Vincent: And you know what they call a Quarter Pounder with Cheese in Paris?

Jules: They don't call it a Quarter Pounder with cheese?
Vincent: No man, they got the metric system. They wouldn't know what the fuck a Quarter Pounder is.
Jules: Then what do they call it?
Vincent: They call it a Royale with cheese.
Jules: A Royale with cheese. What do they call a Big Mac?
Vincent: Well, a Big Mac's a Big Mac, but they call it le Big-Mac.
Jules: Le Big-Mac. Ha ha ha ha. What do they call a Whopper?
Vincent: I dunno, I didn't go into Burger King.

Submitted for your approval, is a quick tour of the various offerings from McD's. Most sound pretty damn tasty.

MCDONALD'S WORLD TOUR

Massive McMuffin
The name says it all. This meat-tastic sandwich is brought to you by the fine folks at your local New Zealand McD. While really not anything unique or impossible to achieve here in the states, it's still a mighty nice sammich. It makes me wish I woke up early so I can get breakfast. Instead, I enjoy giving myself the least amount of time available before work so I can be very rushed and forget files and etc.




SPAM, Eggs and Rice
I can't say I have a problem with any of the three ingredients. Some things in life are good by themselves and don't need no crazy combinations. It's kind of like acombining Popeyes, baseball and porno all at once (AKA Victor's Saturday nights). Apparently, in that crazy place called Hawaii, the natives are big fans of SPAM. I haven't had SPAM in ages, but I tell you what, you crack open a can and fry them up, that's some good eating.



Chicken Maharaja Mac
In the great land of India, where cows are sacred, there's no such thing as a Big Mac. Luckily for the Indians who enjoy the meats, McD's offers this tasty treat. Nevermind that the chicken may contain the spirits of a relative, it's not cow at least. It's sounds pretty good as it's essentially a Big Mac without cows or the secret sauce. Although, there is some sort of orangish sauce in the picture, which may be chutney-based.

McCurry Pan
We stay in India for this next crazy offering. All I will say is that it looks like somebody threw up in a coffin. The official description is "A rich Béchamel eggless sauce mixed with exotic vegetables like broccoli, baby corn, mushrooms, red capsicum and freshly baked on rectangular spiced bread with a cheese topping." There's about 3 words in that sentence I don't understand, but the gist seems to be "no meat" and therefore, not tasty. Also, don't ask why, but the Injun McD website is in English. Good for them!


Pizza McPuff
This product is found all over the world where a McDonald's lacks a decent local product. They will roll out this oversized Jeno's Pizza Roll, which according to some, is akin to our McRib. Natives will stab each other with sharpened goat bones in order to get the last McPuff. It seems that whoever is the Marketing Director at McD's international seems to think like I do in making names. It's a pretty simple formula: Product McDescription. For example, Chicken McFried. Or Penis McLong. It's nowhere near as smart as my name for Julia, Hippy McStinkerton, but you get the picture. The point remains though that this McPuff looks like McShit.




Beef "Fan"-tastic
From my homeland of China comes this crazy looking burger. First, the name of the burger itself is pretty unique as it is a play on words s "fan" is Chinese for rice. As you can kind of see, the buns are basically two glutinous rice patties. The filling is sliced teriyaki beef with grilled onions and lettuce. Sounds kind of good in a Chinese-kind of way. It's like making a grilled cheese sandwhich with rice cakes instead of toast. It also sounds like something that would be huge in places like Berkeley or Seattle because a) it involves rice, which hippy liberal whites love as it makes them feel "sophisticated" and "worldly" and b) it's un-American.



McAfrika
This one wins the award for worst naming. It definitely breaks the "Product McDescription" formula. First off, this sammich is from Norway. It was an attempt to show that the burger had African spices and ingredients. Like beef. Which, as we all know, is purely African. Of cousre, our fine Norwegian brethren have protested as the irony of naming a fatty and opulent sammich after the poorest and hungriest continent did not sit well with the Olafs and Ulas of Oslo. While critics may claim that the name is "tasteless", believe you me, that burger itself looks absolutely delicious. If offensive burgers are the new rage, maybe McD's can come out with a new Italian-style burger called the Wopper. I'd buy that for a dollar.


Lastly, it is a little known fact that there is another member of the Grimace family. That's right, introducing...

Yep, Grimace apparantly has a bit o' the Irish luck in him. This drunken uncle would appear in national campaigns around St. Paddy's day back in the 70's when McD's had a Shamrock Shake. O'Grimacey was renowned for farting the alphabet and giving squirrels' a stiffy. Just for the hell of it. Sadly, Uncle O'Grimacey's penchant for tea-bagging one-legged hookers and flashing the Fry Guys led to him succumbing to Hepatitis C.

Posted by Victor at 5:10 PM | Permalink | Comments

As all two of you readers may be aware, things have been slow on the updates. I can only blame insane boredom and having nothing really exciting happen to stir up the ole creative bone. The most exciting thought to pop in my head recently was the image of swimming in a vat of hot chicks and Popeye's. I'm pretty sure nobody needs to hear any more of the story other than "yak'em". I stumbled upon the a webiste "www.creativewritingprompts.com". Apparantly, it's just a bunch of random ideas that supposedly can help jog your creative pickle. So, here goes. I'm going to try to do as many as I can for a stretch of a week, one a day, and see how many people I can bore to death.

Day 1 - "Use all of these words in a poem: crash, crumpled paper, straw, gravel, ochre"

This creative assignment is a piece of trash
Heaps and heaps of crumpled paper
Seems I should give up and crash
Gotta watch out for that rumpled raper
It's pretty obvious I'm grabbing at straws
This poem's smooth like glass and gravel
I like to suck on fish named craws
Especiallly in Nawlins, where I like to travel
I met this chick with hair of ocre
Damn, I'd wish I could poke her.

Yeesh, I dunno what's worse, this lame attempt at a poem, or the fact that i spent about 20 minutes trying to rhyme with straws. I'd like to blame that site for lame ideas, but I pretty sure it's mostly my lack of talent. I don't really know how to salvage this pathetic attempt at a post of humor, so I'm just quit before it gets any worse. I'm welcome to any ideas, or, perish the thought....guest appearances.

Posted by Victor at 7:45 PM | Permalink | Comments

So, I've been recently accused by some friends as being a surly old coot. Not that being grumpy is necessarily a bad thing, but I've decided that I probably have the mindset of a 68 year-old Florida retiree. All those damn kids and their hippity-hop type music, those singer-songwriters who have girlie hair and sing in girlie voices (damn you, James Blunt and Maroon 5!) and that M-Tee-Vee. With that said, this will be a nice, long rant about what's wrong with kids today. And having a little brother who's entering that generation, I get good and pissed when I hear what he thinks is "cool.

1) MTV - "You think about this: when you get old, these kids - when *I* get old - they're going to be running the country...Now this is the thought that wakes me up in the middle of the night. That when I get older, these kids are going to take care of me." - Principal Richard Vernon

Well, I don't want to get into this before I've gotten my coffee, but what the hell. Since this channel is stuck between my cable range for ESPN and the Cartoon Network, I often have to scan by it on my surfing trips. I'm sure most of y'all are aware of that God-awful show, "My Super Sweet Sixteen." Man, just saying the title makes me want to vomit. My like, totally, SUPER SWEET sixteen! I hope most see the evil of the ways, but for those who may watch it with a starry-eyed gleam, you suck. The crux of this show is essentially to glorify how awful teenagers can be when they are given an excess amount of money. A typical episode usually involves some semi-attractive stereotypical girl who wants to through a HUGE party at the parent's expense. The part of the show I unfortunately suffered through had a scene where this girl and her friend having a big to-do about who can and can't come to the party. To get on the list, they had to do a dance-off in front of her. Heh, while I admit that's kind-of cool in a totally Ice Queen-bitch move, it still is pretty lame. And to be shown on TV, no less. I don't know what the redeeming value of this show is, but then again, I love me some wrasslin', so I can't say diddly-poo about pointless shows. Tarnations, I lost my train o' thought. The point is that with these "reality" shows like My Super Sweet Sixteen and Bride-zilla (totally heinous brides freaking about their wedding), I don't know what the message seems to be. I'm hoping it's just for the pure "train-wreck" aspect, but methinks that it's slowly seeping into the minds of the youth's that that should be the norm. All I know is that last night, as I channel-surfed after the Braves ass-wooping, I saw Sweet Sixteen, some show about girls looking for action and Girls Gone Wild commercials. It seems that the message TV sends me is a) chicks are horny all the time, b) chicks dig money and c) all girls are conniving and evil. You feminists out there are probably pissing your man-pants, but, hey, get to stepping as y'all are blowing it!



2) Fashion - Yeah yeah, so I know jackshit about fashion. And I admit that I'm still behind the times in terms of accepting what's "cool". Even though I still find guys wearing pink un-American, I don't choke on my own anger as often about it. Light or salmon pink, fine. Blazing hot pink. Got-dang it! But, nothing really pisses me off even more so than the popped collar. I've tried this so-called fad a couple of times at Braves games, and I can tell you, I felt truly like an asshole. I don't get what the point of the popped collar is, but high-school girls were not flocking to my coolness. Not only that, but the popped collar affected both my chopping ability AND the Braves lost. Whatever happened to the good ol' days where a dude looked cool sporting some CK jean shorts and a Duck Head shirt?

3) Music - "Sensitive" singer-songwriters singing in falsetto. Paris Hilton and Lindsay Lohan. American Idol. Snoop selling mints instead of rapping. Songs ripping off 80s hits. Sexy underage singers. I'll let the Cos finish up my rant.

Posted by Victor at 2:46 PM | Permalink | Comments

Oh buddy. In order to celebrate such a grand number, we're going to get a little blue. This might not be safe for the kids and the virgin eyes of folks, so read on at your own abandon. We're gonna take a little stroll down the origins of some of our favorite sexual terms and how they arose. Heh. This will be a XXX euphemism fest and probably pretty offensive. But, hell, I'm already seen as a racist, so why not add "filthy pervert" to the list. So, let's go.

1) Blowjob - To me, this has always been one of the greatest oxymorons. Like jumbo shrimp, vegetarian hamburger and Auburn Championship, the connotation of blow job boggles the mind. It's been a while, but from what I recall, there really isn't much blowing involved. Unless you are dealing with a chick (or guy...I guess) who has absolutely no concept of sex and what feels good, there should the complete opposite action of blowing. In fact, I would surmise that blowing into said whamdoodle would not feel too good. It's an out-hole, for Pete's sake! *Shudder* Now, someone with more knowledge may claim that it feels good, but I just can't imagine air and pressure being internally directed would feel any better than a douche/enema. Then again, some of y'all out there are fucking disgusting. 'Nuff said. Thus, the question is, where did this term come from? According to wikipedia:

The common slang term blow-job is a misnomer, as blowing is not normally part of fellatio. In fact, blowing air into a partner's penis is an unhealthy practice. It is most commonly thought to be a facetious use of "blow" as the opposite of "suck". It has been suggested to be a corruption of "below-job", allegedly an old Victorian slang term that was commonly used to describe the act. However, there is a third school of thought that believes the word "blow" in "blow-job" indicates the climax of the penis (compare to blowing of a volcano). The phrase "blow-job" originated in the 1940's.

Close enough.

Cute fuzzy animals say "Get your mind out of the gutter"

Posted by Victor at 6:35 PM | Permalink | Comments

Ah, Atlanta is such a fine town. Not only do I get to deal with crippling smog, traffic up the pooper, and semi-aggressive hobos, I get to relate this "only funny to me" stories. Here goes nothing.

1) There is a Publix located right in Midtown Atlanta. It's one of those unique situations where yuppies and the homeless co-exist. As an aspiring hobo, I've learned that the supermarket is often a hobo's best friend. Other than finding a half-dranken beer, a supermarket is like hitting the lottery. First, the dumpsters are essentially buffets. Then, you got a free car lot with shopping carts as far as the dirty eye can see. Sadly, the fine folks at Publix have put an end to this homeless nirvana. As most stores do, they have locked the dumpsters. Fair enough. Now, they go one step further. Knowing that shopping carts are the lifeblood of the bum, they have installed these fancy auto-lock carts. They have some gadget on the back wheel that will lock the wheels when you roll the carts past a certain distance. Kind of like those invisible fences for dogs. If you take the cart past this line, they shut down!!! Yep, it's like the Club for shopping carts. I think a sign of society's downfall is when you have anti-theft protection for shopping carts. Sadly, I was unable to test out the effectiveness as the parking lot security gave me the "Sir, where are you going?" Curses, foiled again! But, the war on transients is going to a whole new level. I may have to rethink my gameplan on surviving on $5 a day.


2) You would think that old people would steer clear of big city living. Especially at 12 in the AM. Normally, drive-throughs at this time are reserved for semi-drunken folks who have the need for some onion rings, a cheese burrito and a cherry coke with no ice. You don't expect to see Gramma Jenkins with her big-ass Continental. Sadly, old people don't get smarter as the day gets later. At the local McDonald's, it seemed that Granny Smith wanted to try the "new" Sweet Tea. (As a non sequitar, the southern-styled chicken sammich ain't worth your time...just go to Chick-fil-A...unless it's Sunday). So, she drives on through, parks probably two 5-year olds away from the speakerbox. She was loud enough that I could hear her order. But, she was probably closer to my car than to the box. After many exchanges of "Large senior sweet tea" and "Speak English, por favor." She just drove up to the front. Yeah, that's the extent of the story. Point is, old people should not be ordering food at midnight. I don't know how they do things here in the big city, but back where I'm from, our elderly went to sleep at 7:45, and that's the we liked it, dagnabbit!

3) Journey. Without Steve Perry. Sold-Out. Yeah, I don't get it, either. As the day nears, I don't think I can get any tickets at a reasonable non-Steve Perry price! It blows my mind that these big-city folks would shell out $90 to see two bands with drummers that have a total of three arms. And, let me mention again, NO STEVE PERRY! The replacement is Steve Augeri. As you can see in the picture, he's kind of like a Sam's Choice Brand; not as attractive or nicely packaged (heh) as the real deal, but still basically the same thing. Hell, their names even rhyme! I'm not paying $50 to see some cheap knock-off. It's like wanting to experience SEC football and going to an Auburn game. Sure, you'll get a taste of the real deal, but in the end, you end up reeking of mullet and Skoal. But, Foreigner tickets are still available. It's in Peachtree City (which is essentially Bumfuck Egypt) and nobody wants to go. Even when I offered to rent a T-top Camaro and roll down there with some High Life and jean shorts, nobody I know was interested. Maybe I need to hang out with the 40, twice-divorced and working at Payless Shoes folks.

4) Most people are probably familiar with craigslist.com. It's like a community website for your city. You can look for jobs, dates, tickets, etc etc. Almost all major cities have it, even Huntsville! But, alas, there isn't much activity. There's on interesting section under the personals section called "Missed Connections." Here's the gist of it: You see some hottie and are too afraid to talk to her, but you make eye contact. Puss out, go home onto your computer and post (ACTUAL POST) "You were at Eatzi's Sunday night. You were blonde and wearing a pink tank top and skirt. I was dressed down in a white t shirt and khaki shorts with glasses. We caught eyes but you were on your cell phone. If you see this and remember me, write back. " Pretty good stuff for the hopeless romantic/murderous stalker types. I did scope out the pages for Huntsville, Birmingham and Jacksonville. One in Jax said "In the bar during the WC finals. You were cheering for France and rocking some fly playboy gear. Your awesome fist-pumps and European ways make me want to wave the white flag and surrender to you."

5) For no reason...here's Apu. And man, he's living my dream:

"Cuz I'm...HOT-BLOODED, Check it and see! I gotta fever of a hundred and three!"

UPDATE: According to MTV.com (I'll give you one guess why I happened upon the link), "Current Journey singer Steve Augeri has been forced to leave the band's tour with Def Leppard due to a chronic throat infection. Jeff Scott Soto, who has previously performed with Journey guitarist Neal Schon, will take over beginning Friday (7/7/06) in Bristow, Virginia." So, yeah, $80 for the third-stringer Steve Perry. I don't think so.

Posted by Victor at 9:47 AM | Permalink | Comments

With my week long hiatus/vacation, I would think that coming back, my creative batteries would be all sorts of recharged. My mind would be awash in witty situations and unique observations. Doh. I'd like to think that spending the time with old friends would create great new stories. As such, I'll blame my friends for not doing more dumbass stuff so that I could mock them on this blog. I guess I have to blame myself, too, as I did nary a dumbass thing. Well, I wouldn't say I was dumbass-free, but nothing worthy of reprinting as it's my usual "drink too much scotch and put salt in people's hair" type stuff. Nothing funny, just usual jerkish immature stuff. Anyways, we'll try to move on from there and attempt some humor.

One interesting note from the 4th, we went to see the Bodies Exhibition in Atlanta. In case y'all ain't familiar with these big-city goings, it's essentially a bunch of dead people arranged in ways to see how our body works. For you doctors and nurses, it's probably no different than what gross anat was like. And for people who were at one point pre-med before getting D's in organic chem, it's not terribly frightening. Or so I thought. There's something just very creepy about a body stripped of it's skin and just on exhibit. What's even creepier is the amount of people there who wanted to give it the touchy-touch. Anyways, there were tons of exhibits for each of the human systems like respiratory, skeletal, and of course, reproductive. It's one thing to see a penis split in half in an anatomy book; it's another thing to see an actual dead penis cut in half. Needless to say, I had one of those quiet screams and slowly backed off. Boy, I didn't know that that's what he looked like on the inside, but that's the last time I need to see it cut in half. Seeing the hoo-hoo dilly cut in half wasn't really all that, either. There were some creepy exhibits with the hall of birth defects and fetuses (fetusi?). But, the whole time, I did notice that the people seemed to have slanted eyes. I thought perhaps that that was what they looked like without skin and being DEAD. Also, Pittman remarked that all the johnsons were pretty small and unimpressive as he likes the bigger ones. Alas, despite opening myself up for penis-length jokes, I shall move ahead with the anecdote. As we neared the end, they described the source and process of these bodies. Apparently, these were bodies from a Chinese university. My first thought was "Damn Commies! Selling people's bodies to make a buck." Second thought: "Hm, Pittman's gonna have a field day with the stupid small penis jokes." Last thought: "Dang, I guess that's what I'm gonna look like when I kick the bucket...but with a bigger schlong." All in all, I think it's pretty educational and interesting to look at a bunch of dead Chinaman. If anything, it'll prove to certain people that Asian women do NOT have sideways vaginnys.

Yeah, that's one person...
His skeleton is holding hands with the rest of him...and he DOES look Asian!

Posted by Victor at 1:30 PM | Permalink | Comments