Do they call it Garbage time because when a team is up big, their defense starts to play like garbage? I mean do defensive players these days Play to Win, but once they're in position to, it's time to let players on their fantasy teams or their friends fantasy teams rack up some numbers? Do these players start to feel bad that they have to make a game of it all the time? Defenses that stop playing hard for 60 minutes even though they are up big is to football what the pitch count is to baseball.. does some damage to the integrity of the game.
I moved into a new neighborhood back in July. But because I'm always busy working on this site and avoiding the fat women at the gym, I've never had the time to walk around my neighborhood. Hell, up until two months ago, I didn't even know who my neighbors were. I assumed Russian gypsies lived to my left.
My friend Ben called me a month ago. Since it was a nice day out, I decided to walk around while talking to him. I ventured down to a nearby cul-de-sac and noticed a path to the right of the last house. I was curious, so I walked down the path. A couple of minutes later, I interrupted Ben.
Me: Ben, you'll never guess what I just found.
Ben: What is it?
Me: I found a path that leads to a Sonic burger joint! And on the other side is a supermarket called Bottom Dollar Food!
Me: Yes! I can buy fast food for now and more food for later NOM NOM NOM NOM!!!!
This was truly very exciting for me. I knew about the Sonic - I saw it from the other road - but I never knew that I could walk to it. And furthermore, if I ever need groceries, I can just take a short walk instead of driving somewhere. This is a good thing because Angry Black Man said I should stay off the streets. He never said anything about parking lots and cul-de-sacs.
It's been a month, but I haven't been to Sonic yet because I've been swamped with covering the NFL Draft. And on my days off, it's been cold outside. As a rule, I don't go outside if it's less than 55 degrees. I'm a wuss.
I did manage to go to Bottom Dollar Food, however, during one afternoon. That'll be the main focus of this Jerks of the Week entry.
A quick side note: I don't believe in shopping carts. Shopping carts are for women, children and heterosexually challenged guys (not that there's anything wrong with that). A real man carries his own food; a real man doesn't rely on a shopping cart of any sort.
With that in mind, I carried the following food items in my arms to the cash register: cheddar Pringles, microwaveable buffalo chicken strips, Cocoa Puffs, frozen pepperoni pizza and a case of Pepsi Throwback. Yeah, I know, this is all healthy food. What can I say? The summer's coming, and I have to look good for any potential hot chick neighbors I meet when I actually go outside.
I paid $18.70 for my items. However, the cashier didn't put my food into paper or plastic bags. Instead, he loaded them into a shopping cart.
I bet you're thinking, "Umm... what? A shopping cart?" Yeah. I didn't get it either. I thought he might be hitting on me, but I saw the other cashiers do this as well.
I looked over to an orange table by the windows and spotted a middle-aged woman putting her groceries into paper bags. I figured the bags were there, but I looked around and didn't see anything. Other people pushed their shopping cart out of the store, presumably to load the groceries into their car. Since I didn't have a car with me at the time, this was going to be a problem.
After a couple of minutes, I finally gave in and asked the woman what the hell was going on.
Me: Excuse me, I'm kinda confused by what to do here.
Woman: I'm guessing this is your first time here.
Me: Pretty obvious, huh?
Woman: Yeah, don't worry, I was confused the first time too. They don't bag your groceries here, so you need to bring your own bags.
Me: Really? What if I don't have bags?
Woman: You can buy five bags here for a quarter.
I was lucky this woman was there because she lent me two of her bags. But seriously, what kind of crap is that? Imagine going to a restaurant, ordering a cheeseburger and then asking for ketchup. What if the waiter said, "Sorry, we don't have ketchup - you have to bring your own?"
I don't know about you, but I'd be pretty pissed. Sure, I carry packets of ketchup around with me at all times - who doesn't? - but they're only for emergencies.
I almost want to say that I'm never going to Bottom Dollar Food ever again. But that would be a lie. When I have more free time, I'll develop another craving for Pringles, microwaveable buffalo chicken strips, Cocoa Puffs, frozen pepperoni pizza and Pepsi Throwback. I'm already drooling. NOM NOM NOM NOM.
JERK OF THE WEEK NO. 2: Checkups
OK, I lied. As I'm typing this (a couple of weeks ago), I just came home from a trip to Bottom Dollar Food. And, I didn't buy Pringles, microwaveable buffalo chicken strips, Cocoa Puffs, frozen pepperoni pizza and Pepsi Throwback. I know. I'm ashamed of myself too.
Let's back up three days. On Tuesday, I had a routine checkup scheduled. I'm pretty sure I was still in college the last time I had a checkup, so I thought it was about time.
Like most of you, I hate checkups. There's nothing more awkward than a doctor telling you to pull your pants down so he can feel your balls (not that there's anything wrong with that.) I know it's part of the procedure, but it's pretty icky to me. I feel like doctors should hire hot chicks to do this. They could train these hot chicks to feel for whatever bad things the doctors look for when they touch your balls. And hey, maybe if you hand the hot chick $20, she can give you a happy ending to your checkup. Just a thought.
At any rate, my checkup went smoothly except for two things. First, my blood pressure was slightly above normal (128 over 88). And second, when my blood work came back the following day, my doctor told me that my good cholesterol was slightly below normal.
Normally, I wouldn't think twice about this and just celebrate the conclusion of my checkup with a cheesesteak and cheese fries, but my dad had a heart attack a couple of months ago. I asked my doctor what I should do, and he told me to exercise, and to eat more potassium and cut down on the sodium.
I already exercise - I've chronicled my close encounters with the fat women at my gym pool ad nauseum - so my mission was to find out if there were any tasty foods that contained potassium.
I asked around to see what I could eat. Here was a typical conversation:
Me: Hey, do you know of any good food that has a lot of potassium?
Friend: Apricots, carrot juice, dates, chick peas and beans.
Me: Yeesh. What about pepperoni pizza, mozzarella sticks, and macaroni and cheese?
Friend: Yeah, not so much.
What a nightmare. Carrot juice, dates and beans? I'd rather have 10 male doctors touch my balls than eat that crap (not that there's anything wrong with that).
Fortunately, I found some potassium-enriched food that I like. I'm a fan of orange juice. Raisins can be cool. And bananas are good too. But let's just make sure that there's vodka in the orange juice; chocolate on the raisins; and ice cream surrounding the banana, OK?
I could always steal bananas from my parents' house, so I went to Bottom Dollar Food to buy orange juice and raisins. I found the O.J., but searched everywhere for the raisins. I walked by every aisle twice, but couldn't find them. Maybe I shouldn't have been so focused on the bags of Cheetos and boxes of Twinkies.
I eventually gave up and asked for help, which is something I absolutely hate doing. I spotted a worker in his 40s who asked me if I was looking for something in particular. When I answered, "raisins," he laughed. Come on, man. Raisins may not be the most heterosexual food in the world (not that there's anything wrong with non-heterosexual food), but my doctor is making me eat them, damn it. And plus, I plan on dunking them in chocolate syrup, so there!
I bought a whole jar of raisins. When I came home, I poured myself a glass of orange juice (no vodka because it was 4 in the afternoon and I had to write this) and looked at the raisin jar. It said I would get 9 percent of my daily potassium if I had a cup of raisins.
One question: What the hell is a cup of raisins? How many raisins is this? Why don't they ever say this on the label? How can I possibly tell what a cup is? I have cups of various sizes in my house. There a big cups. There are small cups. There are medium-sized cups. Which one is the real cup size?
I gave up and poured what seemed like hundreds of raisins into a cereal bowl and snacked on them for about an hour and a half. I'm pretty sure that I consumed a cup of raisins - and without any chocolate syrup because I forgot to buy that. And not that there's anything wrong with eating raisins without chocolate syrup.
JERK OF THE WEEK NO. 3: Osama bin Laden
If Jerks of the Week existed 10 years ago, Osama bin Laden would have been the Jerk of the Century. I don't know what I specifically would have written, but it would have been an angry tirade. I'm sure I would have tied in some of the fat women from my gym as well.
Nine-and-a-half years later, Osama bin Douchebag is dead. Thank God.
I heard the news just as I finished the Checkup Jerks of the Week. I then posted the following on Facebook:
"Damn it, I have to finish my Jerks of the Week. Can't go out and celebrate."
I received tons of responses to it, including:
Steven A: "i don't think america will mind if u post on tuesday to celebrate."
Sean M: "Osama Bin Laden is the Jerk of the Decade!"
Rob M: "I know I wouldn't, go celebrate for everybody that has to get up at 6am!"
Robby R: "make osamam the jerk of the decade"
Daniel S: "take a day off, go to the gym and avoid being eaten by large russian woman and post it on tuesday :P"
However, the first response to my post was the catalyst of this Jerks of the Week:
Dominic D: "Can't you just say Osama is the jerk of the week and go get s***faced?"
Hell yes. Thanks, Dominic. And thanks to our troops who killed that scumbag.