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Things that Went Down at the Grocery Store

By steve On October 1, 2002 In Getting Out of the House With Comments Off Permanent Link to Things that Went Down at the Grocery Store

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TJ and I went to the grocery store today. Some highlights:

- TJ and I were talking to a chum that we ran into when TJ starts to laugh uncontrollably. I look around and see a woman, probably in her late fifties, lying on the ground. Ah, the irony…she was holding a huge box (24 pack) of beer. Oh man…TJ would not stop laughing. He kept saying, “She just fell over and she had a BIG BOX OF BOOZE!!!”

- I bought cereal. Greg and TJ have been sitting around for days eating cereal…it’s like some crazy addiction for them. TJ even bought a custom bowl for cereal eating. I finally gave into the craze and bought Golden Grahams, Frosted Flakes, and some fat free milk. We now have 4 jugs of milk in the fridge…the top shelf will buckle any day. The only problem: I can’t stop eating cereal. My whole life, cereal has been the one thing that I have absolutely no control over. I realize now that, once my current supply is expended, I can never purchase the sweet, sweet delights again. I can’t be trusted with the fruits of General Mills, Post, and Kellogg’s, lest I return to my previous condition as a very fat man.

- I bought creamer. I bought a lot of creamer. My coffee addiction has gotten out of hand. I now wholly depend on the legal stimulant to get through my days. Yesterday I had four cups. What’s becoming of me? Soon I will be more coffee than man (or maybe more creamer than man…I think my joe consists primarily of creamer).

Now a song about the grocery store (sung to the tune of the Spider Man theme):

Grocery store, grocery store
Head to Safeway when life’s a bore
Get some cream, for the joe
Crap, express lane’s movin’ slow
Laugh hard! Some drunk chick just fell down!

Haji Baba’s Strikes

By steve On August 27, 2002 In Getting Out of the House With Comments Off Permanent Link to Haji Baba’s Strikes

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I feel sick, but content. Allow me explain.

Tonight I dined at perhaps my favorite restaurant in Tempe…the fine purveyor of all dishes Middle Eastern. Greg, TJ, and I all got the usual: chicken shawarma with basmati rice, hummus, baba ganouj, and pita bread on the side. It’s a lot of eating and we always end up feeling sick afterwards. I never regret it.

Today I made a couple additional purposes. The first I bought for the simple reason that I wanted to put the package up on chimpsahoy. For a mere thirty cents I got this delightful candy. You’d think by looking at the wrapper that the candy would be like a roller coaster of delights for the palette, right? Well that’s what I thought. It actually tastes like this. In other words, it tastes like this. Nasty, vile, filth of the candy world. I don’t know what was worse…the flavor of the bananko or the disillusionment at finding out the holy grail of candies is nothing but a load of trash.

The second purchase was much cooler. Here’s a picture of it, for all you curious little whelps. Yeah, I know, nothing fancy, but I have to support my local Haji Baba. I just hope the Arabic word isn’t profane or something; hopefully it’s not the word locals use to describe bananko crap candies. If the word turns out to be bad, it’s not a big deal because I can always turn the shirt inside out and enter a wet t-shirt contest…it’s pretty see-through.

I’m Tired and I Want My Mommy

By steve On August 24, 2002 In Getting Out of the House With Comments Off Permanent Link to I’m Tired and I Want My Mommy

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Well, apologies for no entry at the wee hours of the morning when I normally post. I had some extenuating circumstances that prevented the normal high quality entertainment from being created last night.

Let’s begin at the beginning, where all good, traditional, linear narratives begin. Friday evening began with a social transgression. I told a professional (and presumably homosexual) hairstylist that my mom cuts my hair and that I don’t like women’s fashion unless it is being put to good use on a girl in front of me. I think I offended every possible sensibility the man had. Nice guy, but when I suggested that the result of inhaling his favorite hair product was akin to side effects of sniffing glue, I think I pushed him over the edge.

Some may wonder how I got to a trendy hair salon on Mill on a Friday evening and I would be inclined to tell them it’s none of their business, but I feel at this juncture that revealing more serves the story. I went with Greg to pick up his cousin who was getting her hair done and who we were to hang out with that night. You see, “Dani” as we’ll call her, is going away to Seattle for college in a few weeks and we had to have a last hangout time with everyone.

A bunch of people got together at the apartment…more people than we’ve had over ever before. We went to Rally’s for yum, Cafe Boba for, well, what else but boba, and other parts of Mill for general amusement. Mill again, you say? Mill indeed. I never claimed to be original, alright.

Here are some excerpts from the evening, some true, some false. See if you can discern which is which (answers can be had by clicking more at the end of the post).

a) Everyone is shocked/entertained by out of control Brazilian hoochie dancers

b) One of my roomates has an embarrassing mishap with the public toilets in Tempe beach park that involves a lack of toilet paper and bowel control.

c) Sixty percent of people are dissatisfied with their Cafe Boba experience.

d) A smooth, hulking African-American man seeks wisdom and understanding from our group regarding current bad standing with his girlfriend due to excessive consumption of alcohol and weed.

e) Kara gets Steve a complimentary cup of water from Coffee Plantation.

f) At the apartment, Steve goes insane from having to watch the Moonites episode of Aqua Teen Hunger Force for the umpteenth time and shuts his head in the refrigerator door repeatedly.

g) Lindsay unintentionally pilfers Candi’s keys and Steve, being a kindhearted friend drives Candi not only to her apartment on the other side of town, but also back to Tempe the next morning at 8 to get her car, causing Steve to be tired and want his mommy.

Thanks for playing the fun true/false game…now see how you did.
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Keep on Rockin’ on Mill Ave.

By steve On August 23, 2002 In Apt 235, Getting Out of the House With Comments Off Permanent Link to Keep on Rockin’ on Mill Ave.

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Tonight marked another trip walking down to Mill Ave. with Teej and Greg. It’s getting to sound like a broken record on this blog…every day, another trip down to Mill. Fortunately things change up enough down there that’s it’s like a new experience every time.

Tonight was amateur open mike night outside a coffee shop on the north end of Mill. Of course we couldn’t get coffee from there…we had to partake again of the sweet ambrosia that is boba. Anyway, it’s open mike night:

There are certain things I noticed about amateur musicians after I sat there a while. It’s weird, because here you have average people who shyly (most of the time) walk up to the front of the crowd to perform. They’re just like us…average people in every way (again, this is a generalization). Then, when they sit down, situate their guitar or other instrument of choice, and start playing, it’s like they change. They have authority and even on some occasions, an air of dignity and nobility. The musician doesn’t even have to be particularly talented; there’s just something about them being up there with everyone listening and them playing songs they wrote. I buy it and it’s a really cool experience…

The first performer I saw was an unassuming young guy wearing a Cheers shirt and a backwards baseball cap. He sat down, mumbled some disclaimers about how his songs weren’t done and justifications for shortcomings he perceived in his own music and then he just tore into some really cool songs. He had a good voice and on his last song, I was really impressed with his guitar technique. I’m no expert, but he struck me as being very talented.

The next guy up looked like a genetic hybrid of David Crosby and Ron Jeremy. I was skeptical, but then he started playing some bittersweet songs that I was sucked into because he seemed like the kind of authentic guy who’s been around and seen some things. He was definitely cool.

I also liked the third act, which was a couple of guys who seemed like they were more baked than the pot pie Greg made last week. They sang some sort of R&B stuff, which at some points crossed completely into improvisation. Some girls walk by, the lead singer guy would throw in some lyrics like, “Hey baby, you in the tank top shirt, shake it for papa, yadda yadda yadda”. Although entertaining, they were the beginning of the end of my theory that when people take the stage they have a sense of dignity and authority.

The next person up was a no-talent woman singing acapella. Her first song was nothing special, but her second song transgressed many unspoken rules of open mike nights and I couldn’t help but feel violated afterwards. She sang a horrid, bloody-ear inducing rendition of Roberta Flack’s “Killing Me Softly with His Song”. The point where the performance transitioned from “this lady is not very good” to “I want to cry, someone please kill me” was when she hit the part of the song that goes, “Killing me softly with his song–ee–ong–ee–ongeeongeeong” and her voice cracked repeatedly from years of smoking unfiltered Luckies. She got off the stage…

…and an overweight, middle-aged man took the stage to cover Nickelback songs. My theory was shattered, but I laughed heartily and all was good.

I’ll be back next week.

Me Likey Boba or How Fish Eggs in My Drink Make Me Happy

By steve On August 16, 2002 In Chimps Entries, Getting Out of the House With Comments Off Permanent Link to Me Likey Boba or How Fish Eggs in My Drink Make Me Happy

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Tonight Cori, Lindsay, Greg, and I went down to fantastic Mill Ave. for fun and festivities. Actually, that seems like the place to be when you can’t think of anything else to do.

“Whatcha wanna do, guys?”

“I dunno, but I’m tired of watching Steve play Warcraft 3 while scratching himself”

“We better go down to Mill for some overpriced trendy drinks”

Actually, it was pretty cool. It’s always good times hanging out with the Cori/Lindsay/Greg crew and instead of driving down there, we walked the whole way. Somehow we managed to avoid the slew of hobos and transients who populate our ghetto apartment neighborhood. I thought I might have to get rough and shiv some guys to save the girls, but all was calm. Blast…yet another missed opportunity at chivalry.

Anyway, once we got to Mill, I decided to try this drink TJ recommended to me a while back called boba tea. Let me just say, it was quite an experience. Ok, maybe not, but relative to the things I encounter in my daily life, it was pretty crazy. It’s this iced milk tea similar in consistency to a mindfreezer from Coffee Plantation. The funtime bonus comes when you see the fat straw (at least three times the diameter of a normal drinking straw). It looks something like the proboscis an alien out of Starship Troopers would use to suck the brains out of unsuspecting humans. I took my first drink and HOLY SNIKES!…there’s fish eggs in my mouth. I played it down so everyone else would take a sip. Mmmm…dine on the raw fish eggs, my friends…soon you will be mine.

Alright, I spiced that story up a little more than it should be. The “fish eggs” were little chunks of tapioca, but it was more exciting to envision myself as pacman munching on those little niblets.

Halfway through the drink I think, “Boba tea is the finest drink known to man”. Two thirds of the way through the drink: “Boba tea is cool, but I should have gotten a flavor other than green tea”. End of the drink: “Boba tea bites…must steal some of Cori’s mocha mindfreezer”.

Let’s finish this entry off with a lofty and intellectually stimulating query: What will boba chunks look like after I digest them? Much like knowing how many licks to the center of a tootsie roll tootsie pop…the world may never know.

Sidenote–we didn’t run into the maintenance man while Greg and I were hanging out with girls…rats!