Sunday, May 29, 2011

Popcorn, the Almighty Wizard!

I'm almost 100% sure popcorn is magic.

For one, it is one of the best smelling foods on the planet. It has the power to cause jealousy and hunger pains to all of the workplace (especially at Kingland because that place is a hallowed out movie theater where popcorn just reigns supreme).

But I also think popcorn can turn to Dark Magic. The smell of burnt popcorn is one of the most foul scents on earth, and it will haunt "the scene of the crime" for a good week as revenge. The worst part is the shame of it all. I accidentally burnt popcorn at Wells Fargo (because their microwaves are industrial and bitch-nasty) and I became known as the popcorn-guy for the next 3 days. Popcorn had unleashed its fury upon me, and I was lunch-less and ashamed.

But it's not just the scents of popcorn that lead me to believe in its powers. Popcorn also has the power of hypnosis. Whether microwave, Jiffy pop on the stove, or an Air popper, I become mesmerized with watching the popcorn pop. Maybe it's because I want to ensure I don't burn it, but there's something to the fact that I enjoy watching the kernels pop into fluffy misshapen morsels that will soon be in or around my mouth.

Popcorn's hypnotizing powers have quite the effect on microwave companies as well. Every microwave I have ever used has had a popcorn button. Popcorn has thrown its hat into the ring of contenders of microwave buttons, and has come out on top with "Defrost" "Reheat" and "Clock". Let's see TV Dinners try that one!
Popcorn also gives me survival. There was a sad, tragic time in my life (about 2 months ago) when all I had in my bank account was $15 and all I had in my stomach was a grumble. I bought a large box of microwave popcorn (in my head I was like "awesome, vegetables!" and in my heart I was like "this is going to be so unhealthy") and ate that for a full 2 weeks. Not only did it sustain me, but I was still able to exercise without fainting from malnutrition! Thank you popcorn, for all the energy required to function.

Also, it tastes good.

Saturday, May 14, 2011

Warning: A lot of poop humor.

Today I was presenting myself with a hypothetical situation, like I often do when I'm bored. This hypothetical I posed was asking what time period I would most like to live in. I first picked the future. I can't get enough stimulation in today's society, and I literally am waiting with bated breath for the eventual Apple product that I can just LIVE IN for the rest of my life.

But then I thought, “What if the future and present aren’t allowed in this hypothetical?” So I picked the time period I would be semi-happy in: The Middle Ages.

Don’t get me wrong, the Middle Ages suuuucked, and usually when someone mentions this time period, all I can think about is the layers of excrement everyone was living in. They literally lived in shit. They threw it out their windows into streets. So. Much. Poop.

In fact, here’s what I imagine a street conversation back then would be like:


As you can see, the life expectancy wasn’t supes high, and I would probably have already died. Though I also need to admit that I have no idea how people talked in the Middle Ages, so you just got my best guess. I also made an Oregon Trail reference. Hope you enjoyed it.

So why would I want to live back then? Three words: Middle Ages diet. The food.

Here’s a little Rob trivia: If I could only have 2 foods of multiple varieties (like apple variations such as red delicious or granny smith) they would be bread and cheese. Cheese and Bread! I love me some cheese and bread.

So the middle ages have lots of cheese and bread. Big deal, right? Why wouldn’t I pick the 60s, with all the modern day drugs, bread, meth, and cheese I could want?? Because of this extra bit of knowledge I will lay down on you:

It was considered very attractive to be pale and fat. It signified great wealth and honor when you didn’t bear the markings of a commonplace farmer (tan and thin).

So this is why my choice is Middle Ages. I would sit in a dark room filled with Breads and Cheeses, maybe some terrible tasting wine. I would engorge myself. I would get laid often for this lifestyle. I will have a single window in this room to toss my excrement into the street. Life will be grand.

Monday, May 9, 2011

PE Sucked

Well, I'm going to write about something now that most people seem to be reluctant to hear about in every day conversation. I used to be fat. Borderline obese on the BMI scale.

It sucks being fat. No denying that. I guess that's why I fight so hard to stay thin now. I've relapsed once in college, and gained weight during my sophomore year. I lost it again. But this story isn't about the relapse.

After my junior year in high school, my friend Sarah and I started the R'n'S exercise program, consisting of the first letters of both our names, and jogging at the track every summer morning. We actually had a lot of fun/hated it. I ended up running all the electrolytes out of my body a few times before we found out that gatorade is actually helpful for athletes. LEARNING! I also experimented with different types of music to see what kept me going farther/faster. I settled on the Christian punk-rock/pop sensation Relient K. And though I'm no longer religious, it still feels nostalgic to run to that album. By the end of the summer, I had dropped from 220 to 165 pounds, and had run a couple 5 Ks.

When I returned to school my senior year, I got complimented by a lot of people, and felt great. All except for my PE teacher, who swelled with pride at the sight of me. I was actually touched. Mr. Whisner isn't exactly the most touching man in the world, and I felt like I had done something really astounding when he seemed so impressed. But when I went to class, I found out something else.

Whisner: "Hey Barger, you're looking GREAT! What have you been up to?"

Me: "Oh, I've been running every day, just getting in shape n junk"

Whisner: "So I've finally convinced you, eh?"

Me: "What was that?"

Whisner: "BARGER, this is Physical Education! I'm the teacher, so I've obviously EDUCATED YOU ABOUT PHYSICAL ACTIVITY."

I couldn't believe it. Starting an exercise regimen on your own and sticking to it, along with a strict diet, heavily reseached by me, and Whisner thought he had done some monumental effort in my weight loss. I let it drop. But Whisner is a dick.

Anyway, this little story just means that I'm starting my summer exercise! I had to take last year off because of my broken hip. (a story for another time, or maybe a simple update on this blog later).

Sunday, May 8, 2011


I cleaned my apartment this morning. And by that I mean I took out the garbage and stacked the dishes by the sink, because there are at least 3 loads to do, and it was already full. Our house literally smelled like garbage, and we had a friend come over who exclaimed something of that nature.

So I managed to bring down the terror alert level in my apartment from a 5 to a 3.

I'm glad I have roommates that are able to thrive in this type of environment too, but I feel like we need at least one of us to keep our shit together. Instead we allow these things to pile up until one of us cracks and cleans. It's usually me, and I'm not complaining by any means. I don't mind cleaning. I just don't do it often.

It's sort of funny when one of us does clean though. The others sense a change in the force, and the guilt creeps in.

"Heyyyy do you want help?" -those just sitting around

"No, it's fine! I want to."-cleaner
Cue the guilt trip until the cleaning party stops their sad charade.

What's even worse though is when we have legitimate human beings visit us in our household. My best example is Any Person In Erin's Family. They visit maybe once every 2 months and just have looks of utter despair and terror on their face.

So Sharon immediately takes it upon herself to clean the apartment while the three of us beg her to stop. Being fully shamed by another person doing a favor is never a good feeling. The thing about the Greers is, they have their shit together. And they drink wine with us.