Tuesday, November 29, 2011

Day 328: Bacon Flavored Coffee

     The vegetarian lifestyle seems to be holding up just fine...I think. See, I bought this stuff called Torani bacon syrup. It's a flavoring syrup that you can use in various culinary creations. With a bottle of it, you're able to 'bacon-ize' (I'm gonna coin that)basically anything edible. From milkshakes to Milkduds, it's really up to you.
      I was hesitant about buying and trying it cause the bottle didn't specify whether or not it contained any actual meat. You'd think that a bottle of bacon flavoring would have at least a hint of meat-mentioning in the ingredient section, (or at least I did) but I couldn't find squat. Eventually, I decided to throw caution to the wind and I bought it anyway. Drink bacon coffee first, ask questions later.

     A little blurb on the side of the label suggests that I pour a splash of it in my morning coffee to shake things up. I took that advice and brewed up a heaping batch this morning. Now, don't think for a second that I thought that this would actually be a good idea. I just saw my opportunity to try bacon coffee, and I simply couldn't refuse. Within the first timid sips, I could safely establish that it was utterly terrible. But of course the coffee was terrible, it was bacon flavored after all. Who really wants that? I knew from the beginning that it would suck. It was one bad cup of Joe, and I felt like I had been unfaithful to my vegetarian commitment by drinking it (But as far as I could tell, it was totally animal-free). But I still felt like I hadn't experienced the full potential of 'bacon-izing my breakfast'. To be sure, I took things up a notch by pouring myself a shot of liquid bacon. Without so much as a second thought, I drank bacon (something I never thought I'd say) and immediately regretted it. It was probably the dumbest thing I've done since that whole meat shake fiasco back in April. It was just a massive blur of fakon (fake bacon) and sugar. All I can say is that it was thoroughly traumatic for my mind, body and tongue. Just God awful stuff. It seems that bacon and coffee just aren't meant to be. Too bad, I could have added it to my "try this again" list, where goodies such as chocolate soda and root beer milk reside.
Sweet mug
     All in all, it was a pretty terrible experience. I blew 6 bucks on the bottle and jeopardized my veggie-ways. But on the other hand, I learned that bacon syrup sucks, and I even solidified my new found anti-Atkins diet a little. So it's not all bad.

Sunday, November 27, 2011

Day 327: Chocolate Soda

     If there's such thing as a match made in heaven, chocolate soda has got to be it. I found it at none other than the World Market (my new favorite grounds for obscure treasure hunting). Whoever thought of chocolate soda should get a Nobel Peace Prize or at least a solid high-five. I imagine they thought of the idea by saying something along the lines of "Hey, I love chocolate, but I hate wasting so much time chewing the darn stuff. I should invent liquid chocolate so I can spend more time chugging chocolate and less time chewing it". Genius. Yeah so I bought the stuff (and seemed to impress the cashier with my find) and enjoyed it over an always entertaining Facebook eavesdropping session.
     I clicked on random people's profiles as I sipped away. This stuff was good, which probably sounds pretty obvious. I mean, it's chocolate flavored soda, what's not to love? The taste wasn't much of a surprise (I know my way around a chocolate bar) but it was interesting none the less. Care to try some? The World Market is packed with exotic tasty treats.

Day 326: Grow A Mustache

Moments before shaving
Just a little off the top.
     This challenge has been in the works since the beginning of the month. I was doing the whole no-shave-November thing, but my facial hair is too patchy (and, lets face it, just plain bad looking) for me to keep. So I succumbed to the urge to shave. I just had to have those baby-bottom-smooth cheeks again. I doubt many people even knew that I was participating in the the bare-skin-boycott, but I still felt like I was giving up too soon. So I came up with a compromise, I would shave everything but the mustache. I'd have soft cheeks and I'd be taking care of a challenge for the day. Two birds, one stone.
     Unfortunately, once shaved, I noticed that although I may have pretty bad facial hair all around, the mustache has got to be weakest part. It was all short and blonde with only a few dark colored whiskers. From a distance, it just looks like I've got dirt above my lip. And from up close, it just looks like I have bad taste in facial hair. Two stones, no birds.

     I told myself that I'd keep the stache until the end of No-Shave...but I don't know if that'll happen. It just looks so bad. We will see. Maybe next year I should take more of those beard pills. That'll do the trick.

Day 325: Build A Cigar Box Guitar

Ready to do some damage
This is the one I saw at the cigar shop
     These things are so awesome! I was introduced to the greatness that is the cigar box guitar today and I haven't been able to get them out of my head. I have to build one. A cigar box guitar is exactly what it sounds like (well, it sounds like a guitar...not a cigar box). It's a cigar box that has been turned into a working instrument. I use the word "working" loosely because-after hearing some of the guitars being playing online-I now know that the cigar box guitar is more of a novelty then something that is meant to make platinum records. But I must say, some of those dudes really knew how to melt some faces with those things.

     So I called Mouse up and told him about the instrument and how I'd die if I didn't have one, he bit. We met up at the Home Depot where I gathered most of the supplies, then headed over to my house to start the building process. I won't go into detail about the building process, that's what this guy's video is for. Watch it if you too would like to be the proud owner of a cigar box guitar.
     So, Mouse and I didn't get to finish the guitar in one day, but it's coming along nicely. I decided to make two of these bad boys. The first one (the one I'm working on right now) is going to be acoustic. It's like the rough draft, I'm using the cheapest materials available and I'm looking for functionality only. If everything goes well with this first guitar, then I'm going to up the stakes for the second one. The next one will be electric, it will be made from some higher quality crap and I will learn how to shred it like no other (hopefully).
Work in progress 

Day 324: Visit Wattenburg

     For today's challenge, I was planning on picking up some garlic so I could cook up a pain relieving cream that I saw online. I was really looking forward to it because I spent the day snowboarding and now my body was in pretty poor shape. But my plans for garlic were thwarted as I drove by the store and saw that every single parking space was occupied. The place was swarmed with folks that were reserving their rightful spot in the chaotic shit show known as Black Friday. The sales wouldn't start for at least another 6 hours, but that wasn't gonna stop these guys. I mean, it's Thanksgiving after all, why spend time with your families when you can wake up at ungodly hours to stand in a mile long line where you indulge in a greed driven comatose, so you can buy shit you don't want for the very same people you wouldn't even spend the Thanksgiving with?
     As for me, I don't care too much for the holidays. A bit of quick thinking and a lead foot got me a safe distance from the Black Friday apocalypse. I had to think of a new thing to try and so I kept driving, and I kept thinking. Eventually, I came to a highway, and decided to see where it led me. I just sat there, driving. I wanted to get as far away from Black Friday as possible, which is easier said then done. Every radio station seemed to be favoring the commercials over the actual music. I'd hear that monster truck announcer's voice say something like "Starting at 3am, get four blenders for a nickel!!!!!!!!!!!!!!", and then I'd change the station.
This probably took place in Wattenburg
     I decided that my challenge would be to visit a town that I had never been to before, ideally it'd be one that was too small for a Walmart or any Black Friday nonsense. My wishful thinking had been answered. I saw a rustic old sign on the side of the highway that advertised that Wattenburg was one more exit up. I had never heard of the place, and judging by the desolate scenery, I'd say that most people haven't either. I took the exit and drove around the town for a good while. There were no signs life, and the gravel paved road was my only real clue that humans had ever been there. Soon enough, I found a corroded old shack that I assumed to be the town's bar. The dirt parking lot sported a couple pickup trucks that shared a striking resemblance to the rusty exterior of the building. I drove around a bit longer but couldn't find any other places of interest. It was just dirt and grass. It was clear that I had gotten about as much fun out of Wattenburg as it was going to allow. It was time to trek home.
     On the way back, I tried to justify to myself that the trip wasn't a total waste of time and gas. In one respect, it did desist me from dealing with Black Friday (with the exception of all of those radio advertisements). And I got to see a new place (well, I got to see some dirt, a shack and a couple of trucks). It was also a good time to for me to just sit and think about stuff, and I liked that. In the end, I don't think that this was a waste of time whatsoever. This project is all about getting cultured about anything and everything, and Wattenburg was just another opportunity (an incredibly boring one) for me to experience.

Saturday, November 26, 2011

Day 323: Tea Leaf Fortune Telling

     Supposedly, loose leaf tea has the power to see into the future. Now, I don't believe for a second that this is true, but any excuse to drink some tea is worth a closer look it in my book. I brewed a hot cup of tea and sipped at it over an episode of Arrested Development. Once finished, I did as the fortune tellers did by ripping  the tea bag and pouring its contents into the cup. Then I swirled the leaves around in the cup and flipped it upside-down on a plate. The leaves were all jumbled up and my future was ready to be deciphered.  Take a look at these pictures and tell me what ya think I have in store. From what the video has taught me, my tea leaf fortune is telling me that something huge is coming my way. There's also something that looks like a cat that's been in some sort of an accident (that's in the near future), and for some reason, there's a horse head in my past. I'll just have to wait and see if the deformed cat thing comes true before I can say for certain whether or not this voodoo magic works.

Tuesday, November 22, 2011

Day 322: Practice Witchcraft

"Magical" instructions 
     I  used to know a girl that was into witchcraft. She sat next to me back in Elementary school and she would go on and on about how her magic powers and mystic potions. Even as a fourth grader, I knew that it was total bullshit, but I'd let her ramble. Once, she told me about how she had killed her sister and then raised her back from the dead that very same night. Kids would make fun of her for being so (even for an elementary-schooler) weird. She'd threaten us by saying that'd she'd turn all of us into bats for making fun of her, but from the looks of it, I don't that panned out. I don't remember anybody actually believing her stories, but that didn't stop her. She just kept acting like she was possessed at recess like always.
From the money spell
     Today's challenge, to try witchcraft, kept making me thing of that girl. It wouldn't surprise me at all if I found out that the website, spells and magic was ran by her. It was a strange place. The site enclosed a disclaimer that  warned visitors to be careful when casting spells. I found this both mildly amusing, and somewhat pathetic. This guy really took this stuff seriously. I on the other hand, do not (remember, I'm still not a bat). Either way, I needed a new thing for today and witchcraft seemed just dumb enough to try.

     I chose two spells to cast. One was to elevate my pride, and the other was to help me obtain money. The whole song and dance was almost too corny to bear, but I went with it anyways. For each spell, I had to act out a series of cliche steps. I felt like I was in a terrible Harry Potter remake. But I did as the site instructed me and completed both spells. If for some strange reason you'd like to dabble with the dark arts, I suggest you have a look around the spells and magic website. And let me know if you ever come across a turn-you-into-a-bat spell, I could use one that actually works.

Day 321: Light Money On Fire

     I was looking up the consequences of burning money when I came across a neat little trick. Apparently, if you saturate a dollar bill in a mixture of water and rubbing alcohol, you can light it on fire without damaging the bill at all. Right then, I asked my brother if I could borrow a dollar (I'm not about to risk my own money) and we began the experiment. We determined that the experiment not only worked, it worked over and over again. The two of us stood in the kitchen repeatedly lighting the bill and watching as it eventually extinguished itself. We must have tried to burn the bill about 20 times, but it always came out in tact. We totally got our moneys worth outta this one (get it?). I'm not going to try and explain how this trick works, (It's all sciencey and stuff) but I'll post this video that explains it quite well. Check out these pics too.

Day 320: Join A Protest

     You all probably know about that whole 'Occupy Wallstreet' movement that's been sweeping the nation, right? I've been hearing more and more about it lately, and I've decided that all of this media attention it was gathering merited some first hand experience on my part. I, like most people, have no clue what the hell this movement is really about. From what I can tell, it's a bunch of people that have been camping outside cities all across the nation because being broke sucks. While I can vouch for the being broke sucking thing, I'm not entirely sure what the whole camping craze is doing. People have been sleeping on the streets for two months to protest the greedy ways of the rich. I get that, I really do, and I even agree with it. The thing that I don't get is this, what is occupying a public park for 8 weeks going to do about it? In the beginning the camping routine did wonders for capturing the spotlight, but now what? The movement has coverage from every major network and media source, but nothing is changing. There is no mission statement, there is no direction, there are no demands. All I see is a collective bunch of people (ranging from passionate demonstrators, to curious pedestrians, to hipsters and homeless people) that aren't entirely sure what the goal is, but feel secure being a member of an idea that's bigger than themselves. Progress isn't being made like it seemed in the beginning, because there's no structure or organization. The figure that doing what they did yesterday (make cardboard signs and chant at cars as they honk) will suffice. But hey, that's just one guy's unintelligent and very condensed opinion.

     Sean and I made our way downtown to take part in the protest. We found the group of maybe 40 people laying around in Civic Center Park and assumed that they were the movement. As we approached the group, I saw people sleeping under blankets and sleeping bags and others mingling with one-another. About 10 of the protesters were actually protesting when we got there. Most of the signs said overly-idealist slogans like "Stop the war on workers" or "Yes we camp". Some of the sidewalk chalk illustrations were a bit more vulgar. Sean and I quickly grabbed scraps of cardboard and began drawing up our signs. I asked a passerby what I should write on my cardboard, and he said, "All for one, One for all", so I went with that. Sean went with the classic "99%" for his and we made our way to the sidewalk to voice our concerns and protest. We were greeted by fellow 99'ers. One lady told me that she had been camping out on the street since day 28, which was impressive and disturbing (sidenote- that lady had to have been the ugliest person I have ever seen in my entire life. Like, it looked like her face was sculpted from melted plastic by a mediocre artist. And her hair looked like dirty fast food straws. I guess beauty sleep is just another sacrifice for those brave protesters).  We chanted and cheered for honks as the cars passed. I think that the supportive honk to middle finger ratio was about even by the end of the day. It was cold and most people didn't seem too thrilled that we were occupying the park so Sean and I eventually left. Even after my afternoon with the protesters, I still have no idea what the movement is really about.

Monday, November 21, 2011

Day 319: Make Margaritas

     I'll be 21 pretty soon here (3 months and 18 days to be exact, but hey, who's counting?). I'm not very big on the whole party scene, but I have wanted to try a margarita for quite some time now. They always seemed so relaxing, like the lemonade of the adult beverage community. Mouse and I had to get Kevin, who has recently gradated to 'of age' status to buy most of the ingredients. We gathered the margarita salt and lemon juice (and some ice cream, frozen pizza, and a candy bar) from the grocery store as Kevin handled the grown-up transactions. At Kevin's house, we heated up our dinners and did some last minute research on the drink. We measured nothing and it showed. There was no method to the madness. We threw in splashes of this and that and gauged our amounts by gut instinct. I had high hopes for the drink before I took a strong whiff, but that smell definitely took my excitement down a few pegs. It reeked like a tart lemon Warhead candy. The three of us traded concerned looks. We knew that we did a piss poor job of following the instructions, but now it was time to enjoy our piss poor drinks. We each tried our margarita and immediately agreed that it was terrible. It tasted like biting into a salty crab apple or tart lemon right after you brushed your teeth. As of yet, I'm not sure if it is our questionable cooking skills to blame, or if all margaritas taste that bad. I'm sort of leaning towards a little bit of both.

Sunday, November 20, 2011

Day 318: Acupuncture

     Been wanting to do this one for a while. I spent a fair chunk of an afternoon shopping around for a clinic that looked sterile and trustworthy. What I found was a place in Boulder that was ran by a total space-case of a woman. It was called Community Acupuncture Clinic and it sat on the second level of a strip mall on Arapaho Ave, directly above a cash advancement store. I walked in for my 8:30 A.M. appointment and was welcomed by a textbook Boulderite (Boulder resident). Her office was small, so small that a client was being treated on the table right behind her desk. A fabric partition shielded most of the client, but her needle covered feet were still exposed. Most of the space in the office was taken up by bookshelves that housed hundreds of bottles of pills. She told me that they were all totally organic and described some of the uses for them. The herbs could treat everything from headaches to athlete's foot.
     The practitioner wasted no time as she introduced herself and began examining my wrist simultaneously. She asked me about my sleep and poop cycle as she ran three fingers parallel with a main vein in my left arm. I tried to answer the poop question, but she seemed too preoccupied with my wrist to care. She wore a sort of introspective look and kept humming a sound of affirmation as she pressed down on my vein. I made sure to look totally puzzled so she would explain what the hell it was that she was checking for. It must have worked because she told me that she was feeling my heart and lungs and liver...but she wasn't...she was feeling my wrist. This was weirding me out, and I made a mental note to do a better job of shopping around next time.

     After our little survey session, she led me into another room and had me take my shoes and socks off and sit comfortably on an old lazy boy recliner. The room was divided in two by a thin cloth barrier. The lady reclined the chair and briefly explained what the procedure would entail. In a nutshell- I was paying her to stab me with needles.
     In total, she only used 7 needles. 1 on each wrist, 1 in the center of my rib-cage, 1 a bit South of that, 1 on each shin (that one wasn't too pleasant), and one on my left foot. She aimed the needle with where it was supposed to go, then used a sort of finger flicking motion to jab it into my skin. It wasn't really painful or anything, it was more of a mild sting. My muscle twitched pretty hard on the first needle, but it was smooth sailing from then on. Once the needles were in place, she told me to just sit there and relax (which is strange advice to give to someone with newly acquired puncture wounds). She closed me off with the thin cloth wall and I focused on trying to lose focus. Eventually, I made it to that grey area of sleep, but I was awoken by the voice of what must have been another client. She was a loud one, voicing concerns about how far in the needles will go and if it's a dangerous procedure. I remember her saying something like "Should I lay on my back or my side? Well I sleep on my side, but what if I roll over onto the needles? Could that kill me?". She was going on and on about the stupid needles.This hypochondriac was ruining my relaxation. Seriously, if you're that freaked out by needles, why in the world would you ever get acupuncture? It is acute-puncture after all.
     I tried to block out the outside noises and finished my session feeling less than tranquil. The Boulderite pricked the needles out one-by-one and sent me on my way. To be honest, I didn't feel much of a difference, but then again, I didn't really have anything wrong with me in the first place. If it's not broke, don't fix it scenario fer-sher.

Thursday, November 17, 2011

Day 317: Coffee Ground Rejuvenation

     Here's another one that comes straight outta left field. It's the notion that rubbing a mixture of freshly used coffee grounds and olive oil into your skin will help it stay healthy and young looking. The site that I got this from was saying that it does wonders for people with cellulite, and although I don't suffer from cellulite, I didn't want to take any chances, ya know? So I fired up the ol' coffee maker and made a quick cup. Once the drip cycle was done, I threw the steaming grounds into some Tupperware and added a dash of olive oil. I didn't see how either of these two ingredients were going to treat my skin, but I'm not one to doubt the ethos of the internet. I continued to stir my mix as instructed, then I applied a layer onto my right leg. I figured that I'd spare my left leg so I could see if there was any improvement from the treatment. The application took place in my bathtub to contain the mess. It was hot, and messy, and smelly, and I kept asking myself what my dad would think if he found out that I was lathering my leg with fresh coffee grounds in a bathtub at 11:30 on a Thursday night. But that's just what this project has turned me into. I'm officially that guy. The one that is more than willing to try anything and everything without giving a thought as to what the outcome might be. I'm now that guy that bathes in coffee grounds, simply because the internet told him to. I figure that being open to try new things is what I was aiming for in the beginning, so I guess it's successful in that respect.

     Needless to say, I haven't noticed any improvements on the leg (probably cause I didn't have cellulite in the first place) and now my bathroom smells like a Starbucks and is littered with traces of black coffee grounds.

Wednesday, November 16, 2011

Day 316: Nipple Cream

     I've found that these hippie dippie stores that I've been checking out lately are chock full of weirdo goohazz (just made it up) for me to try. I was roaming through one earlier tonight and was having trouble picking out something good. Luckily, an employee saw me perusing the isles for some time and asked if I was looking for something in particular. I explained to her that I was looking for a gag gift for a friend of mine (I didn't want to fess up myself, that's too pathetic). I asked if she knew of a product that was just "Out there" I wanted this gag gift to knock his socks off. The weirder the better. She pondered the question for a sec, then she said "Nipple cream!" as her expression lit up in excitement. I followed her down the maze of isles to a desk that sat right next to the employee's break room. She fished out a large plastic tub that was jam-packed with all sorts of goodies. "They send us so many free samples" she said, "We don't even know what to do with most of them". I watched as she shuffled through the bucket of organic diet pills and environmentally friendly floss. Finally, she nicked a couple nipple cream packets and a tube of nasal spray (which wasn't asked for and  made me a little self conscious, do I sound nasally?) for me. I took a quick peek at the cream packets. The instructions said that the product is used to heal "sore, cracked nursing nipples" (shivers* what-an-image). From what I got from it, it seems like this is basically chapstick for your nipples. It occurred to me that I don't need chapstick on my nipples, but I figure that a good defense couldn't hurt. I mean, winter is coming fast, and my nipples are sitting ducks at the moment.
Nipple Dance
     This was good, I got my new thing (a pretty interesting one too), and I got it (plus some nasal spray) for free. I went home and ripped off my shirt and immediately felt totally awkward. I applied a layer of the cream onto their designated areas. That's about when I started asking myself "Why do boys even have nipples?" and that only led to the bigger and more controversial side of life's questions.

     And that brings you up to speed. As I type this very sentence, my nipples are being protected from a the side effects of nursing with a cream of virgin olive oil, beeswax and shea butter. My nipples may feel protected and rejuvenated, but for some reason, I feel like I should be ashamed of myself.

Tuesday, November 15, 2011

Day 315: Break A Law

I'm putting this on my resume
     I just read that it was in fact, illegal, to move rocks while on city property in the state of Colorado. One can't help but ponder the questions that arise with a law that is as strange as this. Once I read this, I thought to myself "What if the rocks are already on the city's property? Is it only unlawful if I bring my own rocks to move around? Is there some sort of size restriction? Does sand count as rocks (cause I can think of a few times where I mistakenly hauled around traces of sand in the pockets of my jeans.)? For that matter, whats the protocol for the different types of rocks? I don't want to be taking granite for granted (rock jokes!). And what actually counts as moving anyways? Can I rearrange the rocks if I see them as disorderly? Soooooo many questions. Instead of finding any of the answers to these burning questions, I thought I'd play it safe and just go and break the law anyway.
 Sean and I drove on down to the City of  Thornton's police station/court to get our delinquent hands on some sediments. We parked in the lot with all of the police cruisers and scoped the situation. We saw a few officers standing outside of the building and a couple more off in another direction, we'd better be careful. There were long islands of rock gardens that divided the parking lot, bingo. Slowly, I stepped out of the vehicle, and showed absolutely no respect for the law as I gently picked up a grapefruit sized rock and held it for Sean to see (I was lookin' for trouble). To take things further, I began to stack a pile of rocks (right in front of those cop's faces!) like a total badass. One by one, I picked up rocks and held them above my head. The cops walked inside (probably to call for backup). I picked up one last rock for a quick snapshot then the two of us jumped into the getaway car and sped on outta there. We exchanged high-fives and soaked in the moment on the drive home. I'm not sure if I'm counting this challenge as: "break the dumbest law I have ever heard" or "intentionally break a law in front of a cop". I guess it counts as both, and I guess you can now refer to me as a hardened criminal.
Lift with the legs...

Monday, November 14, 2011

Day 314: Eat Seaweed

     Frankly, I didn't even know that seaweed qualified as food, I always dismissed it as a nuisance, the weed of the sea. I had no intention of eating seaweed tonight, instead I had big plans for my new thing. I was on my way to a Buddhist temple in Boulder to sit in on a class and discussion type dealy. My phone, that had the directions to the temple, died on me and Sean as we tried to navigate through the foreign streets of Boulder's downtown. We were lost, and there was no way we were going to make it to the Buddha gig. We decided to make the best of the situation by parking the car and wandering aimlessly about town. The two of us drifted through the mall of shops in search of something odd. I gave a homeless man a dollar, then ordered a tall chi tea from a Starbucks. I asked the kid who was making my drink weather or not he knew anything about the supposedly legitimate cat poop coffee that was rumored to be next big thing in the industry. Someone in class was going off on cat-poop coffee beans a couple days ago, and they were ranting about how Starbucks should have them in by the end of the year. As far as poop goes, I guess this stuff was supposed to be really freaking tasty...and expensive. He wore a blank face, then said "I haven't heard of anything cat poo related lately, but ya never know" and handed me my coffee. Dang, that could have been a great challenge.
     Author's Note- Just looked up this cat poo coffee online. It's real. It's called Kopi Luwak and it's known as the world's most expensive coffee (160$ a pound!). Basically, an ugly cat eats the beans of coffee berries, poops them out, and then people make expensive shitty (in a good way?) coffee out of it. I'm sure that the process is a bit more in depth than that, but I've been looking at this "how to make cat poop coffee" Wiki page for too long, and now I just feel creepy.
     From there, we headed over to the Whole Foods megaplex to drop off the glass bottle from the root beer milk challenge so I could get my 1.50$ bottle deposit back. It was obvious that there was some in-store exploring to be done, so we quickly got to work. It was a tossup between some unidentifiable green mush I saw in the buffet section and the dehydrated seaweed chips, a lose-lose for everyone. The cashier that rang me out told me that seaweed is like "The next big thing". I wasn't sure what he meant, but assumed it was good. Later I found out that seaweed is horribly disgusting and I made a huge mistake buying and eating it. I forced down 2 and a half 3x1 inch chips of dried up seaweed to ensure that I gave it a fair shot. Seaweed is horrible, no wonder fish are so unhappy, that stuff sucks. It looked just like that green mildew that gathers on the glass of a fish tank, and guess what... it tasted just like it as well. I felt like I was chewing on a Fruit by the Foot snack that had been salvaged from the Titanic. Just God awful. Now my stomach hurts and my tongue tastes like I've been licking sewage pipes. If only I made it to the temple...

Sunday, November 13, 2011

Day 313: Root Beer Milk

Aren't those doors nice?
     I like Boulder (The city, not the rock. I'm pretty neutral about rocks), its weird. It's a town filled with a little bit of everything. I like that it's so outdoorsy, and that there's always something to try when I'm over there. After a successful skate session at the park, Sean and I toured the giant Whole Foods market in hopes of finding something weird enough to try. At first, it was the fancy glass doors in the dairy section that interested us. We finagled with the thin doors for a bit, then noticed a bottle of root beer milk. It was a done deal, I was treating myself to this tasty twist on milk. One vigorous taste test later- I think I found another occupier for my mini fridge. It's like root beer, but without that fizzy nonsense that makes me burb uncontrollably, and it goes down like ten times smoother. It's probably the closest thing to liquid butter that I've ever tried. waaaaaay good. I'd definitely recommend it to anyone, a real treat for the taste buds.

Day 312: Cook An Omelette

According to the interwebs:
Eggs are totally vegetarian*
     So I'm having another go with the ol' vegetarian song and dance. It's not for the project or anything, I just don't know if I want to eat meat anymore. Four days have come and gone since the start of my culinary crusade and I gotta say, I'm doing it a lot better this time around. It's not the same haze of lukewarm tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches that clouded my first attempt.

Round 1

     Tonight for dinner, I tried out a recipe I found on some hippie dippie website. They claimed that avocado omelettes were perfect for the hopeless cook (I was intrigued). After trying to cook said omelette, I realize that their claim was hogwash...or maybe my cooking skills are so pour they don't even qualify as "hopeless". I had some serious trouble with this meal. Omelettes were harder than I thought, and I sucked at cooking more than I remembered. But cooking's all trial and error. I guess that's where the old "If you're gonna make an omelette, you're gonna have to realize that your terrible at cooking omelettes" saying came from...or something like that. Despite how unappetizing the dish looked, it was actually perrty darn tasty. Definitely one of those "mouth-open, eyes-shut" meals.

Round 2: Mild improvement