The Poopypants Chronicles: MORE Stuff My &%!: Boyfriend Says

From the "Stuff My $*#@ Boyfriend Says" files...

"You know, if I ever retire - like to the country or something - I would make sure that my house had, like, CIA-level security. I would want to be able to SECURE THE PREMISES. There would be lasers - a perimeter fence - with censors! - everything!!!"

Unsolicited (entirely serious) declaration whilst the movie "Scream" rolled by on the TV. I feel safer already.

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"I probably would have had a 'Twinkie Log' if the line-up hadn't been so big - because it's a great idea - it's something I'd make at home if I had the space & ingredients - I could use the Slap Chop for the nuts. And, of course, I'd need sticks. Sticks are what most people are missing if they want to make Twinkie Logs at home - they can't just go out in to the forest and get sticks for their Twinkie Logs."

Random announcement made several hours after an afternoon spent at the CNE, where we (some of us more than others) pondered all the disgusting, deep-fried food available to visitors.

I'm not certain that this woman is truly dedicated to weight loss.

The other day, after work, I was at the library, checking out some books. Yes, I still go to the library, usually a couple of times/week - I love it there. It's like nirvana - wordvana -yeah, that's it!

Ahhhhh, books.

In the check-out line in front of me stood a rather portly/out-of-shape woman checking out two books:

Somehow, I suspect she isn't 100% dedicated to achieving fitness. Best of luck to her.

The Poopypants Chronicles: Mmmmmmm Cookies - Part II

Tonight, Poop baked up another batch of delectable Pillsbury cookies.

He just walked in to the living room, with a handful of sweet-smelling, chocolate chippity goodness and mumbled, "I suspect the recommended serving of cookies is less than 8...oh well..."

He then declared, with supreme confidence, "But that's the great thing about being an adult - being able to eat as many cookies as you want, any time you want!"

And that shiny pearl of wisdom was brought to you by Poopypants, Pillsbury & potent potables!

You're welcome!

Tom's Dairy Freeze (aka What I Did This Summer)

Remember the first week of school, how they'd always make you write that stupid "What I Did This Summer" essay and share it with the class?

e.g. THIS SUMMER I PLAYED OUTSIDE AND WENT SWIMMING AND ATE POPSICLES AND KILLED ANTS WITH A MAGNIFYING GLASS AND MY MOM & DAD GOT DIVORCED SO I GOT 2 BIRTHDAY PARTIES AND I WISH I HAD A NEW BARBIE DOLL.

Actually, that sounds like a pretty fun summer!

Anyway, if I were to write one of those essays, come September 2010, it would go something like this:

THIS SUMMER I WENT ON SOME TRIPS AND THEY WERE FUN AND ALMOST EVERY NIGHT I ATE ICE CREAM FROM TOM'S DAIRY FREEZE WHERE THEY HAVE THE BEST ICE CREAM (AND ICE CREAM CONCOCKTIONS) IN THE WORLD.

Tom's Dairy Freeze is a place in my 'hood - mid-way between Park Lawn & Royal York on The Queensway - and I love it! I'm not the only one, either - online, there are tons of uniformly positive reviews of Tom's and at night, in the summer, there's always a huge line-up, right up 'til midnight (closing time).

Obviously, the quality of the product they serve is what keeps people coming back - the ice cream is unbelievable! (No offense, Dairy Queen, but Tom's treats are infinitely superior, at least in my opinion). They have everything you'd expect from an ice cream parlour - delectable soft serve (chocolate, vanilla or swirly, twirly combo!), choice of cones (waffle or regular), sundaes, banana splits - they even have a version of DQ's Blizzard - the Super Shake.

Actual conversation between Poop & the obviously disdainful (though less disgruntled than most teenaged food service workers) cashier:

Poop: What's a 'Super Shake'?

Cashier: Oh! It's, uh, sorta like a McFlurry or a Blizzard - only - obviously - way, WAY better!

I recently tried their 'Super Shake' - the Smarties variety - and it was awesome!

Note for my American readers: When I say "Smarties" I am referring to the colourful candy-shelled/chocolate-in-the-middle Canadian version - not the repulsive, uber-sweet, comes-in-a-roll U.S. version.

Contrary to their wholly reasonable prices, Tom's portion sizes are HUGE! If you are inspired to visit Tom's, after reading this glowing recommendation, be forewarned & repeat after me: ALWAYS ORDER SIZE SMALL. My Super Shake was a "Small" and it still lasted a week, in the freezer, serving as dessert for several nights in a row!

Tom's evokes nostalgia - it's like throw-back to a simpler time. It says right on its sign that it opened in 1969, which is entirely believable - it doesn't look like it's been renovated or updated at all in the time since - which is a good thing! Real retro! And it's not just the look of the building, it's the whole 'feel' of the place.

I fondly remember trips to the ice cream parlour with my dad, on summer evenings, when I was growing up; I usually had a small cone or a small sundae, except on special occasions, like the last day of school, when I was allowed to order anything I wanted (which often resulted in a tummy ache, but the memories are still fond).

Tom's is a "drive up" spot - no interior seating - you park, walk up to the window & get in line to place your order (don't worry, even though there's always a line, they are really fast!). Then, you can hop back in your car & take your treat home or you can have a seat at one of Tom's many picnic tables (which are almost always packed with smiling, ice-cream-filled people).

Tom's only takes cash. And you might be surprised by the scene that greets you - even though it's always busy, the many customers are happy, milling about, eating their ice cream - no petty arguments or nasty glares - just dairy-fueled joy!

Hey - I just had a thought - perhaps if everyone on the globe had access to ice cream like they serve at Tom's, we'd be able to achieve some semblance of world peace!! Unless all those stupid war-mongers are lactose-intolerant. Boo. Oh well. It was an idea.

Anyway - if you're in Toronto, I highly recommend Tom's Dairy Freeze!

P.S. Every single picture/image in this post was taken from the internet without the owner's permission. Think of it as an homage, rather than a theft.

The worst book I've read in a long time.

I am a voracious reader - as I'm sure I've mentioned, I usually have 3 books on-the-go and I alternate between them, depending on mood (and purse size) - usually a non-fiction selection (eg.biographies), a non-intellectually-taxing, story-driven book (see: Best Seller List, mysteries etc.) and a thinking book (important literature, replete with symbolism, inscrutable plotlines and pretentious, critical acclaim).

At the end of June, we did a road-trip through upstate New York and down to the Baltimore area to enjoy some concerts (Furthur in Rochester, Phish x 2 at Merriweather, Phish at CMAC) and visit with friends whom we get to see way too infrequently. We had a fantastic time, saw some electrifying concerts and enjoyed plenty of local delicacies. I had hoped to devote a blog to the wonder & craziness of that trip, but this post is related entirely to a book that I purchased, on a whim, on the trip home.

I've always been a big fan of mafia/mob stories - Godfather, Goodfellas, Sopranos etc. I am endlessly entertained by these tales - I can't NOT watch Goodfellas when it's on TV - the compulsion is almost other-worldly. I own the box set of The Sopranos - and I have no idea how many times I've watched each episode - I even watch it when it's on TV (which is ridiculous, with all the censorship - "Forget you, TV Censors!).

Anyway - I saw this book and I thought, "Hey, that sounds entertaining!"

As I'm sure you have guessed, I could not have been more wrong.

The book was called "Family Affair - Greed, Treachery and Betrayal in the Chicago Mob" by "Sam Giancana and Scott M. Burnstein" (see picture of book above).

What we can deduce from the differing font sizes of the authors' names, "Scott M. Burnstein" is the alleged 'writer' who was pulled in to help Mr. Giancana with his elocution skills. And if that's true, Mr. Burnstein should have his writing credentials revoked, because this book was horrendous.

Story-wise, it was unfollowable. They did a horrible job of introducing the characters (which is an important element in seducing a reader) and they kept jumping between eras in the narrative - which is often an effective literary technique - but since they'd given us virtually no time to get to know the characters, it was extremely confusing. 

Then there was the bad writing/editting factor. I've never seen a more poorly written/editted book. And I've read a lot of books. This book was replete with grammatical errors, spelling errors, malapropisms - it was awful!

There were innumerable mis-uses of the apostrophe - repeat after me: An apostrophe never makes it plural!

There were several instances where the verb & the noun did not agree.

More than one case where they simply used the wrong word - for example, "flairs" instead of "flares", "wracket" instead of "racket" and, my personal favourite, "rouges" where they intended to use "rogues".

I tried to follow the story, with great difficulty - about 1/4 of the way in, I realized that the book was unreadable - but, by then, I had become interested in seeing just how many mistakes I could find.

So I carried on - I think I made it about half-way through before I stopped torturing myself & gave up.

Needless to say, I wouldn't recommend it.

The Poopypants Chronicles: Mmmmmm Cookies!

We went grocery shopping last week and Poop was really excited because he had a coupon for a FREE Pillsbury product (and, as you know, he adores great deals - and there's no greater deal than 100% off!).

He chose some ready-to-bake chocolate chip cookie dough (though he somehow forgot/neglected to use the coupon - which just means that some time in the not-too-distant future he's going to be coming home from Sobey's with another package of cookie dough!)

These are not the same "ready-to-bake" cookies I remember from my childhood. You can't really tell from the picture, but, this is a relatively flat package and the dough is separated into squares, that you simply separate and drop on the pan and when baked, become nice, round cookies!

The other night, Poop had the munchies and decided it was time to bake the cookies.

He was so eager for his snack to be ready, he turned on the oven light and situated himself on the kitchen floor in front of the stove, cross-legged, to watch his cookies bake through the oven window - sorta like a TV show that emits a delicious,  chocolatey scent!

He couldn't stop babbling in amazement (semi-coherently) about the wonder of the cookies turning from squares into circles..."They were square - now they're circles - that one's still square! - That one's a circle!"

Long story short: The cookies were delicious.

Need to beat the heat? Enjoy an icy brew from time to time? This post's for YOU!

Those of you who mis-read the title and thought you were entering the "Need to Beat the Meat?" zone - please feel free to leave now - that's going to be tomorrow's entertainment.

Today, however, I have a treat for all of you out there who are sick & tired of sweating your collective asses off in this sauna of a summer and have dreams of a tall, cold one - on a stick! - to assuage those rivulets of perspiration, coursing down your glistening torsos...damn, where was I? Oh yeah - The Hopsicle!

(Note: The remainder of this post was pithily composed by the folks over at http://www.urbandaddy.com/ - reprinted without anyone's permission)

 The Hopsicle!

Take a can of beer.

Lift tab, tilt back, consume, repeat.

A well-worn formula, easily mastered. Yet in these dangerous times, we feel it may be necessary to unmaster it.

Warning: this involves a samurai sword.

Introducing The Hopsicle Experience, a frozen can of beer, sliced in half and served like a Push Pop for big kids, launching today at Diablo Royale Este.

Now, the thing about the hopsicle is that it looks like your standard can of Tecate: Red. Cylindrical. Icy cold. Except the barman-witchdoctors at Diablo have taken the “icy” bit quite literally, injecting the beer with simple syrup and lime juice, jamming a wooden stick into the hole of the can and then putting it in the freezer. For four days.

The result is a genuine beer popsicle, which the bartender must saw in half with a serrated steak knife (or samurai sword) to open. Then it’s up to you to push the wooden stick upward to dispense the hopsicle in true Push Pop style, and decide if you want your savory sweet frozen joyride bathed in tequila as well (note: you want this).

And on certain days, when those same barman-witchdoctors are feeling especially inspired, they may take their creation one step further and turn over an entire margarita machine to the conjuring of potent beer slushies.

No samurai sword required.

What'd I Ever Do to That Stupid Bee?!

The other night, after work, I was merrily walking down my street, greeting neighbours, petting dogs - I think I might have even been whistling - and, out of nowhere, I got stung by a bee, right through my pants!

Pretty disrespectful, on the part of the bee - it wasn't like I was frolicking through a flower garden or swinging a bat at his friggin' beehive, I was innocently walking down the sidewalk!!! Grrrrrr...I thought we had a deal?!

It's been a week now and I'm still a trifle nervous when I'm walking home. Who's kidding who here? For the first couple of days after this occurred, I must have looked like a seriously paranoid meth-freak, with my head whipping around every time I saw something - anything! - out of the corner of my eye. The BEES! THE BEES ARE COMING!! RUN! RUUUUUUUUUUUUUN!

Anyway - when it happened, it was a huge shock, I almost fell over, it hurt so much and it took me a minute or 2 to even figure out what had occurred (I guess adrenaline starts pumping through your body in response to the venom entering your system and, combined with the surprise & the pain, it left me feeling a little dazed).

I had to walk the rest of the way home with one pant leg hiked up to mid-thigh becase the pant brushing against the sting area was akin to repeatedly poking myself with one of those metal marshmellow roasting sticks that had been sitting in a fire for an hour.

It hurt & itched for several days - it's still somewhat itchy - but it's clear that I'm not allergic, since I didn't have one of those anaphylactic reactions & stop breathing. Yay!!

It was odd, though - the day after The Beecident, the actual "bite site" resembled little more than a mosquito bite - a small bump, almost no redness - it appeared to be healing nicely! However, the day after that, it had swollen into a monstrosity - 3 or 4 inches in diameter & swollen up from the leg signifcantly, red (almost purple) in colour. When I absentmindedly went to scratch the area, my hand glanced the gargantuan growth and it was so unexpected (and huge) that I actually jumped up off my chair! (How much do I love hyperbole? Love x infinity!!)

 It's much better now, but you can still see remnants of the protruberance on my leg - a rude reminder.

I'm still bitter- stupid bee. This isn't over.

Beware of bees! (see picture)

P.S. (A week after the beecident) I spotted this mockery in a storefront on my way home from work - clearly put there at the behest of the IBC (International Bee Coalition) to further frighten me. I bet bees fly out of these Backpacks of Evil as soon as you unzip them. Nefarious backpack bees! Run like the wind! Ruuuuuuuuuuuun!