1. image: Download

    "Day ~500*: An Argument for Preservatives"
(or, “Day 500: An Argument Against Preservatives”)
Either way. 
*cf. 1 (wrong color for a heart),       2 (champions of breakfast),       3 (D144).

    "Day ~500*: An Argument for Preservatives"

    (or, “Day 500: An Argument Against Preservatives”)

    Either way. 


    *cf. 1 (wrong color for a heart),
          2 (champions of breakfast),
          3 (D144).

     
  2. (Ohman, I’d almost forgotten about this!)

    In Germany — and this particular bakery was, appropriately enough, in Mannheim — they maybe forgo the idea of blog-to-book deals for pod-to-bake deals.  Of all comfortable enough notions turned establishments that I’ve walked into, this was easily the best smelling.

    AND, since there was a bread slicing machine by the door, one could easily draw direct comparisons to sliced bread.  (You can parse slightly more accurately when I was there by nearby cross-timeline action.) I sat by it for about a half hour and missed a train waiting for someone to buy and slice a loaf.  And, just before I hit the level of disappointed acceptance that would make me give up on the hope of seeing it in action, someone did and it was pretty special.  And then I caught the next train.  Flexibility as regards a plan is probably one of the easiest traits to cultivate toward enabling the enjoyment tiny weirdly magical moments.  Anyhow: freshly sliced bread; I can see how it would be a sort of standard best thing, even if brotschneiden ist kinderleicht!

    (I did not buy bread.  I could have just bought and auto-sliced a loaf, but it felt like it would have been a weirdly fraudulent thing to do, like going to the zoo INSTEAD OF hunting down kangaroos in the wild (, although I am historically okay with doing both).  I did buy a Coke Light (which is what Europe calls a Diet Coke) and 2 pairs of fingerless gloves from the place across the way. They were a gambit and, while I wouldn’t say I regret nothing, they are pretty cute and enable me to roll up my sleeves AND maintain dexterity WITHOUT exposing my forearms.  Which would seem simultaneously like both my most American of semi-conscious mannerisms and maybe my most un-American of weird subculturally ingrained hang-ups.)

     
  3. Likely because of the subconscious association with the impending duty of spreading word of national technological hegemony overseas, I woke up with "The Spirit of America" stuck in my head today.

    A song I heard a couple times, (it was a relatively long parade that came around a couple times, I think, over the course of the day) though all pretty much in that one day. In 1988, on a magical family adventure in Orlando.

    (If memory serves—and maybe it’s an international family thing—we enjoyed EPCOT; I think in the weird pseudohome/comforting way that the Egyptian exhibit at the local children’s museum is like a statistical average of every Arabic speaking house’s living room I played in as a kid. We also rode the Star Tours thing like 8 times. Maybe in a hopeful pseudofuturehome way. We all do like robots.)

    It’s been here all day. Brains are weird.

    [Off to Deutschland. If I somehow end up traumatically pooped on, I will probably not tell y’all; even if you sense my shame and ask about it; and particularly if I like it (eep! I think the likelihood on that would be super-spectacularly low, but entertaining even improbable notions is an important exercise.) If anything else happens: standard travel rules apply.) Don’t bother breaking into my apartment. I still mostly have cardboard box furniture and there are dudes here, guarding the place (and fixing the ceiling, hopefully).]

     
  4. image: Download

    Despite never eating there, this was by far my favorite establishment in the Belgian town we stayed in.  
(Time delayed photodump.)

    Despite never eating there, this was by far my favorite establishment in the Belgian town we stayed in. 

    (Time delayed photodump.)

     
  5. Inadvertently made eye-contact with the giant dead eyes of the Subway® anthropomorphic sandwich monster.  If pop-cultural memory serves, I believe I now have 7 days to consume (and flush) one foot of sandwich or else I may die.  (One may have the option of pushing one sandwich monster into a well, but that seems like it would be trickier and maybe a worse end if I am wrong.)

    I think this is doable, but everyone always seems to think that at the beginning of the film.  Anyhow, if anything happens, take care!

     
  6. American Sign Language: “pizza”

    Opinions on the best sign for PIZZA are as varied as opinions on who makes the best pizza in town and what toppings are the most delicious. The fact is there are several popular variations for this sign.

    …also, the most delicious topping is anchovies. Even adolescent turtles who lived in sewers* would have told you that, despite the fact that in graphical and toyetic renderings of their tales, covering a large pie in reddish disks was clearly easier to do.

    C’mon, don’t be dumb.
    (^^ Ohman ^^ new worst moment. I can consign myself: 4 days, dungeon.)

    Here is an indication of how off I have been.

    *Here’s me utilizing the archive: I haven’t had pizza since March 8.

    (Editorial note regarding the pizza consumed March 8th: It was SUPER gross.  Mostly because of the cheese, the avocado I may have scraped off and eaten on its own: that part was pretty tasty.  Food blarrg.)

     
  7. Fudge John Hodgman
While it is sometimes a relief to have an idea out of one’s head, there is often a price to pay. And that price is the three (3) dollars of fudge that were consumed in getting this onto the back of a napkin.
(All comments on projects like this can be accompanied by an implicit “so…how’re the pending manuscript edits coming?” and I’d settle into a gentle sadness.)

    Fudge John Hodgman

    While it is sometimes a relief to have an idea out of one’s head, there is often a price to pay. And that price is the three (3) dollars of fudge that were consumed in getting this onto the back of a napkin.

    (All comments on projects like this can be accompanied by an implicit “so…how’re the pending manuscript edits coming?” and I’d settle into a gentle sadness.)

     
  8. Plays: 9

    Primary digital image/everything capture/offboard brain device stolen (along with a CC and the out of state ID on which I looked not terrible.)

    C- for behavior, universe! 

    This is the sound of 3 antacids rattling around a container, which was, ironically, one of the last audio files to sync to Tatertot TetraPrime.  They’ve long since been eaten.  One might extrapolate my general “being an anxious person” as meaning that in a crisis (or even a pseudo-crisis) I’d be a super mess, but much like my constant anti-seasonal temperature training makes me ready to wear a t-shirt in Winter or a sweater in the Summer, constant casual anxiety lends itself to relative calm during a reasonable time for agita.  BUT, tonight’s marveladora is consequently offline.  *sad trombone*  I shall right the ship with due alacrity.

    (yeah, all computers acquired in the last 15 years have been named after tatertots. Because they’re delicious.)

     
  9. image: Download

    There is a kind of person who would tail a gyro truck for 51 (Fifty-One!) blocks in order to find out a source for non-mobile shawarmanimals, only to get caught at a red light, lose the scent, and just turn around and go back to work. She’ll dwell on her actions for much of an afternoon, wondering if she’s lost her edge AND wondering if there is a slippery slope to “are these the actions of a man who had *all* he could eat?”.  Maybe. 

Also: did the truck also sell pez?  Bizarre.

    There is a kind of person who would tail a gyro truck for 51 (Fifty-One!) blocks in order to find out a source for non-mobile shawarmanimals, only to get caught at a red light, lose the scent, and just turn around and go back to work. She’ll dwell on her actions for much of an afternoon, wondering if she’s lost her edge AND wondering if there is a slippery slope to “are these the actions of a man who had *all* he could eat?”. Maybe.

    Also: did the truck also sell pez? Bizarre.

     
  10. image: Download

    ~ ♪♪♫ ♪♪♫ ♪♫♪♪♫ ~Oh, there’s a lot of opportunities if you know when to take them, you know?There’s a lot of opportunities: If there aren’t, you can make them—Make or break them…~ ♪♪♫ ♪♪♫ ♪♫♪♪♫ ~

(While I can muster brawn, it’s always been clear that I would more than likely endeavor to outsource looks.)

    ~ ♪♪♫ ♪♪♫ ♪♪♪♫ ~
    Oh, there’s a lot of opportunities if you know when to take them, you know?

    There’s a lot of opportunities: If there aren’t, you can make them—
    Make or break them…
    ~ ♪♪♫ ♪♪♫ ♪♪♪♫ ~

    (While I can muster brawn, it’s always been clear that I would more than likely endeavor to outsource looks.)

     
  11. image: Download

    A Pizza for CMC
While that quip about my parents emphasizing knife skills over social skills is kind of apocryphal, I was formally given lessons on how to decorate cakes starting at age 4. 
(This is a DIY-pizza from the Dollar Tree, but it is pretty clear that I’ve retained almost NOTHING in regards to formal piping; don’t tell my mom about the latter, don’t tell my dad about the former: these are disappointments they need not bear. The avocado was purchased in a grocery store situation like a grown up, he’d be okay with that.  And I thought about my meal before I ate it, she’d be okay with that.  In fact,)
I had been thinking about it earlier in the day yesterday as I have here in marginalia:

[Glyph of a painting]: (L,M),D,R
[Glyph of a turtle]: (D,L),M,R

because rankings are sometimes interesting to assess.  Raphael was kind of boring as both an artist and a ninja and I almost always have problems picking favorites.  Michaelangelo does not hit my turtle top two, but he has a more cheese friendly palette for my cheese friendly palate.

    A Pizza for CMC

    While that quip about my parents emphasizing knife skills over social skills is kind of apocryphal, I was formally given lessons on how to decorate cakes starting at age 4. 

    (This is a DIY-pizza from the Dollar Tree, but it is pretty clear that I’ve retained almost NOTHING in regards to formal piping; don’t tell my mom about the latter, don’t tell my dad about the former: these are disappointments they need not bear. The avocado was purchased in a grocery store situation like a grown up, he’d be okay with that.  And I thought about my meal before I ate it, she’d be okay with that.  In fact,)

    I had been thinking about it earlier in the day yesterday as I have here in marginalia:

    [Glyph of a painting]: (L,M),D,R

    [Glyph of a turtle]: (D,L),M,R

    because rankings are sometimes interesting to assess.  Raphael was kind of boring as both an artist and a ninja and I almost always have problems picking favorites.  Michaelangelo does not hit my turtle top two, but he has a more cheese friendly palette for my cheese friendly palate.

     
  12. Day 144: The Champions of Breakfast Triptych Endures.
    I can make both the pro- and anti- preservative arguments.

     
  13. image: Download

    There are some who might call me “The St. Jude* of the Produce Section”. And I would say,

“My magnanimous adoption of desperately weird looking potatoes, and constant toting of scrolls and carpenter’s rules is no reason for veneration, you guys. You need not honor me: just…do good works.” 

It’s just about leading by quiet example, sometimes.  Sense of hominess and homeliness aside, I don’t identify with these vegetables, really. 
*I forget how it was organized, but I believe my only formal affiliation with St. Jude’s was the Math-a-thon fundraiser back in the…80s. And I didn’t do that because I was a particularly good little kid so much as the fact that I really enjoyed doing math. I still do, depending on the math.

    There are some who might call me “The St. Jude* of the Produce Section”. And I would say,

    “My magnanimous adoption of desperately weird looking potatoes, and constant toting of scrolls and carpenter’s rules is no reason for veneration, you guys. You need not honor me: just…do good works.”

    It’s just about leading by quiet example, sometimes.  Sense of hominess and homeliness aside, I don’t identify with these vegetables, really. 

    *I forget how it was organized, but I believe my only formal affiliation with St. Jude’s was the Math-a-thon fundraiser back in the…80s. And I didn’t do that because I was a particularly good little kid so much as the fact that I really enjoyed doing math. I still do, depending on the math.

     
  14. 20 varieties, covered in “want-more-ishness”.

    Originally voiced by TRUMAN CAPOTE. 
    Surely that is some manner of wikipedia shenanigans.

    [Jay Ward seems like he was pretty great.]

    That we don’t still hear about Jean LaFoote with regularity is distressing.

    Hobbies : DASTERDLY DEEDS
    Greatest adventures :

    • Trying to make my own Crunch;
    • Trying to get Crunch;
    • Eating Crunch

    (The resurgence of a nemesis relationship probably wouldn’t make me buy cereal because of a memory of cutting the top of my mouth with the corner of one of those beige sugar frosted bricks.  But that doesn’t mean it wouldn’t be entertaining.)

     
  15. image: Download

    Goldenberg Variations

The story begins in 1917 when the Goldenberg Candy Company developed Peanut Chews as rations for the U.S. military during World War I. The high protein content and winning taste combination of chocolate, peanuts, and molasses made it an instant hit with American troops. […the candy was first made available to civilians in 1921…]

(The middle variation was controversial and a retail failure.)

    Goldenberg Variations

    The story begins in 1917 when the Goldenberg Candy Company developed Peanut Chews as rations for the U.S. military during World War I. The high protein content and winning taste combination of chocolate, peanuts, and molasses made it an instant hit with American troops. […the candy was first made available to civilians in 1921]

    (The middle variation was controversial and a retail failure.)