Sunday, November 25, 2012

Thanksgiving and the Grubbsters

Thanksgiving no longer.
Seize the Absurd had re-dubbed this holiday Thanksgrubbing.

This holiday even comes with a new holiday character.
 Easter has a bunny, and Christmas has Santa, Thanksgrubbing has the grubbster.

 Which is the odd white object you see there around which various foods are exploding. It's eyes starred with joy. The grubbster is a fat white blob without legs, and he embodies the spirit of gluttony.
No really food is awesome.
The first sightings of them were in my notebook: (here are some dubious quality photographs of these hideous and inefficient life forms)

  Remember that Thanksgrubbing is about avoiding the mean.
 Aristotle says moderation is choosing the mean with respect to bodily pleasures.
The grubbster never chooses the mean.

Thanksgrubbing is one of the most food-glorious days of the year.
The other food-glorious day being "chefs table" which requires some explaining. The cafeteria at my college is run by Bon Appetit, once a year chefs from other schools all come to my school and dump food on us by the truck load.
This year there were Korean tacos.
What is that? I still don't know... some sort of mouthwatering trade-your-baby-for-them goodness.
Anyway I ate about a thousand of them, and gave my last will and testament which was:

ME:  I ate so much that I am going to die, and at my funeral my parents will say, "at least she went out the way she wanted to".

But back to the miracles of Thanksgrubbing: specifically that canned cranberry sauce is better, just better.
Better than cranberry sauce with anything that looks like cranberries in it.

Which reminds me to announce that I have invented a new Thanksgrubbing tradition.
Wishbones are not fun.

Instead people should see who can get the canned cranberry sauce out first, as shown:

Also pretty soon, people will forget that thanksgiving ever existed. Instead it will be, "when we stuff ourselves the day before so that we don't have to stop anywhere to eat during Black Friday".

Sunday, November 18, 2012

Killer Candy Land

Those who are light of heart and not dark of humor, this may not be the tale for you.
Remember this game?

So do I. So do my parents because apparently when I was two I wanted to play it every night (and read the story). This is not something I confess with any pride, how I could like such a boring game I cannot fathom. Early indications of lack of creativity I guess. My dad was also not a big fan of Candy Land, so he put all the doubles on the top of the deck to make the game go faster. I apparently never noticed this and was just astounded at the good luck we had (again not one of my most shining moments).
But anyway, here is a Candy Land story with a morbid twist.

"Welcome to the Game, if you win, you live"

        Once Upon a time, a little girl and boy sat at the dinner table sneering at their plates. They were named uninteresting names, Jack and Jill. This mundane fate was brought about as a result of their mother. A boring sort of woman who enjoyed tabloids, exclusively vegetable diets, and the color beige. Tonight was their least favorite dish, vegetarian casserole. In a very stereotypical fashion their mother had told them, “you have to sit there until you finish it” and then gone in the other room to watch TV.
JACK: “I am starving”
JILL: “me too”
JACK: “I know! While mom is gone we can use the magic candy cane to transport ourselves to Candy land where we will stuff ourselves with sugary goodness.”
          The last time they had been in Candy Land they ate themselves silly: drinking out of the chocolate fudge bog, munching on the candy cane forest, chewing a pass through some gumdrop mountains and generally acquiring diabetes. Their travels through Candy Land were their fondest memories, Halloween being a second runner up.
           Well, Jack went to his room to get the magic candy cane and when he came back they both held onto it and said some magic words, (which were in Latin, as we know from harry potter).
All of a sudden they were in a brightly colored sugar paradise. They munched on various and sundry objects as they walked down the brightly colored path.
            They tiptoed past Plumpy, keeper of the sugar-plums, because plums are fruit and they didn't like fruit very much (even if it was sugared, unless it was fruit flavored corn syrup).
           When they came to the Candy Cane Forest they stopped to walk around a bit. In a clearing up ahead they saw a Candy Cane man swing his candy cane ax high in the air. It came down swiftly, but instead of making the pleasant crack of candy cane lumber, it made an odd squelchy thudding noise. As they neared the clearing they discovered why. The candy cane man stood up on a chopping block. He yelled “FORE”, and swung his ax like a golf club, whacking a severed head.

It landed at their feet.
“GASP” said the little girl.
The candy cane man's head swung around looking for the source of the noise, and then headed off into the forest.
JACK: “way to go Jill... I think he's looking for us.”
JILL: “ Sorry. I was freaked out! Did you see that head? It was a kid, just like us. We better get out of here.”
“…...PSSST....PSSSST...Hey” an urgent voice whispered behind them. For a moment they were sure they were doomed, they turned slowly to face their demise. But instead they saw another boy trapped in a prison made of candy canes, “ I overheard what you said, I am guessing it didn't go too well for Billy. Help me out of here would ya?” he said. Jack always carried a pocket knife because he was a strange and violent individual, so they all took turns chipping away at the thick peppermint bars.
          Meanwhile the boy, whose name was Tim, attempted to bring them up to speed. The residents of Candy Land had faced a steady onslaught of hungry children. The children ate the peanut brittle house, and chunks of the kings castle, They gnawed a path through the gumdrop mountains (“well actually that was us” thought Jack), and they had chewed off Mr. Mint's legs which he had to replace from the candy cane forest. The citizens decided that they would get rid of the children in whatever way they could. They soon discovered that children were as tasty to them, as candy was to children. The only person in Candy Land who was not dangerous was a loner named Lord Licorice, he had nothing against children because they hate licorice and therefore left him and his castle alone. Tim had been hoping that Lord Licorice would help them out, he had been searching for the castle when he was captured by Mr. Mint.
        They were almost finished cutting through the candy cane jail bars, when they heard something coming towards them. It was Mr. Mint coming for Tim.
JILL: “quick Jack, do you remember when you stuck that candy cane in my hair last Christmas and mom had to chop it out? Well, there's snow everywhere and its pretty wet...”
They immediately put this plan into action, they pelted Mr. Mint and the near by candy cane trees with snow while narrowly avoiding the swing of his ax. Finally, jack pushed him into some candy cane trees where he stuck. Tim kicked out the bar, and all three of them ran off as fast as possible.

Moral of the story: excessive amounts of health food may force your children to seek candy in dangerous magical/cannibal lands.

Questions for group discussion: How is it that Mr. Mint chops down candy cane trees with a candy cane ax? This appears to be: a) ineffective if not b) impossible.

Maybe there will be further episodes of this, maybe I will regret my morbid tenancies and not write anymore. Maybe this is and aftershock of Halloween or a result of listening to Creedence Clearwater's “Bad Moon Rising” which I am pretty sure is a perfect horror movie song.
Because its upbeat and creepy.
Here it is:

Sunday, November 11, 2012

I hate being told what to do.

I am fairly stubborn and above all I hate being told what to do.
have to is a combination of words that makes me instantaneously erupt into a volcanic ash storm of anger...or general disagreeableness.

You have to follow these rules.

You have to share all my religious and political beliefs.

You have to get out of the rain

(In whether news today gale storm winds were seen to come from Liz's mouth, it is believed that she caught a cold by stubbornly standing out in the rain for several hours.)

You have to get out of the road.

oops....ended by a truck
I love ice cream, but if somebody said that I had to eat it...

And then I would weep and gnash my teeth for refusing to eat ice cream...but I would refuse.
I have found that some other people share my hatred of being told what to do. For the rest of you here is some good advice: it is best to sneakily convince us that we in fact want to do whatever you say, surprisingly this is not actually difficult.
You: "Liz I don't want to use my feet to walk back to the dorm, I am pretty sure you would love to carry me"
Me: "oh my goodness, I would in fact love to carry you around!"

And for all of you out there who are saying, "it is not virtuous to hate being told what to do." I am like a two year old on steroids, whatever.

Sunday, November 4, 2012

Kleptomaniacal Cheese Nibbler

In my college dorm we have a fascinating problem with Cheese stealing.

WANTED!! For heinous criminal activity, the notorious:

this nefarious individual
  1. Takes brand new Trader Joe's Cheeses from the commons refrigerator
  2. Without removing the wrappers takes one big bite of each cheese (probably including one big bite of plastic wrapping...) and then returns them to the refrigerator.
About 6 cheeses have suffered this fate
Some germaphopes have suffered fears that their cheeses may be bitten into by random and unsanitary persons (possessing diseases such as rabies and the like)

And this is what we look like in our outrage

 I think this requires a full scale man hunt, angry mob style

REWARD: if you capture the cheese thief you may have the pleasure of joining us in hoisting them up the flagpole by their underwear.

And making them wear demeaning signs.

I have several questions concerning this bizarre cheese thievery:
a) who does that??
b) who does that?
c) ew.
Yes “ew.” is not a question. Shut up!