This is what I ate today on a vegan whole foods, plant-based diet. It was a very typical weekday for me, as most of my meals are almost the same from day to day, with the exception of supper, which varies a bit more. My weekends are a little less predictable as well. I’ve included links to some informational videos from nutritionfacts.org to show why I eat (or don’t eat) some of the things that I mention here. As much as I can I try to avoid added salt, sugar, and oils, as well as white flour, processed foods, and of course meat, dairy, and eggs. But more important than what I don’t eat is what I do. Every day I strive to get a wide variety and a large amount of vegetables, fruits, whole grains, legumes, nuts, and seeds. Continue…
To name your ice cream dessert a Blizzard makes sense. It’s cold and swirled together like a blizzard. But how does Culvers get away with naming their clone of the Blizzard a “Concrete Mixer”? Is it hard and gravelly like concrete? Did they get their inspiration from a cement truck? I imagine concrete tasting something like being kicked in the face. I would have liked to be in the room when they invented it. “Lets mix together some sand and gravel and clay and sell it as a dessert. Maybe people will become attached to it when it hardens in their throat!”
I’m not very good at making trivial decisions. If it wasn’t for my fiance, I’d still be thinking about what I should have for dinner last Tuesday. So when you stink at making decisions and you’re going to order takeout food, how do you decide whether you should go through the drive thru or walk in and takeout? I pondered this for a while. I was by myself, so there was no one I could ask to make the decision for me. It was cold outside, and I would have to face the weather either by walking out in the cold, or by rolling down my window in the drive thru. I asked my car what I should do, and luckily he answered and my debate was solved. My window was frozen shut.
Every country needs to have their own currency, and while I don’t quite have my own country (yet) that doesn’t mean I can’t have my own currency. Not owning a country never stopped Monopoly or Chuck E Cheese from creating a money system. My aim is to put a new meaning to the term “currency conversion.” I know people might not be too quick to give up their dollars and euros, but I hope that the masses will see the logic in my system and slowly convert to Ramens.
While coming just short of broke while paying the rent on my apartment, I inevitably learned the value of Ramen noodles. When faced with the choice between a bag of chips or a month’s worth of noodles, I quickly determined that eating to live is much more economical than living to eat. I also discovered that Ramen is one of the only diets where you can pretty much live off of the nickels you find on the ground. So I started using Ramens to gauge how much things are worth. For example, a pack of gum could be worth roughly 4 Ramens. Two scoops of ice cream at Culver’s is worth about 25 Ramens. When we move on to more expensive items like, say, a car, the numbers start getting bigger. A typical small car can cost upwards of 100,000 Ramens. So I created a larger unit of Ramens equal to a year’s worth of noodles. Using Ramen Years, that same car would cost about 760 Ramen Years.
If everyone converted to my currency, it would be so much simpler for everyone. And unlike paper bills, the money would actually be worth something. Maybe if I save up enough Ramens I could finally buy myself that country I’ve been wanting.
Update 8/23/2016: It’s happening!
The best part of eating at Pizza Hut has always been the little peppermints you get after the meal. The sweet, round candies with an angelic flavor that leaves a fresh taste in your mouth. But the worst decision Pizza Hut has ever made was a while ago when they decided to switch out the peppermints with their wicked, evil twin, cinnamints. While virtually identical to peppermints, innocent and attractive on the outside, on the inside they are really strong and bitter. What’s even worse is that they have a thin, deceitful layer of peppermint to fool people into thinking that they’ve got the real thing. But as soon as the sugar-coated lie wears off and exposes the filth underneath, they see the malicious treat for what it really is and are immediately turned away. The once happy customer then leaves the restaurant unsatisfied and with a bad taste in their mouth.
We can’t let this go on. We must band together and fight the oppression of the cinnamints. Sign the petition and make a difference. Cinnamon mint is an oxymoron. Bring back the peppermints!
If you buy KFC on Mother’s Day you’d better not be in a hurry. Today being the universal mom’s day off, everybody and their great uncle twice removed is ordering chicken. This time lucky me was nominated as the family food fetcher, and I had no idea how big of a task this would be until I stepped in the door. After figuring out where the end of the squiggly line was, I figured I might as well make myself comfortable. Long story short, I had a lot of fun, I had a lot of time to think, and I made a lot of friends. Not by name, of course; everybody knows each other by order number. “Hi, I’m number 37, what’s your name?”
I usually take the opposing side on most arguments, so I’m going to take this opportunity to explain how much I hate Krispy Kreme donuts. First of all, it really bugs me when things get my hands dirty, and this emotion is multiplied if my hands get sticky as well. The whole selling point for M&M’s was that they don’t melt in your hand, so take a hint Krispy Kreme. Secondly, if the frosting isn’t melting, it’s crumbling. You have to constantly set the donut down and pick up the crumbs before reaching for the donut again and repeating the cycle. And finally, in the presence of a Krispy Kreme your time is completely consumed by either attempting to control the urge to grab one (or two or three), or inevitably the fact that they just taste so good.
I had bacon for breakfast this morning, but there was some question in my mind about what kind of “bacon” it was. There was several possibilities of what it could have been, one being an artificial composite bacon, which we have had in the past. Although it somewhat resembles the flavor of bacon, I think it would be a little more accurately compared to cardboard. Another likely candidate was turkey bacon, which we have also had before. The spices that they use do a pretty good job of disguising the fact that it’s turkey, but it still lacks the greasy, fattening nature of bacon, which is what makes bacon so great. But judging by the texture and hardness of the material that I was consuming, I figured it was most likely dog food. You know, those yummy “Beggin’ Strips” that you see on tv. So I kept that lovely thought in my mind while I crunched it down. But I later found out that it was actually real bacon which my dad had burnt to a crisp.