This post is written specifically for the guy calling himself “Doubting Thomas” who runs The Journal of Doubt — which most certainly is not a weblog.
Doubting Thomas doesn’t do weblogs — though he has written a disquisition on the “blogger.”
Anyway, here’t goes:
so last night i had this really really fantastic rotisserie-style chicken, but from an authentic mexican food place near where i live called loco pollo (which i think means crazy game of horse and mallet, which the mexicans play underwater and with their eyes shut) — not from one of those rotisserie chicken chains like, say, boston chicken, which isn’t authentic mexican, obviously, and isn’t even authentic boston, so far as i know. i mean, we’re in denver, the chicken’s in denver… why not be exact? do chickens really have a geopolitical ontology? is a boston chicken — a chicken shipped 2000 miles to colorado — likely to be any more tasty than a local spit-roasted chicken? hell NO, i say…
but anyways, the quartered chicken (you can order light OR dark, so i ordered light and my wife ordered dark and we kind of shared) comes with refried beans — which were clearly made with lovely lard, yummmmm! — seasoned rice, a half-dozen or so soft tortillas, and a bevy of sauces (three, to be exact — which I’m not sure makes a bevy, but you get the picture). one of the “sauces” was a relish of cold pickled red onions, chopped (too vinegary for my tastes, but the mexicans sure must dig it!). then there were two pepper sauces, one red (with a bit of the habenero flair, but otherwise not too brutal), one green. both of these sauces were delicious — i don’t want to offend red sauce lovers who might be reading this — but the green chile sauce was the spiciest and most flavorful thing i’ve ever eaten (and was absolutely delicious on the chicken, which i shredded with my fork and wrapped in a tortilla)!
all of which is a long and roundabout way of posing a question: is it possible, do you think, that such a delicious green chile sauce could actually be eating away at my stomach lining? like, physically? i mean, is it possible for a food to eat away at the digestive tract of its host? cause man, am i ever in gastro-intestinal pain this morning…!
(my wife, who doesn’t like spicy things — boy, is she missing out! — was spared this abdominal hellishness. nevertheless, we’re out of creamer, so she’s making me stop writing this post haste so that i can run up to 7-11 to buy some creamer — we both like the flavored kind, though 7-11 doesn’t carry the fat-free stuff we normally drink, so we’ll have to make due — even though i haven’t yet showered.
and even though my stomach hurts.
oh! and don’t forget to set your clocks forward! i forgot, and now i’m like totally behind schedule! having to run out right now to get the creamer won’t help matters, either…)
It’s scary how well you do that…
Myria
At least he’s not a fan of that Mumia guy. Gotta see the silver lining, ya know.
I’m not so sure about that, Andrea. He refers to Mumia as “the alleged cop-killer from Philly currently on death row”. Now I’m no legal expert, but it seems to me that by the time one makes it to death row one is no longer an “alleged” cop-killer, one is a convicted cop-killer.
His problem seems to be with the other dweebs who went to the rally. They weren’t nice to him – boo-hoo – and they left leaflets all over the place.
Myria
I cannot believe that your 7/11 doesn’t have fat-free creamer! Denver is indeed a primitive place. I suggest an anti-globilization ski-in at the nearest ski slope. Hurry, before the genetically modified hot sauce gives you ebola, or at least foot-in mouth disease. Whoops, it my be too late for that…..
Get well soon, you punny poetic pundit prankster!
re: Mumia—whoops, I missed that “alleged.” Oh well, back to “if an authority is involved, invoke Doubt.” So much for my silver lining.
The reason I wrote this? I just wanted to be like Jenn. I’ve always only wanted to be like Jenn.
And today, I got to <i>be</i> Jenn.
To be Jenn.
And Martin—my 7-11 might not have non-fat creamer, but I can buy like 40 varieties of illegal narcotic on the side of the building, right by the air dispenser.
That’s gotta offset the creamer thing, eh?
Now, now, Jeff.
Doubting Thomas has, I think, independently come up with the “linker/thinker” dichotomy, although he doesn’t call it that (in fact, I was just waiting for his current essay to “age off” the main page and acquire a permanent link before I wrote an article on that). GMTA.
As for the kind of blog (a “sinker”, as in “i had this k00l donut fer breakfast”?) that he holds in contempt…well, there ARE more than a few of them out there. If you have a low tolerance for mindless blather, take my word for it; otherwise, I can provide you with URLs.
I know, John. I really <i>did</i> just want to be Jenn today. Take some of the pressure off.
DT can write whatever he wants, and I hope I got some people to check out his site…
Jeff–
More or less, in your “irony without the irony,” you have almost captured it. However, the ee cummings style also requires you to shape the prose into a cute figure.
Will the Jenns of the world unite to flame my dour and mean-spirited post?
PS–I didn’t even know there was a term “weblog” or “blog” until about two weeks ago. Silly me, I thought they were called “web pages.”
After reading a few of the comments in here, I am glad I am not part of the “blogger” crowd. In my comments I try very hard not to drag anyone specifically (except poor Jenn and all public figures) into the criticism. You blogger types seem to relish the public flaying of each other’s hides. Not that I am thin-skinned–but I just consider that kind of gauche and creepy. Like you, dear Jeff.
Ah, above the fray, are we Thomas? It was the whole “being Jenn” thing that creeped you out, wasn’t it?
Yeah. I even creeped myself out with that one…
But “gauche”…? Do people still use that word?
…might be time to get a TV.
OK…the ad hominem attack was pretty gauche on my part, Jeff. Sorry. I must not be too “above” it, LOL.
Naw, instead of watching tv I’ll just hang out with you, the saucy tart Myria from above (the bottom line was that there we no cute women at the Mumia rally, and THAT really peeved me the most; I mean, enviro hippie chicks should shower and shave their pits, ewwww!), Fonzie, Snoopy, and all the cool people in the “blog” world. We can all go down to the malt shop and trade clever repartee like Dorothy Parker and the Algonquin Round Table. We’ll snap our fingers to some cool jazz and cast votes for the clever blogging jackass of the week.
Cool!
Is it okay to nominate myself? Or is that (sorry, too easy) <i>gauche</i>…?
The weird thing is, I can’t hear Dorothy Parker’s name anymore without thinking about Jennifer Jason Leigh. Similarly, I can’t hear Gandhi mentioned without thinking of Ben Kingsley.
Can’t decide if these are good things or bad things (though in Leigh’s case, I’m leaning toward “good thing”)…
It’s all your fault, Jeff: I am now officially a blogger. Thanks for teaching me the secret word and handshake. I feel empowered, a master of the universe, a king among kings… but I still cannot write worth a damn.
When I hear “Jennifer Jason Leigh,” I imediately try to find a quiet and isolated place where I can, you know, get that “special” feeling.
Ooh! Ooh! <a href=”http://jenns_musings.blogspot.com/”>Here’s Jenn!</a>
OK, nowhere <i>near</i> as illiterate as your parody, Jeff. Still, the coincidence…
(I wonder about a new webring: JennBlogs.)
Aaahhhrgh. It burns. It burrrrrnnns!
Thanks, John…I had just finished eating when I clicked on your link to the “real” Jenn blog…now I am having great difficulty holding down those six Tio Pedro microwave burritos.
PS–Do you know what’s really sick? I seem to be powerfully attracted to the Jennblog type of gal. God, I need help!
You do an impression of <a href=”http://www.mcsweetie.com/”>this site</a> which is so scary it hurts.
Jeff, that was too funny.
I have nothing against “web diaries” (although I cannot understand the need for them), but some of the blather on the web these days is just too much.
d–HOW did you find that site? Why did you feel the need to inflict it upon us? I’ll need therapy…