They've finally created a pizza that shocks and terrifies even my gluttony...

I think we can all agree that I have poor eating habits.  For instance, when my wife leaves town, I often order several pizzas, buy a few Encor! Veal Parmigiana frozen dinners, a couple of bottles of Jim Beam and try not to leave the house or shower for the extent of her trip.  Even with her in town, I've been known to eat like shit.  For instance, in the last few months alone, I have consumed: 

• 3 Doritos Locos Tacos in one sitting
• approximately 20 pizzas
• one box of macaroni and cheese with diced up, deep friend shrimp
• one box of Sharp Cheddar Kraft Delux macaroni and cheese with diced up meatballs
• one pan pizza from Pizza Hut with pepperoni and an item listed just as "pork"
• one "Bourbon and Orange Juice"
• 5 home made Frito Burritos
• 3 "Frito Chili Cheese Wraps" from Sonic

I'm sure I'm forgetting some stuff--thank you Jim Beam!--but I believe I've made my point.  Remember this post when I've finally succumbed to my fourth heart attack. At age 37.

Every once in a while, however, my acclaimed ability to combine meats and pastas/pizzas/tacos will encounter an item that I won't touch.  The rumored "Cool Ranch Doritos Locos Taco" comes to mind.  But I won't eat that because I think that Cool Ranch Doritos are a "food" sent straight from the depths of Hell, perhaps conjured in Hell's kitchen by celebrity chefs Joseph Goebbels and Anne Frank (too soon?).  No, the item I've discovered combines foods I traditionally love in a way that makes my cholesterol levels quiver in abject fear.

If you find yourself in London tomorrow while feeling a hankerin' for some greasy American pizza, feel free to hop online and order a pie from Pizza Hut's English delivery menu. From that menu, not only will you be able to order a meat lover's pizza that puts America's to shame ("Pepperoni, ham, steak, spicy minced beef, spicy pork sausage, chicken") but you will also be able to order this monstrosity:

 

I'm sorry, England...what have you done?  A hot dog stuffed crust?  With a free mustard drizzle?  I'm actually dumbfounded and a little disappointed in say, Wisconsin, for not coming up with this first.  And why use hot dogs?  Wouldn't one of those curved sausages--bratwurst pizza!--have fit much better around the ring?  I guess I shouldn't give Pizza Hut any ideas.

Because while I may be appalled...sigh...when push comes to shove, I know I'd probably end up ordering one. 

Jim Beam is a sunovabitch.  

At long last: The Doritos Locos Taco

This will not come as a shock to you, loyal reader, but this Taco Bell item made our dedicated group a little crazy.  Kalena and I texted back and forth on a daily basis--often two or three times a day--on the week leading up to our taco date and I sent a text to Mel in France bemoaning that she couldn't be with us.  She replied with "I'm not kidding when I say that missing this taco makes me as sad as missing the birth of my friend's child."  I'm not even a big Doritos fan but the sheer novelty of the thing gave me a Taco Bell Fire sauce boner (note:  do not attempt to use Taco Bell Fire sauce as a lube.  Trust me on this).

Honestly, I can't believe it took us a full week after the taco premeired in Chicago to make our way to Wrigleyville to sample the damn thing.  I'm truly, truly sorry about the delay, Taco Bell.

Speaking of delays, I'm also sorry it took me as long as it did to pound out this post.  My kick-ass wife was the official photographer of the trip and took all the pictures on her iPhone.  However, a few days ago, she and I made the switch to the iPhone 4S and she had some trouble moving the photos from one phone to the next.  The good news is that if you own an iPhone 4S as well, we can call each other and use the "Face Time" video chat.  Because we all know, when you want to talk to me, you want to be able to see me shirtless, pantsless and unshowered.

Anyhow, Kalena, Marc (her Marc, not my Marc), Brad, Krishni and I made our way to Addison and Clark last Monday for cheesey glory.  We all ordered different variations of the thing: Brad got the "Dinner Box", I got mine without sour cream, Marc bought 4 of the damn things, etc and we sat down at an abnormally busy Bell to sample the glorious fare.  Now, I may be saying this as a Taco Bell geek so you may want to take this with a shit-ton of sodium but it was awesome.  Like, fantastically super-charged "I want seven right now" awesome.  Some photos (we did have a few action shots of me eating the tacos but sadly they were lost when we swapped phones.  However, since you likely didn't need to see me with orange-dust covered fingers and Taco Bell "beef" stuck between my teeth, I'm not sure this is for the best anyway):

Yes, this was my favorite new Taco Bell item in many moons.  While we ate the hell out of it, we discussed what the future of Taco Bell might hold for us.  They might as well double-down on theme and get a Frito shell ASAP.  Kalena wants them to do other Doritos flavors, specifically the old-school "Taco Flavored" chips...remember those?

I feel that would be a bit redundant but why not do a shell in the "Spicy Nacho" genre? 

As long as they stay away from the whole "Cool Ranch" thing, I'll be a happy guy.  Because that is one Taco Bell item that I will NOT be sampling.  Ever.

********

I feel that in a day and age where a company like Whole Foods can exist and thrive--an age where freshness is important to consumers and ingredients matter--it has become "cool" to rip down Taco Bell because Taco Bell does not care about such things.  The Bell wants to use a "mostly beef" mixture and churn out as many tacos as possible to it's drunken fan base. 

You know what?  I'm ok with that.  Taco Bell is what it is and it's not pretending to be any different.  You want to get on your high horse and make fun of the Bell?  You can do so without me because fuck you. 

This taco was not only fun but really, really good.  The only thing I did not like about the experience was the girl behind the counter refused to make me a double-decker Doritos Locos taco.  I was even going to ask her to put on that "Volcano Sauce" that they like to use but figured it would have further confused her. 

In the interest of full disclosure, I feel this should be noted.  This may have resulted because of the Taco Bell experience or the eight Jack n' Cokes I had after at Sluggers but the next day I felt like I was shitting fire.  I'd like to think it was a combination of the liquor and coming down from the natural high of watching the Bulls beat the Knicks but I'm willing to admit it might have been, say, 10% Taco Bell's fault. 

Please don't let that stop you from trying the sheer awesomeness that is the Doritos Locos Taco.  But, you know, consider yourself warned. 

I'm just mere hours away...

...from injecting this mayhem directly into my intestines:

For those that value their bowel movements more than I do, that is the "Doritos Locos Taco" from Taco Bell.  As many of you know, I am involved in an unofficial club of ne'er-do-wells who make a run for the border any time The Bell has a new item.  This item, in particular, has been captured in our dreams and nightmares for well over a year.  You see, my friend Kalena has a cousin that actually shoots Taco Bell commercials.  As such, we tend to hear about the new items long before they actually hit the market.  And ever since we've heard about this one, our curiosity has been, um, salivating. And buying Pepto-Bismol. 

So, in less than three hours, Krishni, Kalena, Brad and I--and a few other intrepid adventurers--will make the long journey on the #22 Clark Bus to the Wrigleyville Taco Bell.  We will smell the fried "beef", consume too many of these damn things and gleefully lick the orange dust off our fingers. 

We'll deal with the repercussions later.

**********

Tomorrow:  Photos!  Reviews!  Hangovers! 

The only recipe you'll never need

Krishni isn't feeling quite like a normal person tonight; she's coming down off a dentist-induced novocain high.  As such, she's turning in early leaving me to make dinner on my own and watch the Bulls game.  Damn it!  For the last few months, she's been feeding me...how are they pronounced?  Vegetables?  Well, left to my own devices, I don't stand for that shit.  Unless, of course, you want to rain on my temporary-bachelorhood parade and claim that salsa is pretty much made up of vegetables. 

Since I'm unemployed and can't afford Taco Bell, I took matters into my own hands tonight.

I actually look 25% worse than my calves may indicate

Here is all that you need to make your very own Frito Burrito:

Wii handguns optional

Start with a flour tortilla.  I'm not a Mexican food snob like my awesome wife so just about any flour tortilla will do.  I picked the softest ones from the "ethnic foods" aisle at Jewel.  While I'm in this aisle with you, why do they sell those weird Jesus candles in this aisle?  They don't sell any Buddhist icons in the Asian section.  What's that about?

What?  Oh, yeah.  Adding a copious amount of beef to the tortilla:

From there, add entirely too much cheese:

On top of the cheese, add some salsa.  I like Newman's Own because I don't require a salsa that is remotely authentic and a freshly-dead Paul Newman in a sombrero slays me:

Ole!

Finally, you add the most important ingredient of all:  the fried, crispy cholesterol:

Wrap it all up...

...and you have yourself a perfectly adequate "Mexican" dinner.  Or, in my case, eat 4 of them and deal with the intestinal issues tomorrow.

Some days, I really, really enjoy unemployment. 

This only makes me want Taco Bell that much more

As if we needed a counter-point to my previous post:

Happy Pearl Harbor Day! I've been laid off!

On Sunday morning, December 7th, 1941, the Japanese Navy launched an air assault on the U.S. naval base at Pearl Harbor, thrusting the United States headlong into a world war since made famous through the tireless efforts of Ben Affleck and Josh Hartnett. 

Veterans will say that the real heroes are the 405,399 Americans that died over the course of the war but we all know it was these dreamy fellows.

"Only" 2,402 Americans died in the attack that day but the damage had been done: for the next four and a half years, the United States would find itself in the lowest of lows before eventually climbing back up and achieving a bittersweet, ass kicking victory.  And it all started 70 years ago today. 

If you know a WWII vet, give him a hug.

In other news, I was given my 60 day notice last week, although--we've been informed--it might not take nearly that long for me to find my fat ass sitting on the couch every day.  We're really "working" day to day at this point.

A few years back, I found myself in an unadvance-able job at Steppenwolf Theatre Company.  I loved that job but they couldn't promote me any higher and I eventually grew frustrated and quit.  Now, lots of people have quit their jobs over the years but I was in the odd position of not having any real prospects when I did so.  I did not have a job lined up nor was I thinking of going back to school.  I just up and quit.

I wasn't at all nervous when I did so.  I gleefully drank my way through 3 awesome months of unemployment and then depressingly drank my way through 3 terrifying months of unemployment before landing my current position electronically jerking-off old dudes.  Being forced into unemployment during the worst recession since, what, the outbreak of World War II while I have a mortgage and a wife who can already do better than me?  Again, terrifying.  

When I left the 'Wolf, I considered just applying for a job at Borders for a while to take advantage of their discount or at Taco Bell for a few weeks since I thought that would be hilarious.  Borders is out now (damn you Amazon!) but I suppose Taco Bell is still on the table.  Although that won't really jive with how much weight I've gained.  What should I do in 2012?  Let's bring it to a vote:

What should Mike do in 2012 before the Mayans destroy the world?

1)  Get a job, deadbeat!
2)  Write a screenplay called "Evil Jesus" that has a tagline of "He'll convert you...straight to HELL!" (and a poster of Jesus, in sunglasses, aiming a .44 at the reader with a caption of "Nail this")
3)  Sit around and make Newt Gingrich jokes
4)  Develop a meth problem
5)  Develop a math skill
6)  Declare for the NBA Draft
7)  Launch my porn-star career under the name "Johnny Thursday"
8)  Gain 60 pounds
9)  Lose 20
10)  Work at Taco Bell.  Is it your destiny

Take the poll in the upper-right hand corner of the blog and let me know what you think.  I've even made it so you can select multiple answers.  Enjoy!

(seriously!  Go hug your WWII veteran!  You don't have much time left...)

Calories and Jazz-Geriatrics

Many moons ago, Taco Bell came out with what I believe was the perfect drunk food:  the legendary Frito Burrito.  It was a simple concoction: chili, cheese, onions and Fritos chips wrapped in a flour tortilla.  It was spectacular.  Tracing it back, my devoted passion for Taco Bell may have come from the Frito Burrito and the Frito Burrito alone.

There was, of course, a dark side to this delicious treat.  CalorieCount.com gives a "C-" grade to the burrito that apparently features 60% of your daily allotment of saturated fat.  And it looks like this:

Raaawwwwwwwrrrr!

Sadly, the Frito Burrito was to be short lived.  It went away my junior year in college along with my dignity, waistline and most of my liver.  Little did I know it was just lying dormant and in disguise at another beloved fast-food calorie trough.

A few years ago, Sonic started serving the "Chili Cheese Wrap" which was the exact same thing, minus the onions.  Since I always picked the onions off anyway, this was a new and improved version of the burrito that was sadly only served at a restaurant that often teased me with commercials, but sadly the nearest location was about 200 miles away.  This might help explain why when Krishni and I arrived in New Orleans, we dined at Sonic three times and I ate three damn Chili Cheese Wraps.  Wooooooooo!  Calories!

But our trip to Louisiana wasn't all stops at fastfood joints.  No, we did lots of other stuff too.  After our first two nights in New Orleans, Krishni and I drove 240 miles to Deridder, LA, to stay with her Father and Step-Mother.

Frighteningly close to dirty, dirty Texas

They have a lovely ranch-style house located across the street from the Beuregard Country Club golf course.  The house is filled with some amazing art and antiques, as well as all sorts of hilarious knick-knacks like that $1,000 Egyptian throne you can buy through SkyMall:

 For the man who quite literally has everything

In the back yard, Jay--her Father--has planted what will eventually be a pretty amazing orchard.  He planted a few different kind of apple trees, a tangelo tree, a tangerine tree, a satellite peach tree...pretty much everything but a Frito Burrito tree.  But my, wouldn't that be fun?  It's a fantastic home made warm by the people within.

From Deridder, we roamed back to New Orleans and Krishni and I spent the night in a haunted hotel...woogetty boogetty!

 

"Your keys for your soul, sir."

Actually, the Dauphine Orleans Hotel is awfully swanky and normal looking:

But it allegedly houses three ghosts.  You see, back in the Civil War, before the fall of New Orleans to the bloody Yankees, the hotel was a Confederate brothel.  As the Hotel's website states:  "Haunted by Civil War soldiers and their well dressed ladies of the evening in the bar, May Bailey's, the hotel was once a bordello. It is said that at night, the spirit of the woman rearranges the bottles in the bar, as the soldier wanders through the courtyard."  Also,  "The beds are said to bounce and shake in the early hours of the morning and late in the afternoon" and people speak of the "sounds of ghostly moans in the rooms".  Brothel.  Moaning ghosts.  Beds shaking.  Get it?

Krishni claims she won the wife of the year contest because not only did she bring me to a hotel populated by ghosts, but she brought me to a hotel populated by "prostitute ghosts".  She still doesn't get it...she had wife of the year wrapped up the second we got married.

_______________________________________________

Our last night in New Orleans was a "hoot".  That's what old people say, right?  "A hoot"?  The terminology is important because of our activity of choice that evening:  The Obituary Crawl.

The final Friday we were in town, we stayed with Ruth Ann, Krishni's cousin who also stood up for Krishni at our wedding.  If you were present at the wedding, you may remember her because you either loved her or hated her.  Seriously, there was no middle ground.  Anyhoo, Ruth Ann--or RAM for short--just moved into a new place in the Quarter.  Her millionaire, eccentric, spinster of a landlord sent RAM an email inviting us to come along with this little club to which she was a member.  The club is called "Obituary Cocktail" and "meetings" are held a secret location each week.  That secret location is a fancy name for a "bar" that is changed from week to week.  The Friday we happened to tag along, the event was to be a pub crawl through the French Quarter.  Sweet!

When we strolled up to--again--Tony Seville's Pirate's Alley Cafe, I have to admit I was not prepared for the clientele of this organization.  Milling around the outside the bar, we found a hilarious group of rambunctious old people drinking absinthe and dressed to the nines with hilariously decorated parasols and feather boas...these septuagenarians were ready to par-tay!  Seriously, check out the members photos from their website:

 

Woooooooooo!

 

Woooooooooooooooo!

 Woooooooooooooooooooooooo!

Whatever.  This group was awesome.  They even hired a jazz band to lead our procession and crank out joyous little New Orleans-styled tunes as we danced our way through the streets from bar to bar.  Check out this super-short but still riotously awesome video with RAM leading the way:

The crawl was a ridiculous amount of fun and it was simply the perfect way to end our trip to the Big Easy.

You know, since I didn't get to a Sonic the next day.

Tupid

I wouldn't call myself a stupid man.  Sure, I like to pretend I'm ignorant of the world swirling around me but the reality is, I know some stuff.  My knowledge is based on books, the interwebs and good old fashion thinking and common sense.  It also helps to have graduated from two accredited scholastic institutions, even if one of them was in Oklahoma.  Finally--and I cannot recommend this enough--I also married the smartest person I know. 

Add all of the above together and you don't get a guy that any reasonable person would refer to as "flighty".  Why do I bring this up, you may ask? 

Well, as many of you know, I am a tremendous fan of Fightin' Irish football. 

Pictured here, fumbling as usual.

Many of you would see this alone as a reason to question my intelligence.  But love 'em I do.  I'm always on the lookout for new folks to add to my ticketing harem...that is to say, new people with connections to Notre Dame tickets.  Until this past year, it had somehow escaped my attention that my good friend Mary Kate had a father who is a season ticket holder.  Touch down Jesus Hopping Christ!  How on earth did I not know this? 

Lucky for me, I was able to get my hands on 4 tickets for the upcoming Michigan State vs. Notre Dame game.  Score!  All I had to do was send her Father a check for $320 for the face value of the tickets.  This is simple transaction that has been done thousands upon thousands of times featuring passage of Irish tickets between interested parties.  How could I mess this up?

Well, her Dad's name is "Michael".  And when I wrote the check, apparently I was on autopilot because in the "Pay to the order of" slot, I successfully wrote "Michael" but for whatever reason continued on with "Jacklich".  I then wrote a humorous thank you note on a post-it, sealed the envelope and mailed it to the correct Michael in Hinsdale, IL.

To recap:  I wrote a check to myself for Notre Dame tickets and sent it to the ticket seller.

Now, Mary Kate's Father isn't the biggest fan of Mike Jacklich to begin with.  One of his daughters once threw up on my shoes on the mean streets of Chicago while she was very underage.  And please understand, this was not by a long shot the worst transgression that involved me and one of his daughters.  I was, after all, partially responsible for Mary Kate's arrest at Goonfest.

This also might have not been the worst transgression involving one of his daughters.

Apparently, he didn't notice the mistake until he had taken time from his day to go to the bank and attempt to deposit the check.  Sigh. 

As my Godmother would say, "Tupid, Tupid, Tupid!"

With the possible exception of her racist, soul-crushing harpy of an older sister, Mary Kate's family is super nice, full of Irish levity and warmth.  I don't want these people to think I'm stupid.  They already look at me with an arched-eyebrow due to my younger transgressions. 

So I did the best I could, under the circumstances, and sent her parents a note along with a new, correctly written check:

Mr. and Mrs. Collins,

Allow me to introduce myself.  My name is Mike Jacklich.  Friend of Mary Kate, proud graduate of Benet Academy, eternally suffering Notre Dame fan and a dumbass. 

I have no earthly idea why I would write a check to myself for the Notre Dame tickets and send it to you.  Confusion?  Excitement?  A gushing head wound?  I’ve got nothing.

Please accept my apologies for the confusion and subsequent hilarity that must have ensued around your dinner table upon your return from the bank.  Perhaps I should have taken my Mother’s advice and continued my higher education at the Taco Bell University of Book Learnin’ from which I received my bachelor’s degree.

Sincerely,

Michael Jacklich

The Only 2011 Travelogue You will Require

People often ask me what it's like to work at the Rabbit.  The question most often asked is can I get the questioner free porn.  The answer is, of course, yes.  All you have to do is ask.  The second question I most often hear:  "Are there, like, naked ladies just running around your office?"  That answer is, "Not most of the time."  While there are occasionally scantily clad women in the office--for photo shoots and seasonal parties--I have to crush the fantasies of dudes everywhere when I tell them that this really is just an office.  My cube looks a whole lot like yours.  Only the top of my monitor is graced by one of my all time favorite Onion headlines:

It is my understanding that this is not allowed in many offices. 

Without further ado, welcome to my desk at work:

They say that a person's work space tells an awful lot about said person...by looking at my work area, you'd think I'm a sophomoric sports fan.  Can you even imagine?

From left to right as we travel across my desk:

Are you in one of these photos?  If so, drink!

No work space is complete without a series of photos of the ones you love.  Or the ones you love to drink with, as this case may be.  We have Mel and Panhandle up there sporting some nice bling after winning the Steppenwolf Gala King and Queen.  We have Brad and Nathan drinking beers at a brewery in stinkin' Boston.  We have Hank sporting a theoretical wooded spoon.  We have the last picture of my Godmother I own where she had any real dignity.  The 'Wolf softball team is present along with an underage drinking party on my Parent's back patio back in 1997.  Speaking of underage drinking...there is my sister Peggy contributing to the delinquency of a minor!  Thanks, Peg!   She's a doctor now!

I think it's important to have icons of your own personal heroes:

In that respect, I have a Geoffrey Rush action figure from the Pirates of the Caribbean, complete with sword, pistol and a juicy green apple.  He had a very nice hat a long time ago.  He (I) sadly lost it in the move from one office to the next. 

Speaking of figurines, I also have these happy little fellows that I purchased for $1 from a Michael's after Halloween two years ago:

I guess my shit job could be worse. 

You will also find a little shrine to Matt Groening:

Present and accounted for are all of my favorite Simpson's characters (Sadly, Milhouse had a full glass of ice water spilled on him.  Sniff, sniff) as well as the cast of Futurama.  Only the best show ever for nerds.

Below my cartoon friends, I have a list of dates that the Free Disney Meal plan is available at Walt Disney World.  Sigh.

I'll get back there someday...

Swinging over to the lower right hand corner of my desk, you will find a rather creepy selection of items:

That doll will murder you in your sleep.   It's why the Stormtrooper stoically stands ever vigilant. That, and he's sitting on top of a naked lady. 

I know what you're thinking and the answer is yes: those are, in fact, wind-up hopping lederhosen standing atop my novelty Benet Academy football.  Sharp eyed folks from Steppenwolf Theatre Company will also be able to spot one of those godawful oranges from that one Gala where we were apparently trying to blind our patrons. 

"But Mike," I hear you asking, "What about your gorgeous, super-smart and sexy wife?"  No worries!  She's here too.  With a pirate:

Arrrrrrrrr!

Bonus terrible fact:  the island where this photo was taken was the site of a horrific plane crash that changed the way pilots communicate to each other in cockpits across the world.  In a heavy fog, one pilot said "To hell with that tower!  I'm taking off!" and promptly flew into a taxing jet killing everyone aboard his plane and most folks aboard the other plane.

Whoopsie.

See!  Bonzer T's Home Skillet isn't just about moderately funny observances...it's also about history!

There are two diplomas I'm proud of earning over the course of my young life.  One is for graduating from Benet Academy, my scholastic home away from home.  The other is from the Taco Fu Master Program.  I graduated with honors:

Yeah, University of Tulsa.  You can go to hell.  

To achieve--according to my diploma--"Success in defending all that is taconess", you need to play this absurd game at the Taco Bell website wherein you must defend your plate of nachos supreme from a series of ginormous lucha libre wrestlers.  Seriously.  Try it out right now and print up your certificate so you can be as awesome as me (incidentally, when you go to the Taco Bell website now, there is a link that states "Made with Real Beef lawsuit dropped".  So we have that going for us.)

Posted all over my monitor, you will find a few Onion horoscopes that still make me laugh to this day.  Allow me to reprint them here because, come on, we all need a good laugh:

"While the directors of the Palomar Observatory admit the nebula had an unusual shape, they do not believe you caught God masturbating."

"When times are tough and the world around you seems grim, don't be afraid to turn to religion for a good, hearty laugh."

"Death by firing squad has a certain desolate nobility, but it will be ruined when the inept, drunken Australians fail to hit you above the waist with the first nine volleys."

"Your love of all living creatures will be on display this week when you open the world's first Animal Rescue Steakhouse."

And a new one that came off the calender today!

"Turns out your nightmarish descent into alcoholism and drug abuse will be a lot more fun than expected."

Finally, I wouldn't be a White Sox fan without some sort of way to taunt Cubs fans in the office:

Yeah, that's my 2005 World Series Champion Rally Sock.  Maybe if I started wearing those, Adam Dunn could get a damn hit. 

So that's that.  I realize that technically none of you asked to see what my desk looked like at work.  But that has never really stopped me before when it came to stupid shit like this.  Plus, I'm going to make an effort to blog a bit more seeing how my life has slowed down a bit after a frantic July. 

And not every post can be a winner. 

Odd and Ends from my Mind Grapes

1)  The poll has been reposted and so far and, with just one vote, I'm winning.  I'm glad I voted with me.

2)  I wore my 'God is Awesome' t-shirt to work today.  I get some pretty funny looks when I'm out and about in Chicago wearing this shirt; people can never quite get a bead on what I'm thinking.  It's no different at the Rabbit.  While most folks get it, some people really don't know how to talk to me.  He works at a place where there are naked ladies.  But he's wearing that shirt!  I don't know what to say to him.  Crap!  He's coming over here!  Um, ummmmm..."You know what else is awesome?  Tits." 

3)  That said, I really need to stop wearing this shirt out in the suburbs.  Last time I wore it out there, I got stopped twice at Home Depot, the last guy grabbing my shoulder and saying "I'm happy a young fella like yourself is so proud to wear that shirt and believes in the lord Jesus Christ!"  Uh, hallelujah? 

4)  I got some pretty amazing news yesterday.  My sister and brother-in-law--Diana and Rick--recently moved their family from Evanston, IL to Denver, CO.  While this did technically rip our new godson away from Krishni and me:

Pictured:  Luca the Destroyer

This did bring some fantastic information to light.  Has anyone ever seen that episode of South Park called "Casa Bonita"?:

Apparently, it's a real damn place:

Words cannot express how excited I am about this development.  They really do have cliff divers (sullen cliff divers, as my brother-in-law explains), strolling mariachi players, fire jugglers, Black Bart's Cave and "world famous" sopaipillas.  With honey. 

I immediately texted Rick about his blog post and demanded--in no uncertain terms--that he take us to Casa Bonita when we arrive for a visit in Denver. Like, "take-us-there-the-second-our-wheels-touch-down-at-the-airport" take us there. 

5)  Speaking of "Mexican" food, Kalena and I hit Taco Bell for the new item yesterday:  The Beefy Melt Burrito:

It was pretty good, especially for 99 cents.  But it really was the Beefy Crunch Burrito from a few weeks ago, minus the Fritos.  And the Fritos were the best part.  We do believe, however, that this will tide us over until the gleefully anticipated arrival of the Doritos Locos Taco. 

6)  Finally, a public service announcement:  For any of my peers that is a new parent or is thinking about becoming a new parent (Don't!  There's still time to do all that stuff you wanted to do!  Start a band!  Write a book!  Live you life!), Rick's blog is a must read.  You can find it at http://hamanneggs.blogspot.com/.  It's fabulously entertaining and contains some pretty fantastic information with which we can later blackmail my nephews.  Plus, the kids are super cute:

Fat

I wouldn't say I'm on a diet.  That would require effort.  No, what I'm on is sort of a gradual (ok, minimal) change in lifestyle that has happened to result in me dropping a few pounds.  My wife sneaks vegetables into my dinners, I'm eating less crap and the only thing I typically eat before dinner is a couple of bowls of cereal at work.  It has actually been quite painless.

However...

I went a bit off the rails this week.  Anyone who knows anything about me knows I dig novelty.  Pretty much whenever a fast food restaurant comes out with a new item, I really, really need to eat it.  I'm stupid like that.  As a matter of fact, I have a standing date with my friend Kalena to go and get the new Taco Bell item whenever it comes out.  We haven't yet named our awesome club but over the years we've picked up a few intrepid members:  Krishni, Mel, Brad, Marc...that's Kalena's Marc, not my buddy Marc.  Although he did join us once which resulted in a pretty wicked case of food poisoning after the XXL Double Beef Chalupa experience; but we all ate the same thing and none of us got sick.  Funny, that.  I think he just didn't want join us anymore.  I really don't blame him; the Chalupa itself was pretty gross.  I mean, look at this thing!  Gross, right?:

Where was I?  Ah, yes, fast food novelty.  Last night we all convened at the Wrigleyville Taco Bell (motto: "20% more expensive than any other Taco Bell") for the new item:  The Cheesy Double Decker Taco.

First of all, a review:  It was goooooood.  You see, what makes this different from a standard Double Decker Taco is instead of a layer of beans fusing the soft shell to the hard shell, there is now an added layer of nacho cheese oozing out the sides.  That's the only difference.  I mean, what do you want?  There's only so many ways you can combine the same 8 ingredients.  Until they introduce chorizo--Please Taco Bell!  Bring us chorizo!--we're working with a limited color pallet. 

Now onto the problem:  Sure, I could have had just one of these things.  But instead, I had two.  And a shrimp taco.  As the ad says up top, "Get twice the taco".  Does that mean I had a taco to the 5th power?  I dunno but it felt good.  For a while.

So a scant 5 days after the White Sox/Bulls bender, I had a little Taco Bell extravaganza.  Big deal, right?  Well, that would be the case if only I hadn't eaten one of these over the previous 36 hours:

Yes; for those of you concerned about my heart, that is sausage, pepperoni and bacon stuffed and baked with a shitload of cheese into the crust of this Pizza Hut monstrosity.  Let's ignore for a moment that is was pretty good.  This pizza is the definition of American excess.  This pizza is one of the main reasons folks in the Middle East hate us.  This pizza is the reason my lungs almost exploded when I had to run 2 blocks at a full sprint to catch my bus this morning. 

I think it's best that I lay off the crap for a while.  My body deserves it.

Pacific Scrimps

Last May, after our ridiculously fantastic wedding, my wife and I went on a Caribbean cruise for our honeymoon.  For 10 days we ate, drank and soaked up the sun.  It was glorious. 

Holland America Line, for those who haven't cruised, caters to an older crowd.  We're talkin' like "blue haired ladies" older.  However, the Godparents had cruised on HAL since the 50's and, as a result, I've built up a little bit of standing with the company.  Kids, you're looking at a HAL Bronze Medallion holder.  Bam!  Anyhow, I have my own personal "Cruise Coordinator", I get nice discounts on future trips and invitations to champagne toasts with the captain and such. 

My cruise coordinator, knowing that I didn't have a foot in the grave, set up my new wife and I at a dinner table with two other younger couples.  One was a pair of Denver cops a few years older than us who loved to drink and had some truly fantastic law enforcement stories.  The other couple was another set of newlyweds from Lawrence, Kansas whose names, jobs and faces escape me at the moment.  Seriously; I ate dinner with these people for 9 straight nights and I don't remember a thing about them.  Guess which couple we enjoyed more? 

The couple from Kansas was actually so forgettable that I couldn't remember their names while we were still on the cruise.  I took to calling them--both to Krishni and the super cops--"Jasmine and Steve" because those were names I could remember.

Anyhow, Jasmine and Steve were, shall I say, "large" in nature.  They, like me, loved to eat.  As a matter of fact, Jasmine was a "food blogger".  Each night, she would awkwardly take photos of her food with the arrival of each new course, provided she remembered to do so.  She lost more than one shot on the cruise because she started tearing into her meal before she remembered to take a photo of it.  I laughed internally because "The fat girl forgot to take a picture before she ate her plate!  Har!"

And I'm a dick.

Why do I bring up a boring story from 10 months ago?  Because last night I had the pleasure of experiencing the new Pacific Shrimp Burrito from Taco Bell.  And I forgot to take a picture before I ate the hell out of that thing.  So this will have to do:

I have news for you:  it was good.  Damn good.  So good, everyone thought, it should not have been from Taco Bell.  A few reviews:

Marc:  "It was light years beyond what I expected."
Krishni:  "I liked the taco better than the burrito." 
Kalena:  "I can't believe that the shrimp are so shrimpy."
Mel:  "It's like they used real shrimp."

Ok, ringing endorsements they are not.  All of the above just suggest shock and awe over the quality of the Taco Bell experience.  What cannot be argued is that this group of seasoned Taco Bell veterans really enjoyed their meal.

The shrimp were juicy and tangy, the crispy strips were, um, crispy and the burrito accoutrement worked just as those rich guys from the commercial said it would.  Seriously, I cannot recommend it enough. 

I have to believe that even Jasmine would approve.