Damn Your Eyes!

This summer, most of my TV viewing has one way or another involved Gordon Ramsay. If I'm not looking forward to catching the latest episode of Hell's Kitchen, I'm watching last night's installment of MasterChef. Yeah, they're formulaic as hell (Especially Hell's Kitchen) but they're still enjoyable, mostly because the challenges are interesting, the contestants have personalities and because Gordon Ramsay is the last person you could describe as boring.

But lately, I've picked up on something on MasterChef that's just...really annoyed me. Was it the faked audition shots? Not in the least. Was it a contestant who I wanted to smack upside the head? No. In fact it had to do with one of the judges. Don't worry, Chef Ramsay hasn't done anything wrong. He's been his usual self. It has to do with one of the other judges, Joe Bastianich.

I'm sure I'm not the only one who's noticed this but the next time you turn on MasterChef, or watch an episode on YouTube, pay particular attention to the scenes where the contestants present their dishes to the judges. Joy, for whatever reason he's got, always feels the need to stare at the contestants while he's eating. I'm not joking, he will be looking them in the eye while getting the food on the utensil, navigating the utensil to his mouth, opens his mouth, chews and swallows; eyes are all the contestant.

Just imagine his jaw moving up and down...up and down...

Come on, Joe, surely you have better manners than that. I mean, yeah, I know some people might excuse it as an attempt to put the pressure on the contestants. But here's the thing, I think that trying to cook a perfect dish to reflect a certain theme with a specific group of ingredients within a certain time frame against several other chefs who may be equally or more talented than you while being judged by two highly acclaimed chefs and a well established restaurateur with such a lucrative grand prize at stake is pressure enough.

Plus, is that how you eat dinner when your wife makes you dinner or you eat at a friend's place? Do you sit across from them and stare at them like a really bad Bond villain? Sorry, but it just doesn't seem like good table manners. And I don't care if there isn't a table on MasterChef, the staring is just creepy.

"Are these scallops...undercooked, Mr. Bond?"

Men, imagine you're at a urinal. All of a sudden some guy takes the one right next to you and while he's bleeding the lizard, he stares at you. He's not looking at your dick, he's looking at your face. No emotion on his face, just big wide eyes, trying to size you up while he's pissing as well. You'd be a little uncomfortable to say the least.

Look, I have nothing against the guy, he's very knowledgeable and very successful. Just...stop looking at people when you're eating their food. It's like you're trying too hard to stand out and hope some executive at the Food Network offers you your own show. That or you're worries the contestants are going to take the food from you.

Retire Ronald? Kiss My Ass

I was thankful enough to grow up with a mom who knew how to cook really well and there were times when my dad could even surprise us with his culinary talents. However, one thing that was always a great treat when me and my sisters were kids was Burger King or McDonalds.

Of course I've wised up over the years and now only eat at Burger King which is the polar opposite of M'Lord, who only eats at McDonalds and despises Burger King. However, if there's one thing I think about when I hear the name "McDonalds" (Other than "Why does this Big Mac look so small?") is their mascot, Ronald McDonald.

OK, this does look a little creepy

The dude was in every commercial you saw, showing off the same Happy Meal package-burger, fries and soft drink-and the special toy for the week you got when you bought a Happy Meal. Hell, sometimes the commercials usually had these weird story lines that would go one for four months. I tried to find clips from YouTube but was unsuccessful. And yeah, again, I remember story lines from a fast food chain's commercials better than I remember high school math. Memory can be a bitch like that sometimes.

What's also a bitch is when morons try to put the blame on someone else for their own problems. Especially if that someone happens to be Ronald McDonald. I can understand people being concerned about the health of young children with the rates of childhood obesity going up, but comparing McDonalds to the tobacco and alcohol industry? Excuse me, while I might joke about there being rat poison in McDonalds hamburgers, I can say that I know that's true unlike cigarettes.

I hope they didn't pay that artist a lot of money

Look, when I was a little kid, the reason I liked McDonalds and Burger King wasn't because they had a clown or some stupid Kids Club were offering it like the junkie who hangs around the local 7-Eleven. I wanted it because it tasted good and it wasn't something we got all the time, you idiots!

What a lot of people seem to forget, especially parents, is that parents can say "No" to their children if they ask for Burger King or McDonalds. I know my parents did loads of times no matter how much us kids begged. You're the parent. Be blunt. Tell them to stop crying or you'll really give them something to cry about. Send them to bed until they stop crying and you'll only give them what you cook them if they stop crying.

Or be more blunt. Just say, "No, you can't have Burger King this week, you lazy, man booby fat ass because you weigh as much as a horse!" And while this may not be the best way to talk to a seven year old, some of these parents should know that constantly feeding their children fast food because they're too retarded to cook something on their own, isn't the best thing for your man-booby fat ass kid.

Yeah, this is clearly the work of evil mastermind, Ronald McDonald.

And I'm not saying getting fast food or take out on a weekly basis is a bad thing. Every week I go down to Burger King, get either a Whopper or Double Whopper, no onions, some bacon, large fries, large chocolate shake. Mmm, mmm, that's good eatin'. And when I was living at home every Friday was pizza night. But the thing is, I exercise quite a bit and can afford to put on weight considering fat ass in the picture above probably weighs twice as much as me.

Look, I can understand people wanting to McDonalds to offer healthier alternatives but at the same time, parents should at least be aware of what their children are putting in their mouths (Sounds kinda gross). And if you're kid is starting to look a little plump or ready to have a heart attack at the age of 11, get them exercising. That and learn to say no to them. You're the parent for Christ sake, you should know that you have control.

Plus, if you're going to jump on this bandwagon of Retire Ronald, just stop. Have you heard of Ronald McDonald Houses? What the hell are we supposed to call them if you retire Ronald? Besides, he's an advertisement tool, he's meant to draw people in. It's kinda the reason why more people prefer Frosted Flakes over Grape Nuts.
That and the fact the name of Grape Nuts is a lie where Frosted Flakes is exactly what you get.

How bout you try to meet a common ground with McDonalds? Ask them to make a character who is in good shape, promotes healthy eating habit and warns about the dangerous consequences of not, and can appeal to adults too.

"Why so obese?"

Does This Suit Me?

Aaron and Katelynn's wedding is in less than three weeks. And while I spent an entire afternoon last weekend getting them wedding presents, this weekend I spent an entire day looking for clothes.

I'm not a fashionable guy. When I say that, I don't mean that I wear plaid on a daily basis and I know that if I'm going out to a nice restaurant that I probably shouldn't wear torn jeans and a shirt that has some retarded slogan on it. At the same time if you want me to pick out a suit, then you might want to put on a pot of coffee, get out your copy of Atlas Shrugged, because this going to take a while.

It's not that I'm stubborn or anything like that, it's just that choosing is hard for me sometimes. I want to look nice but I don't want to look like I'm late for the royal wedding. I want to be casual but not in a "I got this at Bargain Bin" way. I want a nice colour but I also don't want people blinded by my shirt.

Does anyone know where Spike gets his suits at?

Thankfully that problem has been solved. While I originally got frustrated and decided to take my revenge on the fashion world by dressing like Rod Roddy for the wedding, I came upon a tailor shop in the mall and within twenty minutes left with a nice blue shirt, tie and black pants.

I kept asking myself why such time had to be wasted on clothes that I would wear only once and would most likely never get the smell of booze off of.

"It's tradition," my father explained, sounding a lot like Tevye.

Right now, I'm just glad this is done and am looking forward to my vacation, the wedding, the food, the (hopefully) open bar.

The House-Sitters Club

People usually mistake me for a superhero given the way my name sounds. And the truth is that I usually like to help people when they really need it and if it allows me to show of the awesomeness that is me.

With that in mind, you shouldn't be surprised how quickly I lept into action last Tuesday when I got a call around nine o'clock in the evening from Aaron's fiancee, Katelynn. The following is a transcript of that call.

Schweitzer-Man: (Yawn) Yes?

Katelynn: Oh, Schweitzer-Man! You have to get to our place right away, you're the only one who can help us!!!

Schweitzer-Man: Damn right I'm the only one who can help. Now, what's the situation?

Katelynn: It's our dog, Lyle! He needs your help, this is an emergancy!!!

Lyle is a weiner dog who has a bizarre fetish for ovens (Not kidding) but is pretty cool for a dog. So if he's in danger, you bet your ass I'm going to help. Two seconds later I was outside Aaron and Katelynn's house. I decided to enter the house since knocking would only delay any rescuing that might need to happen.

Schweitzer-Man: I'm here!

Katelynn: OK, now that you're here, Lyle needs to be watched until Aaron and I get back from Hawaii early Monday morning. Bye!!!

In truth, what really happened was actually funnier than I made it sound but needless to say, I'm taking care of Lyle and he's really gotten use to me. As I'm typing this he seems to have fallen asleep on my lap.

It's cool having my own place, being able to cook my own meals, not having to hear crying babies although Lyle whimpers endlessly every time I go to the bathroom. One thing I wish the little guy would do is try to get a stronger bladder. Seriously, dog, just try to go twelve hours without pooping.

Admit it. You said, "Awwwwww" when you saw this picture

I Hate Charley and his Horse

I was relaxing in bed the other day when all of a sudden I felt my right calf start to firm up. For the past week or two it had been sore a bit and I just assumed that it was from all the running around I do. I thought it would go away once I straightened out my leg like I usually do.

However this was not the case. I could feel the skin of my leg start to wrap around the muscle like plastic wrap and the pain intensified. I stretched my leg out and did my best not to scream like a little girl. Instead, I found myself in agony and laughing at my own discomfort. What was adding to the humour was the fact that I was bending my foot to the left and couldn't force it to go straight.

Yeah, that was sort of what my leg looked like...sans Kathy Bates of course

It felt like the muscle was actually going to burst out of the skin and this was going on for too long. I looked at my foot and desperatly willed myself to straighten out. It did and the pain quickly went away.

I found out later from my mother that it was a charley horse and that my father used to get them all the time. I suddenly recalled nights where he would awaken screaming. And to think all the years I thought it was due to him forgetting to turn his night-light on...

According to him, it either means I'm dehydrated (Unlikely) or I need to adjust my diet (Very likely). That really sucks because I think I do good for a guy who eats nothing but junk food and exercises on a semi-regular basis. But in all honesty, it did freak me out for a second and has made me realize that, yeah, a salad every once in a while wouldn't hurt.

So does anyone wanna come over and make me a salad?

Yeah, something along these lines. Not too many croutons, please.

Vegas Vacation: Coles Notes Edition

Normally, I could bombard you with a recap of my trip to Las Vegas with a summary so detailed that Tom Clancy would find it longwinded but instead, I'll just go in point form:

• Walking in -30 weather with howling wind is a bitch.
  
  
• Getting to the gate for the flight was one long maze of lines, scans, questions and bullshit that seem so easy to get around that it's a miracle there aren't more terrorist attacks in North America.
  
  
• Aaron's friend Oleg is a nice guy despite living in Edmonton. He and Aaron met on the internet and at this point, I'll allow you to make your own To Catch a Predator joke.
  
  
• Aaron claims he wants to get back into boxing which shocked the hell out of me. I plan to sell him my heavybag for five times what it's worth.
  
  
• Flights can suck ass when you wait an hour on the runway for them to de-ice the plane. Seriously, a whole hour just waiting. A word of advice to any people who want to fly out when it's really cold: Pre-drink.
  
  Flight 547 to Las Vegas is now boozing
  
  
• Nearly suffered heatstroke once we landed in Vegas.
  
  
• Our hotel was right across from Caesar's Palace. Sadly, it was not as extravagant. Did have a better buffet though.
  
  Breakfast of champions
  
  
• Heavy drinking was one of the activities we lined up for ourselves however it was probably a bad idea to eat only two hot dogs before downing drink after drink after drink.
  
  
• I can understand people visiting Las Vegas but for the life of me I can't understand how anyone can live there.
  
  
• Four Loco is an alright drink for the first few sips but after that it's like punch at a high-school dance that someone spiked way too much.
  
  No es bueno
  
  
• We didn't stay up all night partying unlike the people below us however I'm very certain that when it was all done they played 'That's All Folks' from Bugs Bunny.
  
  
• We spent our first night looking for a strip club but when that didn't work we tried looking for the buffet in our hotel which was even more pathetic considering we kept walking past the stairway.
  
  
• It was probably a good thing though since we were so wasted that we would have been thrown out.
  
  
• Aaron came up with the good idea of going to The Gun Store so we can shoot stuff. It sounded like a good idea so we went.
  
  Special discounts for children and psychopaths
  
  
• You know how in the movies someone who has never fired a gun before will pick one up and turn into Clint Eastwood. Yeah, that's a load of shit.
  
  
• I was having a hard time deciding which gun to shoot however I ended up picking the Baretta, just like Robert Blake.
  
  
• There were many targets to choose from and I decided to go with a zombie clown. Aaron took the zombie soldier (Headshots were a must) and Oleg took one that had two bad guys on it. The taller guy was pointing a gun and screaming and the guy in front of him looked like that midget from Fantasy Island.
  
  "What did I ever do to you, Oleg?"
  
  
• The people who work at The Gun Shop were packing heat at all times. Aaron even saw on the website that if you didn't drop the gun when they told you to, that they would shoot you.
  
  
• Apparently Katelynn doesn't like guns. The Gun Store employee deemed her a 'hippie'.
  
  
• Aaron probably did the best out of the three of us. I was only lucky to manage one headshot on my Zombie Clown. However, truth be told, I had to hold back lest my identity as a former assassin be uncovered.
  
  
• After shooting our loads (So to speak) we went back to the hotel for a bit and then decided to do more sightseeing. I mentioned how Mandalay Bay had a boxing museum that I was interested in checking out. And since we could get buzzed along the way, off we went.
  
  
• As I mentioned earlier, just because it looks close doesn't mean that it really is. We walked, drank, drank, walked, stopped to drink, stopped to pee and then drink some more before walking a lot more.
  
  
• I felt kinda bad for Aaron and Oleg because they're not boxing dorks like I was and yet here we were, busting our asses just to get to Mandalay Bay for a museum. At one point I told them that they could go back to the hotel and rest (And drink some more) but they insisted we stick together.
  
  
• If I didn't wear the camera strap around my neck, Aaron would owe me a new camera. He decided it would be funny to poke my ribs while I tried to focus in on a shot. Naturally had the camera been damaged, I would have had to kill him but thankfully, this was not the case.
  
  Aaron caused me to take this...
  
  ...when I was going for this.
  

• The Mandalay Bay fight museum was...smaller than I had expected. And naturally, I almost got us kicked out within ten seconds of entering because I didn't notice the 'No Cameras' sign.
  

• I don't see the harm in me taking a picture of De la Hoya's trunks he wore against Vargas but if those are the rules...
  
  
• Was a bit disapointed that most of the stuff was actually up for sale. I mean, yeah in hindsight it might be cool to own some small part of boxing history. But to have it for sale in a museum? Just didn't sit right with me.
  
  
• Surprised they didn't have any Manny Pacquiao shirts for sale for $10. I would bought one and started wearing it right then and there.
  
  
• From there it was more walking but this time back to the hotel. Thankfully there were trams that could take us from hotel to hotel but sometimes it felt like we were doing the same amount of walking.
  
  
• You'd think we would have been tired after all this walking but once we rested our feet back at the hotel, we decided we would head to one of the strip clubs we couldn't find before. And since we had free passes, we'd be kinda dumb to not use them.
  
  
• "Little Darlings" sounds like a strip club that features midgets. Oddly enough, one guy did offer us passes to Larry Flynt's strip club which features naked midget mud wrestling. Pass.
  
  Hold your breath. Make a wish. Count to three.
  
  
• We weren't even in the club for two minutes and already Oleg was being felt up. Sadly it was by security after he kept setting off the metal detector.
  
  
• We were greatly disapointed that the strip club didn't even serve alcohol. Instead they offered us soft drinks. Cause everyone knows nothing goes better with a lap dance than Mountain Dew.
  
  
• There was one dancer named Pink who I swear had the upper body of a twelve year old boy. However she made up for her lack of boobies by...humping somebody's baseball hat. I'm not kidding. The guy didn't look to happy about it either.
  

• If you want to read more about what happened at the strip club, pick up this month's issue of Penthouse.
  
  
• I was enjoying the scene but for some reason, when receiving a lap dance, I wanted to burst out and sing, "I've Got a Lovely Bunch of Coconuts".
  
  
• I don't understand why guys think they have to buy souveniers for their girlfriends. Seriously, they'll get over it. Besides, do you think they'll be envious of the crabs you picked up from that stripper and how there wasn't any left for her?
  
  
• Every time I said, "That's my last beer," I was being handed another one. And I drank it.
  
  
• Yes there is footage of me shotgunning a beer. Yes, Aaron and Oleg are full of crap when they say I only did about 1/4 of it, it was more like 3/4 (I would know, I was the one drinking). And yes, I did throw up for over a minute. OK, it wasn't like a minute long puke or anything. Think of it like puking in segments.
  And no, I will not upload it.
  
  
• After the first one Oleg asked, "Did you throw up?" despite being the one holding the camera and pointing it right at me.
  
  
• Even though they were laughing at my expense and I told them, "I fucking hate you guys", I still had a smile on my face.
  
  All the beers I drank
  
  
• Halfway through my barf Aaron told me to finish my beer however I had already put the can down and chances are that I puked on that as well as the balcony.
  
  
• It was funny that immediately after throwing up everything I had eaten up to that point, the next thing I wanted to do was get back to the buffet.
  
  
• I suck at gambling
  
  
• Last day was kind of bittersweet. It was a nice vacation but like all good ones it felt too short and we knew that we were leaving nice warm weather to go back to hell frozen over.
  
  
• If I ever go back to Vegas, I think it will have to be the weekend of a big fight.
  
  
• Viva Las Vegas

DONKEY!!!

You don't need to be reminded that I'm a big Gordon Ramsay fan. I love his passion, his attitude and his sense of humour. And of course, the show that got me started on this adoration was Hell's Kitchen.

I've watched every season. I remember during the summer three years ago when I lived with my sister and her boyfriend how we would gather around my laptop and watch episodes that had been recently uploaded to YouTube while eating a dish that Ramsay himself had posted online like broccoli soup or sticky lemon chicken.

It looks like baby vomit!

Yes, I've been faithful to the show and for some reason it's doesn't seem to get stale or boring...except for this season. It's no fault of Ramsay because whether he's throwing a hot pan in someones face or complimenting them on a perfect risotto, he's always entertaining.

The chefs he has as contestants this season...they just suck so far as I'm concerned. I don't know, their personalities are either bland or bitchy and I really can't believe how quickly these so called men develop vaginas over the course of a few dinners. Plus, how can they screw up stuff that's been on the menu for almost every season. Sorry, but if you haven't got any idea on how to do scallops then you might as well have me take your place, cause I can do scallops.

"Those scallops look lovely, Schweitzer-Man. Service, please."

Plus, five minutes into the first episode and you knew something was off. It was so obvious that the contestants themselves had noticed it and were voicing their displeasure.
No Jean-Philippe.
What in the hell? Yeah, he's back in London working as a maitre'd at another Ramsay restaurant but come on. The dude said he'd never return to Europe and then he just ditches the loyal TV audience like that.

OK, well, he had his reasons and they were legit. But I'm sure that whomever they've got to replace him can surely live up to expectations and while not replace good ol' JP, can certainly be a worthy successor.

Oh...no!

This is what we've got as a substution for the immortal JP? His name is James and don't even ask me where he's from because I don't think his accent can figure it out either. With JP, everything he said, it had that bit of Frenchiness to it...even though he was from Belgium. But with James, it's like his accent is a mix of Texan, British, French and just a drop of Dutch.

Think I'm joking? In episode five of this season, the blue team is doing a punishment and folding laundry. One of the fat guy's pretends that it is a dress and begins flaunting around in it.
"Fat guy in a little table-cloth..." (Apologies to Chris Farley)
James sees this and is unamused. He says something but the problem is his accent at the time is in the mixer and nobody has provided subtitles. So what is he saying?

"Do not cease my lemmings"?
"Do not caress my lemons"?
"Do not increase my limits"?
"Do not crease mile eating"?
Turns out it was "Do not crease my linens" but in all honesty, we could have been here for hours guessing.

After a while, I was just getting bored with it and stopped watching it. However today, after finishing a bi-weekly assignment, I decided that I would spend the time necessary to catch up. Imagine my shock and disbelief when I found out that I hadn't missed everything because the show was on hiatus due to baseball.

So now, I'm not sure whether to count my blessings or if I should catch up on what I've missed on The Apprentice, which I'm surprised to discover I've enjoyed more than this season of Hell's Kitchen.

JP, we hardly knew thee

Back Home...by that I mean Calgary

After a week in humid Ontario, I'm back in my comfortable basement apartment, munching on a late meal of Burger King. It was a nice, relaxing time with my family but it has made me come to the conclusion that no one in my family has much luck when it comes to flying. Now granted, I did have trouble getting into Toronto last Saturday but goddammit, I saw something on the wing trying to sabotage us! I don't care if William Shatner is the only one who believes me, it happened.

The next time Shatner looked at something this horrible, he watched Star Trek: Generations

Not much has changed in the neighborhood where I grew up except that there are a lot more windmills around than the last time I was there. In fact, there were no windmills. Holy crap were there a lot of them. Sad thing was none of them were moving.

"They look like TIE Fighters," observed my dad as we were driving into Essex.
Ooh, nice try to nerd it up, Dad, but to the more experienced and seasoned dork, these windmills clearly look more like Shuttle Tydirium from Return of the Jedi.

This looks like the windmills in Essex County...

...while this does not.

It was nice to see my whole family on both sides as well considering that closest I get to a family are the few glimpses I get of my landlords now that I work midnights and their two babies who will jabber non stop if you let them though when they do it's quite funny.

One thing that I really missed (to the amazement of my cousin who couldn't have cared less) was the discussions that my father's side of the family has with each other. It leads to arguments, clashes of ideology and philosophy, statements that if captured on film would prevent any member of my family from running for office. But in the end it all ends with us hugging, saying goodbye and treasuring the time that we have together.

Of course my mother had to cry at the airport. To throw fuel on the fire that was her sorrow I was tempted to bring along a baby picture to show off my divine cuteness but decided not to risk it considering she would claim I was an Al-Qaeda operative and that it wasn't an alarm clock I was bring back, just to keep me a little longer.

How could you say 'goodbye' to that face?

"I'll miss cooking with you," she sobbed. One thing about both sides of my family is that we know good food and we know how to make it. My last night consisted off a turkey dinner to make up for all the holidays I had misssed. However, I do plan to get back this December in time for Christmas.

Not your standard Saturday night dinner but that's why my family kicks ass

Switch It Off!

I keep missing episodes of Kitchen Nightmares and I can't find any of them on Youtube or any other video streaming website so lately I've just been catching anything Ramsay I can get my hands on.

Couple nights ago I had a dream that I was actually on Hell's Kitchen as a contestant. Don't know why the producers decided to put me on considering the most experience I have in the kitchen was a brief stint as a dishwasher and cooking for myself. Those are the contestants I hate to see on the show. When you're 40, never worked in a professional kitchen but think that playing Mr. Mom (No man with any self-respect should call themself that) qualifies you to be a head chef at a billion dollar casino, then you're about as crazy as some bald eunuch who calls himself a Jedi.

After being eliminated from Hell's Kitchen, contestant Jason Underwood moved to England where he went from sous chef to unemployed Jedi Knight

But it seems that I had made it past the first episode since I was actually doing a challenge (They never do those on the first episode) and the challenge was to cut a whole chicken into eight pieces (Thigh, thigh, wing, wing, drum, drum, breast, breast).

So I went at my chicken and thought I was doing a pretty good job when all of a sudden time was up. Time to present Chef Ramsay with my butchery and see if I'm up to his standard. However as another of my team was up for scrutinizing, something horrible just occurred to me: My chicken has vanished. All the parts that I had cut up were gone. I was looking around for it, wondering if anyone had moved it away. And at this point I'm starting to panic.

Yeah, deep down, I'm sure that Gordon Ramsay is a nice guy who really likes to have a good time but I know that when you're screwing up risotto or under cooking a beef Wellington that he's pretty intimidating. However the dream quickly ended before he could get to me. What's even weirder was that I don't even remember seeing Ramsay to begin with

"A Hell's Kitchen dream without me? GET OUT!!!!"

No Sloppy Seconds, Please

My landlords are great people. Since moving in at the begging of December, they've been really accommodating and I used to have dinner with them every night when I didn't work in the evening. Since I had today off this meant that I had the rare opportunity to sit down and eat dinner with them and watch Judge Judy at the same time (Seems to be commonplace in Calgary; every meal must be consumed with at least one half hour of Judge Judy). I made it very clear from the beginning that whatever they made, I would eat and if I wanted to get something of my own they had no problem with that.

I don't like sausage and even though that was all there was, I still took the opportunity to sit down and watch as Her Honour listened to the case about some bimbo owing money to her ex-boyfriend. Meanwhile my landlords (Whom I shall refer to as M'Lord and M'Lady) were talking about M'Lady's workout at the gym as the kids sat in their highchairs and watched their Baby Einstein DVDs.

Apparently there was some confusion as to whether M'Lady was in the sauna or not the whole time she was at the gym and I don't know why that was so confusing to M'Lord. You go to a gym to use the equipment and work up a sweat. You go in the sauna after the workout. I've never known anyone besides myself who would go to a gym and not use the equipment at all.
OK, granted I did it one time after a hard boxing workout but that was because the shower they had at the time was probably going to make me dirtier.

So we started focusing on the case before us. It seems the bimbo was being blackmailed by her boyfriend who recorded them having sex and was apparently going to put it on Youtube.

"You can't put a sex tape on Youtube," I observed as I took a bite of the sausage (Already this sounds dirty and perverted). "I mean, Xtube, sure, but not on Youtube."

For any ladies reading this who don't know (Or simply can't tell just by the name) Xtube is a free porno site where anyone can upload whatever they want. Look for some of my self portraits when you get the chance.

"Or Youporn," said M'Lady. "[M'Lord] watches Youporn all the time, don't you [M'Lord]?"

I stayed quiet since her tone was pretty harsh. I just watched Judy and continued to eat my saus-...dinner.

But M'Lady kept going on about the porn. I almost wanted to ask if this was appropriate dinner conversation but at the same time I was lowering my head showing my uncomfortableness and doing my best to hold back laughter.

"This is why I don't have a girlfriend," I said, trying to break the ice.

However M'Lady was going to be as frigid as ever over this. "Oh, but M'Lord has a wife and yet he still has to look at porn. That's how macho he is."

I tried to ease the tension by telling M'Lady how the two maintenance guys at work yesterday were taking a brief look at porn on a guy's Blackberry the other day when they were supposed to be actually working. I was on my break and I also just took a brief peek.

"Are any of them married?" asked M'Lady.

"No," but it has just dawned on me as of this writing that one of them is in fact married. Good thing I didn't share that fact.

Either M'Lady is incredibly naive or has no idea how the male mind works but surprise, surprise, men watch porn. It's a fact of life. Married, single, in a relationship-we all do it. It's like farting. It is not glamorous but we do it anyway.

M'Lord remained more calm than I might have imagined in a situation like this but at the same time he wanted to know why M'Lady was being so snarly.

I decided not to wait for a reply and just retreated back to the basement.

Ladies, men watch porn. If you actually believe the bullshit of, "I'm just reading the articles," then (with all respect) you're kinda dumb. We like boobies and we also like variety. Porn offers us both.

Also, why is it that whenever I eat sausage something bad follows? Last time we had sausage, the ginger baby threw up which made me sick two days later and now I can't eat dinner with a straight face and I'm afraid that it might make me throw up again.

Christmas and all that

I've been up since 4AM and for some reason am not the least bit fatigued. First off let me just say that I adore scallops. While most people were pigging out on turkey, cranberry sauce and mashed potatoes, I abandoned the traditional Christmas dinner for my own unique twist-sirloin steak cooked medium (something I pulled off with Ramsay-esque perfection) and roasted sea scallops.

It's the most wonderful time of the year...?

Since the beginning of the month, despite the cycle of songs on the radio throughout the Flying J, I cannot seem to get into the Christmas spirit. Even more shocking to me is how quickly the month has been flying by when in comparison to November. The days just seemed to drip through time like syrup whereas now I feel like there are never enough hours in the day either to do some shopping for my family (and myself) or to sleep.

Eating Shit and The Secret of Simplicity

I have money problems, sad as it is to admit. While I am financially good now, until I get my paycheck next Thursday (the day I don't work), I have to, as my father put it over the phone, 'eat shit'. This isn't him being cruel. It's him saying, "You know how important money is to you now that you're living on your own. You're going to scrape by for the next five days so try not to starve yourself." I think that ever since I moved back home from Waterloo, I had forgotten what it was like in those early weeks when I had little to no money. While that may sound depresssing to some, for me, that was one of the best years of my life. I discovered the secret of simplicity and how you didn't have to spend big to get the full amount of flavour. I could get discount steaks which my sister's then boyfriend at the time, Jon, nearly orgamsed over because of the flavour. A decent sized box of cookies (Which everyone else called crap) for ninety-nine cents. The grandest dessert for me however were red delicious apples. Dinner would be a cup of Mr. Noodle or the Kraft Easy-Mac which drove Stephanie up the wall (as well as the cup of Frosted Flakes I would by every morning as I left work). I didn't go overboard with soda because I got it for free every night at 7-Eleven, as well as the fact that I am a master at making Kool-Aid which comes much cheaper (The secret to good Kool-Aid is the stirring of the mixture). I remember one night as I left the store after working the dreadful afternoon shift (3:00PM-11:00PM) with a Mega Gulp of root beer to come home and see that Stephanie had fixed me a dinner of steak, baked potato and asparagus. A simple meal, nothing special to it but it was delicious and one of the few meals that I remember vividly. Next few days should be interesting

Housing and Gastronomy and Transportation-OH MY!!!

I've been in my new room for almost a week and I must say that I really love the privacy that I have. The whole floor is basically mine though my landlords usually use the basement for exercise and all that. I must say that even though I'm getting a nice supper almost every evening (though not tonight nor tomorrow), I really wish I had my own kitchen.

Chef Andrew? Hell no

Lately I've found myself doing a lot more cooking than I used to. Last week I fixed my own spaghetti sauce and today did the same thing but using all fresh tomatoes from my mother's garden. The desire to cook has been coming from two sources of inspiration: 

 1) Gordon Ramsay-Host of Hell's Kitchen, The F Word, Ramsay's Kitchen Nightmares etc etc. Despite his insistance that he's not a celebrity chef, it's hard not to attach that label to him. But his F Word recipies (mostly desserts) have intrigued me to try and make souffles and hot chocolate fondants as well as experiment with fresh scallops and other ingredients that I hadn't considered in the past. Plus his method for telling how well a steak is cooked has really helped me. That and I find it hard to ignore a guy who swears every other word. 

 2) Marco Pierre White-Not as popular outside the culinary world as Ramsay is but in Britain, this is the man regarded as the greatest of all the chefs. Despite the fact that he's been retired for over 10 years, his influence his still enourmous. Not so much of a TV celebrity like Ramsay, but his program Marco's Great British Feast exposed me to all new ideas for food. I've already made one of his puddings (that's what they call dessert; wonder what they call actual pudding?), altough I did overwhip the cream which screwed me over, and it was alright. 

 With all this cooking I've been doing, my parents have been asking me if I want to go back to school and work towards becoming a chef. I might if I was just turning 18 but I've already decided what I want to do with my life. The cooking is a hobby...but one I like to take seriously. Tomorrow (depending on when I get home from my temp job doing landscaping) I'm going to try and make crème brûlée. While I don't have a small blowtorch to caramelize the sugar topping, I'm hoping the broiler will do just fine.