Random Esquire

As you may know, I am sometimes mildly critical of television ads or PR work for some products.  Products that have *cough* come under scrutiny include:  Smuckers, Jif, Folgers (many times because they suck so hard I can’t take it) and today, my attention is turned to…

Cafe Steamers.

So, a Cafe Steamer is, according to Healthy Choice, a frozen food that steams in your microwave and tastes totally awesome.

Now, let me tell you what a Cafe Steamer really is:

• A Cafe Steamer is what a teenager hopes he or she doesn’t find on the toilet seat when they have bathroom detail at their first job.

Or..

• A Cafe Steamer is something that happens in the back room of a cafe involving a man and a woman, an unzipped pair of pants and preferably some kneepads.

Or…

• A Cafe Steamer is when someone poops on you during lunch… while you’re in Cleveland for business.

• …unless, of course, they poop on your face while you’re in Boston for business.

Or…

• A Cafe Steamer is something that happens in the backroom of a cafe in Ireland involving two men, an unzipped pair of pants, preferably some kneepads and may or may not involve a glory hole.

Okay?  That’s a Cafe Steamer.  I’m just saying that if someone asks you if you’d like a Cafe Steamer, you may want to think about it.

It has occurred to me that there are some television shows that I truly hope are not aired overseas.  Let’s discuss one, shall we?

Man vs. Food.  This show is about a dumbass who travels around doing various food challenges in different restaurants.  The challenges are typically geared to defeat him either through the pure quantity of food he must consume or the amount of spice/heat in the food.

Most recently, this jackass went to Richmond, Virginia where he tried to eat 8 hotwings covered in a sauce that contained actual capsaicin.  This idiot sat down, signed a waiver and then began his greasy lipped, watery eyed, sauced finger adventure by slumping so far over that his chest appears to have given birth to his head – and then he knuckled down on a wing.  He was motivated by an exceptionally large young man who inspired the crowd to begin a rousing chorus of “U.S.A.! U.S.A.!”

He managed to make his way through the wings.  His reward?  A T-Shirt that says “I’m with Stupid” and has a finger…pointing up at the wearer’s head.  We are treated to a close up shot of wing bones as he declared his “independence from the stupid wing challenge.”  He then thrust up his arms and we are all treated to a sight that results from years of overeating and not enough sunshine.

Now, I tried to imagine explaining this show to, let us say, a hungry Indian child.  Here is how I imagine this conversation might go:

Random:  “This show is called Man versus Food.”

Hungry Indian Child:  “I do not understand. Why is he against food?  I love food.”

Random:  “Well, it is because he has to eat the food.  All of it.”

Hungry Indian Child:  *Blank Stare*

Random:  “Well, see, sometimes it is a really, really large amount of food.  Like one time, he had to eat 72 ounces of steak.”

Hungry Indian Child:  “Did he win a game show? Is that why he gets to eat this much food? How do I play this game?”

Random:  “No, no, it’s not like that…here, let’s watch.  Okay, see?  They are going to make him eat chicken.”

Hungry Indian Child:  “Oh! Chicken sounds very good!  I would like to try that!”

Random:  “Oh, but see, they are going to cover it with spices so hot that no one wants to eat it.”

Hungry Indian Child:  “They… are going to ruin the food first?”

Random:  “Exactly!  Then we all watch him eat it and chant our national pride.”

Hungry Indian Child:  “He is a large man.  It looks as if he has had enough to eat.  Does he share the food?”

Random:  “No, he has to eat it all himself.  She how he’s crying from how hot those chicken wings are?”

Hungry Indian Child:  “I am crying from hunger.”

Random:  “Want to watch another episode?”

Hungry Indian Child:  “HE GETS TO EAT MORE?!”

Ayup.

Have you seen this crap?  As you know, I sometimes take issue with television commercials.  There was the Dick Smucker ad.  Then the Folgers one about the kid who comes home from selling blood diamonds.  Now this one.

What the hell is that crap? How old is that woman that she still lives at home and her father cares when she comes home?   I mean, seriously, what is this crap?

Well, breathe easy, pops, cause you don’t have to worry.  You’ve granted permission to a man to take over the care of her wellbeing!  Like when a zoo in the U.S. agrees to adopt a panda from China.  Thank goodness she’s in good hands!

You misogynistic bastard.

*Click here for a far more eloquent and funny rant on this ad by my friend, Chic.)

1.  There is a new show on TV called Minute to Win It.  This was formerly known as Fun Party Games For Your 12 Year Old.  However, NBC decided to ruin it by A) having adults play it, B) getting Guy Fieri to host it, C) putting it on television and D) not requiring the contestants to be nude.

A) Adults doing these stupid things is sad.  Children doing it is funny and awesome.

B)  Guy Fieri is… wow, where do I begin?  Look, there’s no other way to put this.  Guy Fieri is a douchebag. In fact, if you go to Google and type in “Guy Fieri is” the first suggested search is “Guy Fieri is a douchebag.”  I wonder if he hangs out with his Google-Douchebag-Twin Bobby Flay.

C)  This is the kind of thing you put on YouTube, not television.

D)  I think this would help in two ways.  First, it would just make it more horribly entertaining.  And I mean entertaining in a way that is horrible.  Second, then some of these contestants might know shame.  See how that works?

2.  This morning on the Today show, Matt Lauer interviewed a woman whose brother, a miner with 30 years experience, was believed to be either dead or trapped in the mine.  After some questions, Matt thanked her for being on and she returned the thanks and said she wanted to do it so that viewers would pray “specifically” for her brother.

*Blink*

Whah?  Like, not for the other miners that might be trapped underground?  Dude, RUDE.  I forgot about it until this afternoon with Instigator asked if I’d seen the show…and heard the woman ask for people to pray for her brother specifically.  I laughed.  Of course we both noticed this.

3.  For a while, I watched Hoarders and Intervention.  Then I realized that every episode of Hoarders is exactly the same.  When shit say “Same shit, different Day” – well, that can be said about Hoarders, only change it to “Same shit, different house.”  I became cynical enough about Intervention that I began to cheer when the addicted person would basically say, “Screw off, I don’t want to get clean” and would refuse treatment.   The DVR caught an episode from Monday which I decided to watch.  It was about a boxer – formerly a really good boxer – who was addicted to crack.  One of the people at his intervention was a guy he used to train.  This dude took his intervention speech and wrote a poem.  A poem, people.  Like, “Please get clean, don’t be mean, get off crack, don’t be whack.”  Okay, so, maybe not that bad.

Except really?  Completely that bad.

1.  Mopey people should be put down.  Okay, so, maybe not put down for life.  But maybe just put down for a nap or something until they can sort themselves out and be ready to join in life again with a bit better of an attitude.  I am pretty sure I could never be a therapist unless “Get over it!” was a legitimate school of thought.

2.  Is a fountain pen pretentious?  Because I got one and really dig it and upon finding out, a friend remarked, “Doesn’t that make you feel pretentious?”

I think that is because she is envisioning this. (Yes, that’s a $57,000 fountain pen)

Instead of this.

I’m pretty sure that you’re not allowed to be pretentious with a clear, plastic, $24 fountain pen – which is what I’m using.

You know what cracks me up?  The reviews for that $57K fountain pen.  One says, “It is a pen. You write with it. It costs $57,000. What is wrong with you?“  heh.

The other says: “…A lovely choice for collectors of fine writing instruments but I was a bit disappointed the ink is a bit pricey.”  Really?  You’re disappointed that the ink is pricey for your $57,000 fountain pen? Really?  Guaranteed that guy is an asshole.

People boggle me.

3.  I woke up this morning when a warm dog tongue and a cold nose made contact with my face.

I suppose I can’t blame him.  He doesn’t know how to just put bacon in a pan and let it happen the natural way.

This morning, on the Today Show, a woman who described the hunt for a missing girl by saying, “They are literally turning over heaven and earth.”

Except, she didn’t really mean literally.

She meant, “but not for reals, yo.”

Do people know what this word means?  It’s like adding on, “I means it!” to stuff. It’s supposed to mean that what you just said was FOR SERIOUS.

It’s a fantastic ONE word that captures the concept that the actual meaning of the words you spoke should be taken at complete face value as the truth.  How wonderful that there is a single word to even describe such a concept!  You don’t have to say, “I’m serious.  I meant the meaning of each and every one of those words and the statement I just made is completely true.”

You don’t have to do that! There’s a word for it! It is:  literally

What a brilliant language.

Here.  Let’s ruin it.

Literally.

Besos read and and watched the Twilight series/movies.  I, however, find the vampire kick completely boring and rather ridiculous.  The other day, however, I recorded the first Twilight movie on DVR so she could watch it again.  And today, I cleaned out the DVR and saw it and thought, “Okay, I can do this. Let’s see what the excitement is about.”

I made it an hour in before I had turn it off.

First of all – that brown haired duded who plays the native american friend of the main chick – whatshername (WHN).  That guy is as good an actor as John Goodman – which is to say: not at all.  And he’s dating Taylor Swift, right?  I don’t listen to country music but she seems quite nice and I’m sure they are quite nice together (if they still are together) but my first thought upon seeing him was that if he and Taylor Swift had kids, the kids might end up tan or pale, brunette or blond – but one thing was for sure.

They’d have some momofuku squinty-ass eyes.

Okay, next.

This kid who is a vampire.  This kid looks like some one frying panned him in the face.  By that, I mean that he has an unusually flat face.  I mean, he really has quite the melon on that neck and sometimes, I’m surprised he doesn’t topple forward but what the hell do I know – maybe he has and that’s why he’s flatfaced?

Then I gather that WHN figures out that FlatFace is a vampire and he says that she should see him for what he really is – out in the sunlight.  So NOW I started to pay attention because I was thinking that this was going to be like when the mask gets ripped off the Phantom or the burlap sack gets lifted off the Elephant man.  Flatface is all, “Wait until you see WHO I REALLY AM. You will be SO SCARED.”

And then the jackass steps into some sunlight and…

he sparkles.

Like a kindergarten art project.  Like…all glittery.

WTF?

For real?  That’s *IT*?

No skin blistering?  No blood red eyes?  No blood curdling scream from the girl?  He just sparkles like someone dipped him in glue and he rolled around in glitter? What the HELL?

And that’s when I turned it off.

As you know, I run a break-up service.  My primary client is QTMama.  However, as I plan on expanding my client base, it makes good sense to show you my work.  Below, you will see three letters I have most recently drafted for QT.

Please feel free to contact me should you be needing my services.  I guarantee 100% closure.

THE CLIENT LETTER

Dear QT,

We’ve received your most recent order for one break up letter and have three from which you may make your selection.  Please let our office know your selection at your earliest convenience.

RE Breakup Letters, Inc.

Selection #1:  The Attorney Style, on behalf of QT

Dear Mr. Jackpot,

I am writing on behalf of my client, Ms. QTMama, whom I represent in this matter.  It has come to her unfortunate attention that you are not so much Jackpot as Crackpot.  Or, perhaps, in an effort to maintain the theme of this relationship, one might say that you have come up Snake Eyes.  You’ve Crapped Out.  You Busted.  You bet against the House and lost it all.

As Trustee of Ms. QTMama’s feelings, I must tell you that I am disgusted at how you managed her emotional funds while they were in your care.  Your negligence has consequences, not only for her, but primarily, for you.  That consequence is that you are no longer entitled to manage said funds and are cut off from receiving additional funds.  Please act like a gentleman and do not attempt to beg for more funds from the coffers.

As a gambler, I am sure you know that if you squander the funds entrusted to you, you eventually ruin your credit and no more will be extended to you.

Cordially,

Random Esq.

2.  The Poetic Style, with apologies to Joyce Kilmer

To Whom It May Concern:

I think that I shall never see
A man as foolish as are thee.

A man whose feelings run amuck,
like a gambler, out of luck;

A man that sucks the fun from life,
with needless toil and worthless strife;

A man that may not ever lay
his hand upon my great snacktray;

Upon my bosom, men have lain,
but your attempts will be in vain.

Poems are made by fools like me,
But not as big a fool as thee.

-QT

3.  The Short and Sweet Style

Dear Jackpot,

I do not like you anymore.

-QT

Again, please let us know your selection as soon as possible.  Most sincerely,  -Your Cookie, RandomEsq.

p.s. QT asks that you let us know which letter you prefer.

1.  I heard Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer today.  I just gotta ask, when is there ever a warm, moist air mass moving over the North Pole on Christmas Eve?  Is fog really an issue at the North Pole?  So I decided to figure it out.  Turns out that because the air is so bitterly cold, it takes a really small amount of water in the air before it saturates, resulting in fog.  But not of water droplets – of ice crystals.  And this is not an infrequent thing.  So I guess the song does sort of make sense.

2.  And then I realized that I’d spent far too much time thinking about that.  Because, really, is the fog part where the song loses credibility for me?  Not the anthropomorphic reindeer?  Or Santa or the LED nose animal?   No.  See, I quickly pinpoint the fog and question that.

Sometimes, my brain is useless.

3.  You may have heard – I have a new service that I’m offering.  But you’ll have to visit QT’s blog Friday morning to hear more about it.

Speaking of, check out that little Meg Ryan.

4.  I am the product of miscegenation.  This means that rarely a week will go by when someone does not ask me about my ethnicity.  However, I fully admit that it sometimes gets tiresome.  I would probably not mind except that most people seem to think that this is an acceptable way to inquire about your ethnicity:  “What are you?”

Sometimes, because I have decided to be playfully difficult, the conversation goes like this:

Person: “What are you?”

RE:  “American.”  Big smile.

Person: “No, I mean, like, where are you from?”

RE: “Oh!  Sorry – I’m from Chicago.”  Big smile.

Person: “Where were you born?”

RE: “Ohhh, Minnesota.”  Winning smile.

Person: “But what language do you speak?”

RE: “…English.”  Confused look.

Person: “I meant other than English.”

RE:  “Oh!  French.”

I don’t look French – even though I am 1/4 French.  I do appreciate the curiosity but sometimes, I want to make something up.  So I’ve decided to start saying, “I’m Caraway.  Perhaps you’ve heard of our seeds.”

5.  I realize that I have shifted this posture to Little Filthy. Once, while dining al fresco with the pooch under the table, a man walked by, did a double take at him and clearly wondered what breed he was.  The beast is pug-chihuahua.  The man said slowly, “What….is he?”

I said slowly, “He…is   a     dog…”

Amy Dickinson is an advice columnist for the Chicago Tribune.  She is often on NPR, too.  I used to think she was okay.  Until she informed a woman who had been raped that she was “a victim of [her] own awful judgment.”

*insert needle scratch across record*

You can read the article here.  Basically, a girl writes to Amy and relays a story about going to a frat party, getting intoxicated and being in a room alone with a boy.  She told him no, she did not want to have sex.  At some point, she realizes that he has gone against her wishes but she has a delayed reaction due to the alcohol.  They are then interrupted and must leave the room.  She asks Amy: “I guess my question is, if I wasn’t kicking and fighting him off, is it still rape?”

What is so massively offensive about Amy’s response is that she does not say, definitively, “YES.”

Instead, she says that the woman is a victim of her own bad judgment.  Then she warns against “getting drunk at a frat house” as it may result in “unwise or unwanted sexual contact.”   The problem here is that her logic reads like this: “You got drunk at a frat party.  Don’t you know that getting drunk like that often leads to unwanted sexual contact?”

Amy seems to have forgotten that there is no rape without a rapist.  She completely skipped over that little tidbit.

You don’t just get drunk and suddenly there’s some unwanted sexual contact.  There’s another party involved who is doing the unwanted sexual contact. Perhaps Amy meant to say:   if you get drunk at a frat house, your chances of unwanted sexual contact increases because rapists are more likely to target you.  But she just leaves it at “drunk at frat house = unwanted sexual contact.”  That’s unacceptable because while it may be a woman’s choice to get drunk at a frat house, that doesn’t mean she is consenting to unwanted sexual contact.

You know why rape happens, Amy?  Because there are rapists.  Not because someone got drunk.

I won’t be purchasing another Tribune or contributing to NPR while this woman still works for them or is associated with them.

Disgusted in Chicago,

RandomEsq.

p.s.  Please pass this on to your readers and encourage their voice be heard on the Tribune’s website.  I have left my comments there, as well.