Random Esquire

I am already the problem student in Spanish class.

But it isn’t really my fault.  See, we were going over nouns and what is masculine and feminine and I noticed that you say ‘el gato‘ for male cat and ‘la gata‘ for female cat. So I applied my awesome logic to this and here is how it went:

Random:  “Ohhh, so if I have a female dog, I’d say ‘yo tengo una perra‘.”

Teacher:  *GRIN*

Random: *Blink*

Teacher:  “‘La perra‘ means ‘bitch’ and in parts of the world, ‘la perra‘ is slang for prostitute.  You said that you have a prostitute.”

Random:  *Blink*

*Sigh*

So class continues and we are practicing sentences aloud.  I am supposed to say that I am on a trip.

Trip.

Which is, in Spanish, viaje.

“en un viaje” = “on a trip.”

Except, if you can’t remember the correct word for trip and you can’t remember if it is masculine or feminine, one might say in class:

“… en una vieja.”

Which basically means “on an old lady.”

That’s right.  I said that I was on an old lady.

So, just to recap so we’re all together:

Class #1:  I informed the class that I have a prostitute and that I am on an old lady.

I am already the problem student in Spanish class.

1.  I start Spanish classes on Thursday.  Just think…in 8 short weeks, I’ll be president of Mexico!

2.  I will no longer say “piece of shit.”  I’m going to say “chunk of shit” – it’s got a little something…more to it.

3.  Now…let’s be clear.

I didn’t shrink his head.

Or stick clown feet on him.

That’s just how he looks.

When he’s sitting up.

On the couch.

Like a person.

Everybody hates a martyr.

That’s why someone killed them.

okay?

1.  I took my work wife out for drinks after work on Tuesday.  I had a beer.

She drank bourbon.

It’s not easy being work-married to me.

2.  It occurred to me today that when I see the color orange, it may be seen by someone else as purple, etc. and that we’re all seeing different colors for everything.  And maybe the same is true for the things we smell.  Or eat.  Maybe turkey in my mouth tastes completely different than turkey in someone else’s mouth.  I wonder what it would be like to eat with someone else’s mouth for a day.  Just to see what they think things taste like.

And then I wondered (again) if everything I smell is polluted somehow with the smell of the inside of my nose.  It’s sort of like a filter or sunglasses – it has to color everything, right?  What if the inside of my nose has a smell and so everything smells like just some variation of it?

3.  It has come to my attention that Lady Date Penelope has been fooling around on the side.  I am a little upset.  But not like, you know, Mel Gibson upset or anything.  I mean, I’m not a Nazi, for Christ’s sake.

4.  Regarding the previous entry – I concluded that I think there is a grain of truth to the saying.  Here is how I reached that conclusion.

I swapping the genders so that it read:

A)  “a man wants to have sex with a woman because he’s fallen in love with her. A woman falls in love with a man because she wants to have sex with him”

and then I compared it to the original:

B)  “a woman wants to have sex with a man because she’s fallen in love with him. A man falls in love with a woman because he wants to have sex with her”

and I did not think to myself, “They are both completely wrong.”  Instead, A) seemed somehow *more* inaccurate than B).

So I concluded that I think there is a smidge of truth to the saying.

5.  I’d like to ask someone to smell the inside of my nose but it isn’t like I could take their word on what it smells like anyway.

Where’s Descartes when I need him?

My sister and I spoke today.  She and her husband are experiencing the seven year itch.  Only, it appears to have gone from an itch to a rash, pending full breakout of hives.  We talked about marriage and men and women.  I asked her, “Have you ever heard that ‘a woman wants to have sex with a man because she’s fallen in love with him.  A man falls in love with a woman because he wants to have sex with her’?”

My sister started laughing and said, “What?!”

And then we discussed whether or not it had any merit.

So what say you, readers?  We all know it isn’t true all the time – I’m just curious about if you think there’s some truth to it at all.

What do you think?

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.

Dude. Check out the youngest kid, next to the dog.

Lady Date Penelope double fists it.

And stumbles home in the morning.

1. I got a culinary chubby the other day.  Here’s how it happened.

I walked down the hall toward my loft and smelled… Cake and bacon.  Cake and bacon!  I think that if I had smelled coffee, I might have flopped around on the ground.

2.  There’s something satisfying about eating food *off* of something.

Like, ribs.  Or corn on the cob.  Or food on a stick.  Whatever.

3.  Instigator was in my office today and we were talking about a recent dinner out after which… we hugged each other.  See, we’re co-workers.  So we don’t hug each other – despite the fact that Instigator is my work girlfriend.

I asked Instigator,  “Is that the first time we’ve hugged?”

Instigator stared at me.  She said, “What?”

I repeated, “Is that the first time we’ve hugged?”

Her eyes got larger and she said, “WHAT?”

I said, “I asked if that is the first we have ever hugged each other.”

Instigator said, “Oh my God, I thought you asked if that was the first time we fucked.”

I burst out laughing and then I said it a few times outloud again and sure enough, it does sort of sound like I asked her if that was the first time we’d fucked.

I’ll see if HR calls me tomorrow.

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.