Friday, April 29, 2011

I Make Another Dumb Sandwich

A long time ago, I watched a TV show about a man and his dream. In this man's dream, he made a peanut butter and tuna fish sandwich. This show was The Office, and the man was Michael Scott. I'm not going to draw that part out.

http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/d/dc/MichaelScott.png
This fuckass.

In episode twenty-three of season five, Scott says the following:

"I once had a dream... that I was eating a peanut butter and tuna fish sandwich. And, let me tell you something, it was delicious. So the next day, I decided to make that sandwich. And in real life it is disgusting."

Well, I was intrigued. Being a well-known practitioner of Combining Food That isn't Usually Combined, having many published and famous papers on the applications of applesauce to meats and baked goods, and having the Umlaut under my belt, I decided I should attempt to recreate Michael Scott's dream and decide once and for all: how bad could it be?

It was a week before I could gather the materials needed to craft what I have christened the Michael Scott, mostly because we didn't have any canned tuna, which is, depending on how you look at it, either 1/4 or 1/3 the sandwich. Does the bread count as one ingredient or two? Does the bread count at all? Perhaps I should consider this some other time.

There was also the psychological aspect of this venture: what would everyone think of me? Will my experiments finally go too far and the Michael Scott will become the metaphorical Frankenstein's Monster and rend my pathetic mortal flesh (I never read the book, the monster did kill the scientist, right?)? Most signs pointed to me being a paranoid madman, but this was a fact I largely knew beforehand.
There was also ethics to consider. Science is bound by ethics, you see. How could I make a sandwich that I would potentially throw away and waste perfectly fine food when there were starving children in Africa? I then remembered I don't give a fuck, so that stopped being a problem.

So tonight I made the Michael Scott. And also took pictures.

http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XjDxF83sTW4/TbtnvTVqklI/AAAAAAAAAC8/vG5HbQVRKeg/s320/The%2BMichael%2BScott.JPG
What have I become?

I took that photo, then ate it. I was either expecting it to be horrendously godfuck awful or surprisingly amazing. If it was horrendously godfuck awful, I'd probably eat it anyway and swear profusely while I describe the taste. If it was surprisingly amazing, I'd eat it and swear profusely while I describe the taste. The truth was, it was neither of those things. It was...average.

Not for lack of trying. It was on the good side of average, but still fairly unremarkable once you get past the fact you are eating a peanut butter and tuna fish sandwich. At first, the tuna overpowers everything with its strong fish and dill taste, but the peabnut bubber leaves a pleasant aftertaste of...peanut butter. The Michael Scott is about as straightforward as a man punching you in the face repeatedly: very.

So in the end it wasn't actually as awful as Michael Scott said. Certainly no dream sandwich, but also not 'disgusting.' Make it once just to say you have, I guess is what I'm saying.

Man, first the hot god and then the Umlaut and now this? I should write a cookbook. I Say!: I Hate Everything's Guide to Fine Dining and General Cookery. That shit'd get on Opera right there.

Monday, April 25, 2011

I Hate Jelly Beans

I figure now is a good time as any to rant about things I hate that pertain to Easter, which is pretty much a holiday revolving around giant rabbits, fake grass, and eggs. Seriously, how does a rabbit lay eggs? This shit is dangerous to our childrens' understanding of basic science. Rabbits don't lay eggs. And while I could fill a list about everything Zombie Jesus Day does wrong, I have decided to pick something far more sinister than blatant scientific misunderstanding for the sake of selling plastic eggs filled with Reese's Peanut Butter Cups.
I'm talking about jelly beans.

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Look at those assholes.

I don't know if you've ever taken a break from shoving them down your fat gullets long enough to notice, but jelly beans are probably the most offensive thing known to mankind. More offensive than the Terminator sequels, more offensive than Nickelback at a metal show, more offensive than girls who think they know Journey singing Don't Stop Believin'. Jelly beans are serious fucking shit.

Take a good, hard look at that photo up there and notice the white ones. The white ones smell like a horse's asshole and look like tiny tumors removed from a fat man's neck fat. I'd tell you how they taste, but I've had the good judgment to never ever eat one, mostly because I don't have a death wish. What the fuck are they even supposed to be, coconut? I just call them white flavor, because fuck white flavor. It's even more useless than a white crayon, because white crayons don't disgust me.
Wikipedia tells me white flavor is either mint or lemonade, and this raises two very important questions: one, why would anyone cram a mint-flavored mound of high fructose corn syrup and preservatives while knowing it's completely disgusting, and two, lemonade is fucking yellow. My only conclusion from Experiment White Flavor Jelly Beans is "people are stupid."

On that note, let's talk about Bane of My Existence Number 31: black flavor.

http://www.thenutfactory.com/photos/candy-jellybeans-black.jpg
They hate your guts.

The thing about black flavor is there are only two kinds of people in the world: people who hate them (normal(ish) people) and people who love them (fucking insane people). Most people in the world fall into the former category, because even human stupidity has its limits. Unfortunately, some people are forever doomed to eat black flavor, which boldly calls itself 'licorice' under the assumption nobody knows what licorice actually tastes like. Though I'm no culinary expert, I've had real black licorice before, and it was an immensely unenjoyable experience, and I can safely say black flavor is not black licorice. Black flavor is divine fury flavor. Somewhere in the multiverse there is an extremely angry deity and this is his punishment. I cannot stress this enough, black jelly beans taste like the infinite anger of a divine being. The ones who like black flavor are just creepy masochists. Yeah, they like that punishment. They've been bad.
Also, the above photo makes them look like giant rabbit turds and, while appropriate for Easter, I don't like the notion of squeezing a rabbit and eating whatever comes out.

I'm starting to go off on a tangent. Let's talk about how they smell.
Imagine a bog. It's probably in Georgia and a family of rednecks has built their house next to it. The bogwater composition is around 30% feces, 20% oil, 15% plant scum, 15% also feces, 15% Swamp Thing, and 5% water. Now imagine the entire bog has been placed in a giant tank that is slowly leaking, probably because the rednecks were contracted to build it. When it leaks, it oozes out in gross little droplets. Now imagine the droplets are sold by the rednecks to candy companies as licorice flavor. That is what black flavor jelly beans smell like. Black flavor jelly beans smell like a bog that is mostly feces.

There is, however, one thing worse than black flavor. If black flavor was the wrath of an angry god, Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans are the work of Cthulhu, Satan, and Zalgo working together to slowly undo everything good humanity has ever accomplished.

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Pick your literal poison.

The Every Flavor Beans are a Voltron of indecency and poor decisions. Within one bag you will find dirt, earthworm, grass, vomit, earwax, sardine, vomit, soap, toasted marshmallow, buttered popcorn, black pepper, rotten egg, sand, paprika, frog legs, curry, toenails, onion, centipede, Worcestershire sauce, squid, Brussels sprouts, and booger, among other things. I distinctly remember attempting to eat these. Eating a bag of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans is like building a machine to punch you in the cock repeatedly: you don't know why you're doing it and it hurts like hell. I'm not exaggerating when I say eating these monsters hurt: the booger flavor very nearly made me hurl and I didn't touch any green, spherical food for a good month. The sardine flavor tasted like depression. I ate the grass flavor because it tasted like nothing and I'm pretty sure it was then, at the tender age of seven, that I lost all my hopes and dreams. I guess what I'm saying is Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans are designed to destroy humanity, one small mind at a time.
They also claim to have a bacon flavor. I have read that it only vaguely tastes like bacon. I'm on to you, Bertie Bott. You're just applying the bacon label to lull us into a false sense of security. I know your plans, Bertie, and YOU WILL NOT SUCCEED.

So it turns out Jelly Belly is behind this Pandora's Bag, and unless you've recently come out of a decades-long coma or are a small flightless beetle, you know Jelly Belly is the world's largest shipper of jelly beans probably. I did not do my research.

http://coolcanucks.ca/wp-content/uploads/2010/04/jelly.belly.gif
"The original gourmet 'fuck you!'"

Jelly Belly has fifty-three original flavors and a truckload of others, including the Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Abominations. But I'm not going to babble about the inconspicuous stuff, like 'Very Cherry' or 'Tutti-Frutti'. See, Jelly Belly has long since run out of actual flavors, so they've turned to the dark side.
Everybody knows what I'm talking about. There are two flavors that were so terrible they were inducted into Bertie Bott's. These were around before Bertie. These are ancient, primordial terrors that haunt the waking world of men.
Buttered popcorn and toasted marshmallow.

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I gagged just looking at them.

These flavors are a hearty 'fuck you' to all that is good and decent. If that dude from The Matrix appeared and had one in each hand and did the whole red pill-blue pill thing with me, I'd make him eat them both because he deserves it.

They pretty much taste the same, only buttered popcorn is sweeter and toasted marshmallow tastes a little more like hemorrhoids. Eating one is an experience that you will never forget because the taste will be forever burned into your taste buds, mocking you. These fuckers are the reason why butter is gross and I eat marshmallows plain.

I've pretty much run out of things to say at this point.