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. 

Writing is a process

Sometimes I have ideas that simply don't work.  For instance, I half-wrote a blog post yesterday that had a fairly good beginning but no matter how much I thought about it, the damn thing didn't have an end.  No matter how I tried to come around to a coherent point, it all sounded so preachy.  The post was about drugs and how silly I think it is that they are illegal.  I'm very pro-pot even thought I've never in my life smoked the stuff.  Funny how a cancer-ridden Mother who couldn't eat towards the end will help shape someones opinion on the matter. 

Truth be told, I have always taken a "legalize it" opinion when it comes to drugs.  Hell, if whiskey is legal, doesn't it stand to reason that pot should be?  To my knowledge, pot has never caused a person to leave their bedroom, take a left hand turn towards Terry's bedroom instead of a right hand turn towards the bathroom and then proceed to piss in the corner of Terry's bedroom--and into his lady friend's purse--all the while thinking that it was the toilet. 

That may or may not have happened to me.

It's amazing to me that politicians have not yet legalized pot.  Seeing how they could tax the hell out of it--and lesson the beheadings in Mexico--it seems like a no-brainer to me.  I also take the very controversial stance that all drugs should be legalized.  I'm of the opinion that even if heroin were legal, people wouldn't suddenly decide to inject it just because they can.  People are smarter than that.  The people that aren't that smart?  Well, that's just natural selection at work. 

Where was I?  Ah yes, the writing process.  Below, you will find the blog post that I started and couldn't finish.  You will notice that it sort of abruptly ends.  I swear to god, in my brain, that post had a point. Sometimes, however, it's best to bail out:

"This will come as a shock to some of you but it's the truth:  I've never in my life--for serious--done drugs.  While it is true that I'm sort of fascinated by the culture:  Pink Floyd is a-MA-zing and those stoned kids in college--I really, REALLY hate the term "stoners" because those smokey weasels were some of the more brilliant people I ever encountered back then--sure helped me get play in Tulsa. But it's the truth:  Mike Jacklich can be a fall-down drunk, but he's never smoked weed, snorted cocaine, or dropped acid. 

As a matter of fact, I've only been high once.  This has been discussed before but the truth is, the only time I've ever been truly "high", is that time on the east-coast road-trip with Brad where I drank two Jolt! colas in about 20 minutes. 

Wah-pa!

30 points to anyone that got that Chandler reference.

I was thinking about drugs tonight because I am unemployed, listening to The Beatles and drinking vodka.  Because, you know, what else should an unemployed guy who hasn't showered today do?  Anyhoo, I was listening to "Beatles for Sale".  BFS is an ok album, I guess.  I've always called it their most "coverful" album partly because I don't really like it and also because I am a closeted fan of puns.  The good boys in The Beatles only wrote 8 of the 14 songs on the album"

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I think I was going to make a point that drugs were important to the lads from Liverpool and that by taking drugs, they were able to exist as a band far longer than if they hadn't discovered the ability to self-medicate.  I think. Honestly, I don't know.   That theoretical post, like this one, was

Unemployment: Day 15

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I'm Officially Unemployed!

And unemployable!  Probably!

Yes, sad as it is to say, today is my last day working for Playboy.  Our entire department was laid off so today we have to come in, clean out our desks, sign the "We promise not to sue" paperwork and then head out for a liquid lunch at noon, never to return to 680 N Lake Shore Drive.

How am I?  Dealing, I suppose.  I'm not really sad about losing my job--helping grown men masturbate is nobody's idea of a dream--but I am terrified about losing my insurance.  Cholesterol problems don't just take care of themselves, after all.

So, until I get another job, I'll likely be a bit nervous and unkempt.  Fortunately for my dedicatedly sexy readership of nine, I've constructed a handy-dandy "Mike Jacklich Mental State" test.  This way, when you see me, you can instantly deduce my mood without even asking.   It's rather simple:

If, when you see me, I am wearing my lace-up boots:

I took the time to lace up my big boots!  Clearly, I tried today!  I'm optimistic about the future!  Woot!  I'm going to Taco Bell!

If, however, I'm wearing my slip-on Nikes:

 

Buy me a drink!  I'm sad!  I'll never work again!  My wife can do better and is sure to leave me as soon as she comes to her senses! I guess I'll go to Taco Bell.

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Honestly, I'm going to look back at this day--sometime far in the future--as a great day.  I really was treading water here at the Rabbit and delaying my inevitable trip to super-adulthood.  Now I can finally get on with my life.  Plus, I kind of hated this job.  I'll miss my friend Lisa and, um, the tits but that's about it.  I won't miss the fat bitch from my office that actually had the gall to say "Looks like Mike has a case of the Mondays!" in an obnoxious voice the day after my Godfather died.  And I won't miss the impotent dicks who called in every day demanding to know why their internet isn't functioning or why their penises didn't work (Yes, this happened to me once). 

So, in a fitting metaphor for my last day at Playboy, as I type this the maintenence guys are taking down the copper rabbit head in the lobby, in anticipation for the company's eventual move to L.A.

Good-bye, bunny.  Good-bye scantily-clad ladies.  Good-bye insurance.



Oh, dear god.  I just realized something horrible:  I'm going to have to pay for my porn in the future.  

Why!?  Why, god, why!?!?

Today in Sexy Internet Joy

For those complaining about the first cat video posted yesterday...

Yes, it was fake.  No, a cat did not actually get beheaded by an evil Ford SportKa.  Yes, it's okay to laugh.

Apparently, the Ford Ka was an extremely popular car in Europe, the best selling car in it's class in the United Kingdom.  After the first generation, Ford produced two other versions of the car:  the StreetKa and the SportKa which were sleeker, more "sporty" versions of the car.  To launch the new vehicles, Ford launched it's irreverent "Evil Twin" campaign that stressed the coolness of the new cars.  The video posted yesterday showed a sporty Ka that seemed offended when the cat peered into it's sunroof.  Below, you will find a SportKa merely protecting itself from a pigeon eying it's freshly washed hood:

That's self-defense, yo.

OH MY GOD THAT HAMSTER IS FREAKING ME OUT

There is one thing and one thing only that you need to know about me:  I think it's fantastic when cats lose their dignity.  The cat is such a regal, dignified animal, revered in Egypt and worshiped in Google searches.  There is a reason that the lion is the king of the jungle despite, you know, no lions in the world actually living in a jungle.  The internet is flooded with cute cat photos and videos but my particular interest is in cats falling off things, cats ending up in a precarious situations, cats being baffled by laser pointers, etc.  That shit just kills me. 

And yes, sometimes that comedy can turn a little dark:

For best results, maximize the video

On a far lighter note, the Emerald Nuts "Keyboard Cat" commercial?  Just wonderful:

Not convinced?  Cats losing their dignity is what made Toonces the Driving cat so hilarious back before the YouTube was a twinkle in Al Gore's crotch:

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Now, right now you may be saying, "Mike, I LOVE cats too!  But probably not in the same way you do.  Tell me: how crazy is too crazy when it comes to loving my cats?"

I'm glad you asked.  There is nothing wrong with having several cats in your apartment, even if you're a single lady or--god forbid--a dude.  However, when you start dressing up your pets, that's when it's time to reassess your life goals.  Sure, dressing up your cat can seem like a good way to spend your time...

Case in point

...but cats are dignified animals.  Why would you want to piss off your cat purely for my enjoyment?  The internet is filled with images of people who spent time--time they could have been spending with their kids, volunteering at shelters, stumping for gay marriage, etc--dressing up their cats, even if the cats are clearly terrified:

or downright pissed:

or just have just plain given up over what their owners have done to them:

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You really, really have to figure that cats don't enjoy being manipulated to fill a void in their owners lives.  Sometimes, however, you find a cat being manipulated in the name of Jesus Christ and if you're anything like me, it will both creep you out and make you squeal in delight.   The following was shot before quality sound, special effects, decent music, a respectable singing voice, the American Humane Association, a captivated audience or an even average looking person was required to make a video.  Someone magical dug it up and placed it on one of my favorite websites, Christian Nightmares.  As stated in the title, that hamster is freaking me out.  Seriously, this video will haunt your dreams:

Sleep well!