McDonald's Monopoly(TM)

So in case you were wondering, all zero of you, if I am one of those fucktards who gets ridiculously excited about McDonald's Monopoly, I'll tell you right now. Yes, I am.

Today I went to McDonald's for lunch because I couldn't think of anything else to eat. While sitting in the drive thru line, I saw the sign for the Monopoly game, and I'm sure if I were looking at myself from outside my car, my beady little eyes would've lit right up.

Fucking October. Every year, every damn year, McDonald's sucks me in with this stupid game. I buy bigger fries and drinks in the hopes that maybe I'll be the one in eleventy million person to get Boardwalk, or that maybe I'll win $50,000, at least, or a new car, or a free sundae (because a free sundae is equal to these other things in value).

I've won the food prizes. I've won the sweepstakes ENTRIES. Have I ever won anything that would make my mother proud? No. No. All I've earned is a fat ass and little piles of tiny monopoly pieces with codes on them.

So today, of course, I bought a medium Coke and a large fries because then I'd get six whole Monopoly pieces. I eagerly pulled them from the boxes when I got back to my office and gleefully entered the codes online after registering. I won sweepstakes entries. Nothing more.

The crowning jewel of my miserable experience is when I lost one of the pieces. I counted them - I should have had six, but I had five. One disappeared. I searched for it and felt overwhelming disappointment that I couldn't find it. I still don't know where it is. I think my laptop sucked it up into its robot parts because it hates me.

I'm all discombobulated. I earned six pieces, and yet I have five. It was on the desk; now it's not.

What the fuck, McDonald's? What have you turned me into?

B

My Birthday, Your Birthday: Adults Need Birthdays

Yesterday, I turned 35.

Many people stop caring about their birthdays after a certain age. They say, "Birthdays are stupid. I'm too old for this crap, and I don't want to be reminded that I'm getting older." They do not buy festive hats; they do not throw parties and they do not eat cake unless other people in their lives force them to do so.

I am not that person. I love my birthday. I like to wear ridiculous hats and have celebrations. I love cake. It all makes sense to the part of me that is a self-indulgent child.

So yesterday, I turned 35. My husband snuck out while I was in the shower and got me kolaches and donuts for breakfast. I went to work and my boss bought lunch and cupcakes, and they sang to me. I came home and did my Insanity workout (dig deep!) and then went to get fried chicken. When I returned, a group of my friends, including my sister-in-law, were at my place to surprise me. And I was surprised! It was a great birthday.

So I bring the discussion back to those who dislike their birthdays and don't like to celebrate them. Look... I'm not you. You don't know me, I don't know you. You can tell me to fuck off. Whatever. But I do NOT understand. Why don't you want this?? What's with you that you don't want people being nice to you and singing you songs and being happy you're alive? Why do you hate fun and cake?

I've heard the explanations, and I counter them:

• I hate being the center of attention. Well, I also hate being the center of attention, and I hate being a burden on other people. I don't like it when all eyes are on me. I like talking to other people and finding out about them and interacting with them. I don't like a one-man show. But five minutes of singing and saying thank you is, to me, worth it. Birthday parties are joy. Birthdays with no recognition are sad after-school specials.

• I don't like being reminded that I'm getting older. You're getting older no matter what you do. That next birthday is coming. Why not do something with it?

• I want to go to the Clown Commando House of Horrors and Pie for my birthday, but my friends think it sounds stupid. You need better friends.

• Birthday parties are for little kids. Fuck you. Go back to shopping at Bed, Bath & Beyond and watching Murder, She Wrote.

I know people who don't like their birthdays and who don't care about them. They're nice, good people who deserve nice, good birthdays - but they don't want them. I know there are more of you out there.

Knock it off. Do something for your birthday. Adults have shitty, boring lives; birthdays add something.

"When it's time to party, we will party hard." --Andrew W.K.

B

Eating my Feelings

Today, I'd like to talk about eating my feelings.

Lots of people eat their feelings. They get depressed or anxious and turn to junk food for comfort. I am one of those people.

I'm very anxious right now. I'm overwhelmed at work (which is why I'm writing in my blog instead of working), the sky is a hazy shade of bullshit Texas springtime grey, and I'm just kind of battling a general feeling of not being able to get anything right.

Food tally today:

• Whole grain peach apricot bar (good!) 
• Banana (okay, it's just sitting on my desk. I haven't eaten it) 
• Giant cinnamon bun (tastes like despair) 
• Peanut butter cookie (tastes like peanut butter... and despair) 

I'm full. but it's lunchtime. Do I eat the whole grain pasta with shrimp and natural sauce that I have for my lunch today, or do I get a double cheeseburger from Jack in the Box? While I know that eating a double cheeseburger from Jack in the Box will only make me feel better for a few minutes (if that), I'm overwhelmed by the desire to go get one. Even though I know it won't make me feel better, I just KNOW it will make me feel better.

Insanity? Perhaps. But as a grown-ass woman, aren't I entitled to sit in my car and eat a double cheeseburger while I cry and bang my head on the dash? This is the torment with which I struggle. So to stick with the spirit of reviewing, I leave you with this:

Eating my feelings = two big thumbs down.

B

The Short Ribs I Made Tonight

Unless you're an incredible dullard, you've probably figured out from the title of this post that I made short ribs tonight. I marinated them in a mixture of olive oil, lime juice, salt and pepper. Then I baked them for 40 minutes and made a honey mustard sauce, seasoned with Hot Cock.

Hot Cock, for those not in the know, is actually called sriracha sauce. You can find it in most Vietnamese restaurants in a big squeeze bottle with a rooster on the front. It's like very, very, very spicy ketchup. Hot Cock.

The ribs were slightly overdone. The sauce was pretty good, though. Doesn't everyone like sauce made with Hot Cock?

All in all, I give myself 2.5 stars. Out of how many, you say? Does it matter?

B

Stuffed Meat... the Burger King Stuffed Steakhouse Burger

I realize I haven't written in a while, and all two of you who read my blog have probably forgotten about me by now, having ridden off into the sunset in a blaze of disappointment. Either that, or you won't get past that very long sentence to get to my review.

However, I will forge ahead and review anyway. Let's talk about stuffed meat, shall we? The item in question is Burger King's brand new Stuffed Steakhouse Burger. I like to make things sound as vulgar as possible, so from this point forward, we (the Royal We) shall refer to this sandwich as Stuffed Meat.

Normally when I want a fast food burger, I head to McDonald's, because there is a McDonald's every five feet and because I love the fries (who doesn't?). However, McDonald's' (McDonald's's?) burgers taste like paste. So sometimes I need an audience with The King.

I bought Stuffed Meat for lunch today on a whim. My husband and I saw a commercial for it recently and agreed that it looked a) delicious, b) sort of disgusting, and c) like something we'd like to eat.

Stuffed Meat is a steakhouse burger patty stuffed (yes, stuffed) with cheddar cheese and jalapenos, topped with lettuce, tomatoes, and some orange-ish sauce called poblano sauce, on a cornmeal-dusted bun. It is the approximate diameter of a frisbee and is very messy. Think "papier mache" meets "Whopper".

The burger was very juicy, and a little spicy. The spice was not intolerable. I am a mutant spice-sensitive weirdo, so my definition of "spicy" is different from those who like spicy food. My husband, for example, could probably eat a jar of ghost chilis and exclaim afterward, "Who wants nachos???" But I, alas, get a runny nose when I eat Hormel chili. That said, the sandwich had a little bit of heat, but not so much that it took away from the taste.

All in all, a very delicious burger. I would recommend it. Burger King continues to outshine McDonald's in the sandwich department. It's a shame, really... what a waste of delicious fries.

That Sure as Hell Doesn't Look Appetizing

FOOD REVIEW - Bolthouse Farms Green Goodness Smoothie

Those of you who know me are probably aware that I don't get a lot of vegetables. Those of you who don't know me are now on notice of that fact.

I like vegetables; don't get me wrong. I love spinach and asparagus and brussels sprouts and all those super dark, bitter vegetables. I love green beans and peas. I like bell peppers and green onions and romaine lettuce. I love tomatoes, which are actually a fruit, but I don't care.

The problem with vegetables is that they're not terribly handy. Unlike fruit, which can come in a variety of forms (smoothies, yogurt, juice pops, etc.) and do not have to be prepared to be eaten, vegetables take a little more effort. They have to be cooked or blanched or made into a salad or chopped. I know there are purists out there who would eat vegetables in their natural state as a snack, but I am not one of those crazies.

The other option was always V-8, which to me is like drinking cold vegetable soup blended with ketchup. The thought of doing this makes me wrinkle my nose in disgust. I want to like V-8, but I can't. So what can I do?

Bolthouse Farms and its smoothie team created the Green Goodness smoothie, which you can find at most grocery stores in a variety of sizes. It's made from lots of fruit, which gives it a sweet taste, but also contains spinach and spirulina, along with various other scientific vegetable-ish things that are good for you. It looks like something the Swamp Thing barfed up, and it tastes a little strange, but it's definitely palatable, and good for you.

Similar products are made by Naked Juice and Odwalla, but Bolthouse Farms is the best of the three, in my opinion.

Bottom line: Tastes like fruit (kind of), very nutritious, easy to carry around, no need to blanch, does not taste like soup mixed with ketchup. Looks like algae, but I've eaten worse things than algae.

Bleepity Bleep Bleep.

INCIDENT REVIEW - Guy In Front of Me On 696 This Morning

Dude, if your car is fucking on fire, don't drive it and blow black smoke at MY car, which is not on fire.

B

Now I'll Never Go to Europe...

MOVIE REVIEW - Taken (2008)
Starring Liam Neeson, Maggie Grace & Famke Janssen
Written by Luc Besson & Robert Mark Kamen
Directed by Pierre Morel



Trivia: this is the second movie in the last week that I've watched that was directed by a dude with a French name.

I would go into a long discussion about the underground sex trade in Europe, and about how thousands of innocent young women go missing, kidnapped and sold into prostitution, but this isn't that kind of blog, and the subject makes me want to punch something. Besides, this movie was less about slave trafficking and more about being a badass and saving your kid.

Liam Neeson stars as Bryan Mills, a government operative (which department is never revealed) who has retired to try to reconnect with his 17-year-old daughter Kim (Grace). There's also his slightly bitchy ex-wife (Janssen) and her rich, nice, and lame current husband, who gives Kim everything she wants and is super old-looking.

Turns out Kim wants to go to Europe to follow U2's European tour. Do 17-year-old girls who wear bedazzled jean jackets like U2 that much? If I'd seen this girl on the street, with her heart-printed hoodies and Keds, I would've suspected she'd be more interested in Jason Mraz. But whatever. Bitchy Mom and Super Old Rich Stepdad have bought her tickets and sweet hotel rooms for this trip. Problem is, she needs her father to sign permission to leave the country, since she's underage. Bryan warns her that it's a bad idea, but after having a guilt trip laid upon him, he agrees to sign the paper.

Of course, all of his fears came true, or there would be no movie.

Day One: She and her idiot friend meet a cute-ish French boy as they exit the airport. They share a cab. He sees where they're staying. Surprise surprise, he's a bad guy! He alerts the Albanian crime ring, who then kidnap the girls.

Unfortunately for the Albanians, Kim is on the phone with her father when the kidnapping occurs; he traces the call, hops a plane, and heads off to rescue her.

Now, a lot of what comes next is incredibly improbable. But Jay-zus, it was cool. Liam Neeson kicked an assload of ass (and believe me, that's a lot of ass). I've always liked him as an actor - he's got this incredible way about him. He can play a tough guy who gets emotional without it seeming unnatural. That was important for this film; we had to believe what kind of man Bryan was. The look on his face when his daughter screamed into the phone was heartbreaking... then he flew to Europe and started beating the shit out of everyone in the chain of command. There's a particularly nice scene involving jumper cables that I found quite entertaining.

The daughter was a little too naive for my taste - she was too sweet and innocent. I hadn't seen much of the world when I was 17, but I was a cynical little bitch, so why is this girl such a Pollyanna? But whatever. She was a nice kid. I wanted him to find her.

As for the PG-13 rating, I don't think it hurt the film. It was violent, but bloodless. No nudity, not much swearing, and yet it still worked. I think that if they'd rated it R they could've upped the ante, but we don't want another Death Wish on our hands - pushing it further may have made it tacky.

I liked it. Go see it.

B

Wank of America

SERVICE REVIEW: Bank of America

I've been dealing with Bank of America both personally and professionally for a number of years, having enjoyed a few of their credit cards/loans and having to deal with their bullshit on a regular basis because my clients have mortgages through them. However, up until August 1, I did not have a checking or savings account at Bank of America, and now I wish that were still true.

I opened a checking and savings there, lured by promises of $75 cash and an awesome ATM that swallows your cash and checks with no envelope and no counting. It counts it for you! What could be better? No adding up, no writing anything on an envelope, no getting pissed off about not having a pen or all the envelopes being gone when you want to make an ATM deposit.

Of course we were wary. And of course, the goddamn thing ate $900.00 cash - meant for my dog's surgery - without a receipt and without posting it to my account. The lady who opened my account for me stood there and watched the whole thing go down with great embarrassment; unfortunately, there was no one on hand who could open the ATM and give me my money back. "File a claim," they said. "They'll give you a temporary deposit until we balance the ATM."

File a claim I did. Receive a deposit I did. Write a check for the dog's surgery I did. Receive a letter in the mail today telling me claim was denied because they couldn't find the cash in the ATM I did.

I lost it. Most people have heard the phrase "blinded by rage" before, and I was the perfect illustration of that. My vision actually narrowed - little lights were popping all around my periphery. I was shaking. I could not speak. I called the branch, but of course, nobody answered the phone. So I called the claims department and impatiently pushed zero until I got to speak to someone.

I fucking UNLOADED on this poor woman. I don't even know what I was saying. I began to coherently (but assertively) tell her what happened, and it devolved into me screaming into the phone that if that $900.00 was not in my account by the end of next week I was going to lose my fucking mind. I think I even added a "Do you understand me" at the end of it. Then I started bawling, of course.

She was actually very nice and very helpful. My boyfriend believes that she was nice and helpful because I went apeshit. But still, she was nice and helpful. She put the claim back into active, elevated status and said the claims department would contact the woman at the branch who witnessed the demise of my deposit.

It took me 25 minutes after the phone call before I stopped feeling all wild. I ate a hot dog, did some laundry. Did some dishes. Plotted my revenge.

I've gotten angry with Bank of America in the past for various reasons with my line of credit. I've also gotten angry with them at work for their monkey business with my clients. But today was the denouement of many years of frustration towards epic-sized financial institutions.

TCF Bank would never have done this to me. They'd have opened the fucking ATM and given me my cash back that afternoon.

Funny thing is, the same thing happened at the SAME branch at the SAME ATM to a friend of ours, not two days after it happened to me. Coincidence?

Bottom line: Polite customer service? Yes. Bullshit policies regarding ATM fuckups? YES. Bureaucratic nonsense getting in the way of my enjoyable banking experience? YES. Going to be shutting down all contact with Bank of America as soon as my loan is paid off and the dog surgery business is over? FUCK YES.

The Answer is Always Fire.

PRODUCT REVIEW - Allergy Buster Capsaicin Nasal Spray
Manufactured and developed by SiCap, a subsidiary of Dynova Laboratories

Let me start by saying that I have a terrible dust mite allergy. It developed several years ago while I was in law school and living in my parents' basement. Don't ever live in a basement that is too... basementy. You will develop respiratory issues. You may become shorter and more surly.

My allergy manifests itself in severe congestion. I don't get itchy eyes; I don't get the sniffles; I get get my nostrils blocked by gigantic chunks of hard, angry mucus. Of course, this is uncomfortable. Not to mention the fact that nothing grosses me out more than snot. I swear to you. I have seen a million gory photos and movies in the years, and while overexposure tends to make me a bit queasy, snot is the worst. I have seen Dead Alive, Peter Jackson's directorial debut and "The Goriest Fright Film of All Time", and all the blood and lawnmower mutilations and leaky monkey bite wounds did not get to me, but there's a scene where some pus glops into porridge and gets eaten, and I want to die when I see it. I'm gagging right now.

So I've tried many things to help me out with this problem - saline sprays, nasal steroids, pseudoephedrine allergy medication, hot water on washcloths. I have a friend who is an acupuncturist and she poked my face all up. It worked for a day, but not longer. Apparently it requires repeated treatments... maybe someday.

For now, I continue to take pseudoephedrine, despite the fact that it can be used to make meth. Only a certain formulation works, which starts with a Z and ends with yrtec-D. But it makes me drowsy. Nasal steroids work, but they're expensive. What to do?

I saw Allergy Buster at Rite Aid recently when there was no CVS in sight. I decided to try it, despite the fact that it contains capsaicin, which is the substance in hot peppers that makes them burn your tongue. Naturally I figured this would be a fine thing to spray up my nose.

The instructions are easy - 1 to 3 sprays in each nostril and snork it up. The package goes on to state that "you may experience a powerful sensation which lasts a few seconds."

Jesus H. Christ(Pardon my Aramaic). The "powerful sensation" is a horrid burning pain that shoots behind your eyeballs and makes you cough and wheeze. It's true that it only lasts a few seconds, but calling it a "powerful sensation" is like calling Hitler misguided. Shit in your hat and wear it backwards, SiCap - your description is "misleading".

You may be thinking, "What did she expect, spraying pepper juice up her nose? What kind of person does this?" A desperate person. Poor breathing does things to you. It makes it difficult to sleep. It makes it hard to eat with your mouth closed. It makes you shoot pepper spray up your nose.

Truthfully, I did expect a painful experience and not a powerful sensation. And truthfully, it works - at least for a little while. For the same reason your nose runs when you eat chili, the stuff clears out your sinuses. It also contains nettle, which is supposed to deal with the allergy issue, but I found that it didn't really prevent me from getting any stuffier. I've used it once a day for about a week, and its long term effect is nil for me.

For a quick decongestant, though, it really does work, and it contains no oxymetazoline hydrochloride, so no "rebound congestion". If you can get through the burning and have no expectations of a long-term cure, it's not a bad thing to have around the house.

Bottom line: Stinging and burning? Yes. Lying on the package about the stinging and burning? Yes. Works as a decongestant? Yes. Causes rebound congestion? No. Long term effects? Probably not.

B

I Want to Sleep Next To Daddy.

MOVIE REVIEW - Orphan (2009)
Starring Vera Farmiga, Peter Sarsgaard, and Isabelle Fuhrman
Written by David Johnson & Alex Mace
Directed by Jaume Collet-Serra




I saw this movie on Monday night with my friend J, who is my horror movie cohort. We have a horror movie routine that runs something like this:

Horror Movie X comes out
Horror Movie X is in theaters for several weeks, causing the fervor to die down
J and I go to the theatre by J's apartment, which serves alcohol and has plush seats
J and I buy a large drink called a Snake Venom, which is a theme drink made for the film Snakes on a Plane, which I have not seen, and which is made from Midori, Blue Caracao, copious rum, sour mix, Sprite, and OJ and comes in a sippy cup
Food is purchased
Seats are taken in the direct center of the theater

Monday was no different. I got my hot pretzel and side of cheese in a carrying box. J got a hot pretzel and a side of cheese with no carrying box. I told her she could put her cheese in my box. Laughter ensued.

So the movie...

This is a timeless tale of a couple, Kate & John Coleman (Farmiga & Sarsgaard) who already have two children of their own (Maxine, a deaf grade-schooler; and Daniel, a pre-teen boy with Jo-Bro hair). A third child died in utero, and to fill the void, they decide to adopt another child.

They end up with Esther (Fuhrman), who is allegedly from Russia, and whose previous adopted family, the Sullivans, allegedly died in an allegedly mysterious housefire. We all know going in, of course, that there's probably nothing mysterious about that housefire, and that the Colemans are likely to go the way of the Sullivans.

Of course, Dad Coleman doesn't see any of it coming, and Mom Coleman, who is a recovering alcoholic, is kind of on her own. She does a little digging and discovers Esther is something other than she seems to be.

I actually quite enjoyed this movie. I've seen its predecessors (The Good Son, The Bad Seed) and there's nothing surprising here, nothing that hasn't been seen, other than some paintings with hidden blacklight delights and a mildly disturbing scene where Dad wakes up and smells the Lolita-flavored coffee.

I won't say more without giving away too much, but if you like horror films, you'll find this a pleasant sit. The children are actually quite good and not the least bit annoying, which is always a plus. In fact, the deaf kid was probably the best actor in the movie, and she says not a peep. The dad is an idiot, but not unlikeable, and the mom was decent. Esther steals the thing, though - how she managed to be sinister using sign language still boggles the mind. With her prissy Victorian curls, silly little tea party dresses and ancient Bible, she's like Children of the Corn done Northern Style.

Bottom line: Plot holes? Yes. Decent acting? Yes. Excellent villain? Yes. Deaf children? Yes. Stupid dads? Yes. Stupid nuns? Yes. Go see it. Drink heavily.

B

Maiden Voyage

Hello.... welcome. I've started this blog so that I may force my opinion upon those who come across it. I'm not sure where it will go, but I'm starting it anyway, out of ennui and ego.

My plan is to review one thing every day. It could be a movie, or a book, or a song, or a trend, or food, or some random thing I buy at CVS. If you happen across my blog, enjoy my nattering, and want something reviewed, feel free to email me at normaldumbass@yahoo.com and if I want to check out said item, I will do so and review it (with credit to the suggestor).

That being said, I'm only going to review things I want to review. I'm not going to go watch some stupid movie I have no interest in for the purpose of reviewing it, for example. Let's delve deeper. I am not going to watch The Ugly Truth starring Katherine Heigl and Gerard Butler. I would die if I saw that movie. I would pull a Bon Scott if I saw that movie. Dead, drowned in my own puke.

Enjoy.

B