OOG Edition: Only On Guam

Found as an ad in the Guam Pacific Daily News; which, incidentally, you would get free should you purchase this dish.

One Small Hitch

I've been traveling in Asia the past few weeks. Here's a fun sign on a bathroom door in Guam. I hope it's legible.

Things Spotted Late at Night on the New Jersey Turnpike

Because on a Hot Summer Day...

...nothing is more refreshing than a mouthful of bees.

I Just Have One Question

Which part of this product is from Maryland?

Oldies-Radio Christian-Church Word Problem

If 16 vestal virgins were leaving for the coast,
and the father, son, and the Holy Ghost caught the last train for the coast,
how many will still be virgins by the next morning's first return train?

Middle School Math Puzzle

Since there are middle school math parents and magazine editors among the core readership of this blog, I thought this might be interesting.

Keenan recently had a whole page of trapezoid area problems. Depending on how you approach it, you can get different answers, which I thought was a bit unfair. I'll explain what I'm talking about later, in case anyone wants to take a crack at it.

The Least Surprising Sentence in Today's New York Times

"The exhibit will open with the new film, narrated by the actor Morgan Freeman."

We're No. 4! We're No. 4!

Really, A&E? You're bragging about this?


Sure, when I was a kid, Avis Rent-a-Car's slogan was "We're No. 2. We try harder." Oh, it was a zany, innocent era: You could claim to be "no. 2" without any scatological connotations, while your rival's ads featured O.J. Simpson running through airports. And there was some sound reasoning behind it. Maybe they would try harder to reach that top spot.

But No. 4?!? That's…I don't know…decent? Somewhat respectable? A bit underwhelming? I wouldn't pat myself on the back too much. I mean, you're off the medal stand. No one's making a foam hand for you. You're "honorable mention" at best.

(And, oh yeah, we still have pay phones in Manhattan.)

This Is My New Bank

Before, it was Washington Mutual.

Want some bread with your pasta?

This is the new Domino's "Bread Bowl Pasta". Just in case you haven't had enough carbs today, this should do you in. John ordered a pizza (why from Dominos I haven't a clue, he says because he loves the online delivery service) so I had him order one of these so I could see it in person.
I worked at Pizza Hut many summers ago. To make a pizza, one would open a can of sauce, get the frozen crust out, pour two squirts of oil in the pan, pour two ladles of sauce in the crust, get out the frozen bag of cheeze (spelling error stays), put on X number of pepperoni slices (again, from bag) and put it into the machine-oven, that brought it cooked out of the other side. There wasn't a single fresh ingredient in the entire place. I think the healthiest option was the beer on tap served in pitchers.

This bread bowl isn't doing anyone any favors. It looks like the KFC 'Famous' bowl. Remember McRibs?

I am not making this up

Yesterday I was waiting in the customer service line at Price Chopper to buy a 10-trip bus pass, since the fare was just raised to $1.50 and I never seem to have any change. Not to mention 10 trips cost only $13. The woman in front of me, who I would guess was from Trinidad or Guyana, was sending a $650 Western Union money order to Lagos, Nigeria ($689 total cost, including service fee). It was a very slow transaction.

I spent the time trying to think of any possible reason this deal might be legitimate, and whether ethics or courtesy demanded that I chime in. Of course, the answers are none and no. At the end she asked the cashier not to tell anyone she had been there. The cashier returned a look of extreme puzzlement, raised her palms, and said "none of my business". Since I made no such pledge, I'm sharing my story.

That's two posts in one day!

In today's news

My former boss was issued a 20-count indictment yesterday.

Well, ok, she was very far up the chain of command. In fact, I only ever had one direct encounter with her. One morning she, along with a couple of her handlers, boarded a crowded elevator on an upper floor. Everyone inhaled, and the elevator grew completely silent. "No need to be afraid", she quipped. "But if anyone pushes any one of these other buttons", referring to floors 2 through 13, "I'll see to it you are fired." The silence intensified. Several interminable seconds passed. Finally: "Doesn't anyone recognize a joke when they hear one?" The elevator burst into half-smiles.

Could my son…

…at least put on a fucking necktie for my funeral?!?

Flighty Decisions

After all that hullabaloo about Air Force One's low flight over Manhattan, this is what the photos were used for??? Wow, the economy really is in trouble.

Packaged Food Instructions 1, Jack 0

Last Saturday night, the parking space I found was pretty close to the big fancy Shop-Rite supermarket in town. So I thought, hmmm, instead of getting a takeout chicken parm sub tonight, or ordering a pizza, or making due with the third-of-a-bag of Rold Gold thin pretzels in my apartment, I suppose I could purchase and heat up some sort of frozen item. And not some run-of-the-mill frozen item from the boring A&P near my place—an exciting big fancy Shop-Rite frozen item. Something I've never had before! And I had orange juice at home. This was going to be a gourmet meal!

No Hot Pocket tonight, no sir! I walked up and down two-and-a-half long aisles of frozen delights. As I've stated before, I spend very little time in supermarkets, so every visit is a fun scavenger hunt. Everything's new! It's like that movie Memento if it were a comedy.

My eyes lit up at the sight of Barber Foods skinless breaded boneless chicken cordon bleu. "Quality since 1955," the package said. "Half off!" the price tag chimed in. Time-tested, value-priced chicken, cheese, and ham? Count me in, brother!

But first I decided to read the instructions.

Ooh. Do not microwave. That's a drag, but—not a deal-breaker. I do have a conventional oven, which I believe to be in working order.

Bake for 28 minutes. Huh. That's a long time. That's a really long time. And very much at odds with my oft-stated philosophy: If it takes longer to prepare than to eat, screw it. And it was nearly 9 p.m. already. But…no, no, I could do this.

But then came the words that stopped me dead in my tracks. "Cook to a minimum internal temperature of 165 F measured by a meat thermometer."

A meat thermometer?

I do not own a meat thermometer. (Unless we're using it as a euphemism, and then, yes, in that case, "Ay, I got yer meat thermometer right here, dollface.")

I momentarily wondered what a meat thermometer might cost, but quickly realized that even a bargain thermometer would totally blow the budget for this particular meal. And since I rarely use the oven, I have no idea if it bakes hotter or colder than the dial would indicate. And the folks at Barber Foods felt compelled to mention the meat thermometer twice on the box, also adding the words "UNCOOKED" and "For Food Safety..."

I've got enough problems without giving myself a case of salmonella from half-price frozen chicken. I placed the package back on the freezer shelf.

That night's dinner? A Jimmy Dean Breakfast Bowl. "Ready in 3 Minutes!"

Which is also not a euphemism.

The Gazetteers

We've decided to release our new album, We Are Here, online, for free, two songs at a time, as if they were singles. Go to it already!

Separated at Birth V

Donatella Versace













and Mickey Rourke

Write Your Own Joke

Fainting Dog