bear-hugged random people walking by, but he’s a pretty strong-looking dude and that may have killed some of our older co-workers.

Anyhow – I really enjoy that. I think it’s a common trait and it’s great to see.

Now, here are two little wrinkles to this story.

One, my boss at one point said to someone, “I’m not excited about the pizza, I’m relieved because my wife is coming home.” This ruins my whole being manly and projecting emotions into another story angle.

The other way it was ruined a bit was this hysterical/lame quote from my boss. After saying how relieved and happy he was to get to see his wife again and know she’s safe and it’s good for their daughters and this and that … “Also I get to play golf Saturday!”

Emotions, huh? So complex and golf-oriented.

De Jour of the Week (3/29/10)

I’m trying to get back into jogging. After I finish a few things I’m heading out to jog! The weather is awesome out – so how can I not go jogging right now? But really, there’s a Papa Johns by me which means I eat Papa Johns regularly now because MAN that smells so good.

3/29/10

Get FIT!

OK self, you can do this
No … not strong enough, you CAN DO THIS!

Mentally psyched? Check.
Physically psyched? Not check.

Every time I think about starting to work out
I think about that vacation in 4 weeks and how that’ll cause a productivity drought
“I’ll be in the swing of things, then vacation will derail me!” I pout,
‘Working out will just have to be put off’ I think, ‘about it there is no doubt.’

I shake it off and think, no, no, you can do this
That’s right – you CAN DO THIS!

Oh wait, my sneakers are in such bad shape
I’ll get blisters and then my foot I’ll have to tape
You see, that’s yet another plausible escape

Forget that! bring on a wicked blister!
Well … No … Don’t bring on a wicked blister
But bring on the workout, no more excuses, mister!/ (not to be sexist)sister!

Yes, I’m shaking it off – I know I can do this
Yeah, I said it, I said I know I CAN DO THIS!

My workout clothes on, I’m starting to stretch
I feel gross already. Does jogging go with a lunch of tex-mex?

Ignore the voices inside my head
Also, ignore my body which is thinking of my bed
My comfortable, comfortable, non-judgmental bed …

No! Stop that! who can do this?
Um? … I? … Can do this?

Uh oh, I’m losing steam
Would taking a nap in work-out clothes be some gym-rat blaspheme?

Quiet, self, picture rock hard abs!
Then picture me being in decent enough shape to date someone with rock hard abs!

I guess … yeah … I guess you can do this?
Yeah! … yeah! … I can probably do this!

I’m out the door, no more thinking!
(Plus I’ve decided my reward for this ‘workout’ will be that buffet for all-you-can-eating-and-drinking)
Yes, dear self, work out some then you can make yourself into stuffing

400 calories burned!
2000 calories earned!!!

Yeah, I can do totally do this
Eyes on the prize and I CAN DO THIS!

Oh sweet Lord what is that glorious smell?
Every neighbor is out cooking – burgers, steak, pizza! – this is hell

You’re taunting me, world
My plan you want unfurled!

Quick, run away from those … do I smell a bakery? … NO! I CAN DO THIS!
I think I’m … yes … I’m actually doing this!

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