Wednesday, April 30, 2008

The Hooplah: Breakfast Thoughts II - The Brunchening

Bad coffee in a good mug tastes bad. However, the same dark brew ensconced in Styrofoam is passable to decent. Is it the gradual melting of the Styrofoam under the intense heat, a melting that takes so long it really doesn't happen, that improves the palatability? The mug I am using today is quite nice, with a slight tapering in the middle and a sturdy heft. I don't think it's breaking apart inside and tainting the coffee. But an identical cup, poured at the same time into Styrofoam, tastes better. It's almost like diet vs. regular Coca-Cola. What an oddity. Yet I refuse to switch back to Styrofoam. God, aren't I eco-friendly! Maybe it's the heat-conductive properties of the two materials, ceramic vs. Styrofoam, that impact the flavor. This calls for an experiment. As the great man once said, "Stand back! I'm going to try science!"

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I posted not long ago that some women smell. Well some men smell too. Like women. It is very disconcerting to note in a hallway or elevator a strong floral aroma, like a funeral parlor or retirement home, only to realize the space is shared by another man. What is he thinking? Do the women in the world desire men to who smell like their great-aunts? This barbarity must be stopped. Conversely, a rotund basement-dweller filled my train car with the chewy aroma of B.O. this morning. Does no one remember the shower and simple three-swipe deodorizing that follows?! Are we all French that we forget good hygiene*?

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How is David Archuletta not being torn apart by the judges on American Idol? (Yes, I watch it. Wanna make something of it?!) The boy signs like he's in a high school summer camp variety show and yes, there is talent there. But to win American Idol and against the folks he's up against? He cannot hold a candle to some who have gone before him (Michael Johns, Carly Smithson) or those still there (David Cook, Syesha Mercado [supermarket?]). His butchering of two Neil Diamond songs did nothing to break the thralldom in which the judges find themselves whenever he opens his mouth. Do you want as your next pop sensation a boy who looks like he's halfway between crying and peeing his pants whenever given words of encouragement? Vote Cook or die trying.

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In honor of Buck's bacon-infused post, I too must make a confession. Yesterday, I had a chicken salad sandwich. I know I need to stay healthy (the di-uh-beetus and all...), and my initial thought was to have it on multi-grain bread with lettuce and tomato. The latter two remained, but the bread was swapped out for a croissant. Not content to stop there, I added a thicker-than-normal slice of pepperjack cheese and then the pies-de-resistance! Bacon. That sandwich sung. Add some Diet Pepsi (look, Mom - no sugar!) and nacho cheese Doritos (...sigh. There's nothing healthy there. Powdered cheese? It probably causes AIDS) and you've got yourself a meal.


*Just kidding. The French are a clean and industrious people with a rich cultural heritage.

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