08-12-2008
I'm making a sandwich with cheese.....cheese...... well, just cheese.
But it's a very special milk-based, semi-hard, food-type cheese, of the processed variety, and not a heroin-based recreational drug, which tastes somewhat, but not entirely unlike, Norwegian Geitost. I think they used to use it to plug up ships when they acquired holes in their various parts. Probably Viking vessels, the same who plundered the British Isles a thousand years ago, raping and pillaging like rock stars.
Anyhoo.
I really like sandwiches.
They're scrumptious. They require almost no culinary ability to assemble, and best of all--most important of all--they're cheap. Cheap and easy, that's how I like it. Cheap, easy, filling (sort of), satisfying, easy, cheap, simple, uncomplicated, cheap.... nonjudgemental, no-strings-attached sandwiches. Always there, in your kitchen. So versatile, so adaptable, so changeable.... and yet, always comfortingly familiar, reassuringly idiot-proof.
You may or may not have noticed that I enjoy the grocery store. I don't know why, I haven't figured this out yet, but I think it's because there's just so much to look at and think about. There's a fifty percent chance that, while browsing bananas, out of nowhere, you could be bit by an exotic green tree viper; snuggled in between bundles of tempting yellow fruit, riddled with jet lag, and the bloat brought on by air plane food and illicit sex with average-looking strangers at high altitude.
Not to mention the teenage (and up) riot, so often found roaming the frozen food isle like septic zombies, looking naked without their tiny plastic guitars to compliment their white studded belts, drain pipe slacks, and carefully coiffed bangs (blinders). You know those guys are trouble. Dangerous. You don't want to tangle with any part of that fire (island) brigade.
I follow them around and take pictures with my camera phone to wank to later.
"Oh...... oh, GOD..... so dangerous..... choke me with your wii, you REBEL."
The one place I'm not very excited about these days is the cinema. What is it, eighty bucks to get in now? I used to love going to the movies, it was something I planned and savored. Now it's so expensive, and the films are so lousy, who cares? Even when there's something I want to see, I might as well save my cash and wait for the DVD. It's better that way anyway. Movie theaters have become so clean and 'executive.'
No more sitting next to Roger Ebert, wanking it to Jodi Fosters' mushy titties, drinking coke syrup siphoned from a broken mixing machine in the lobby (I needed the cup) with the theme from Jurassic Park playing in my head, taking me deeper and deeper into a world where dinosaurs and Jeff Goldblum reign. Truly a number one make-out track for the massage therapist on the go, or if you're with Jamie Lee (or, for that matter, Tony "pappy") Curtis and your download stream is extremely slow (and in his case, it's been slow since the '60s.) Now we have Angelina Jolie titties, which are not nearly mushy enough to satisfy my, and Roger's, discerning tastes, and ten dollar popcorn, and twenty dollar gelato.
Once you've shared a tit with Ebert, there's no going back (or forward). And once you've had the gelato, you will never again be able to watch Giada De Laurentiis (or her mushy titties) without getting a cold tingle at the back of your throat (but let's not kid ourselves, that has nothing to do with the gelato).
All I need is a sandwich, a couple of fools in Fall Out Boy uniforms, and a DVD copy of Contact (1997).
That's what you're competing with, Hollywood. Your move.
