Boilermaker Chili

Yesterday I brewed up some goddamn tasty chili, today I brought some of that tasty goddamn chili to work with me for lunch. It must have smelled amazing because as soon as I opened up the container Keanu Reeves showed up out of nowhere and chilled with me and my chili on this chilly Tuesday. It was pretty chill, I guess.

You would think that eating lunch with Keanu Reeves in my cubicle at my shitty job would be cause for considerable excitement, but Keanu, that super-chill motherfucker, did not have much to say. He just sat there and stared at my amazing creation, silent, contemplative, and full of a burning intensity that I cannot describe. In order to break the awkward surface tension that follows him everywhere I decided to strike up the conversation by explaining how I give every batch of my chili its own unique name, kind of similar to tropical storms or hurricanes. I do this for the same purpose that meteorologists name hurricanes: to identify that specific chili's batch, intensity, heat, and of course...destructive output.

This particular batch was named "The Grand Canyon" because photos and descriptions can never do it justice. You just had to be there, bro. TGC definitely lived up to its name as it was indescribably beautiful, fragrant, and delicious. TGC also outperformed my two previous batches, "The Colon Hammer" and "The Ray Bradbury Theatre", with startling dominance. It truly was a wonder of the world.

F - 2,450.9
A - 2,350.9
T - 2,450.9
T - 2,450.1

The Grand Canyon scored brilliantly on all metrics of the FATT scale. The fun, tastiness, and texture were near perfect. Much like visiting the canyon in person, eating this chili gave me spiritual strength and clarity that filled my being with a temporary peace of mind that cannot be stated in mortal words. However, this peace lasted maybe 45 minutes because soon after the wave of euphoria passed the chili itself also passed violently through my bowels. It was an awesome roller coaster of enlightenment and fear that left me feeling like a better, stronger, more focused human.

Keanu was there watching me the whole time, too. He didn't try the chili, but he did finally start talking when I told him how awesome his performance in Point Break was. That movie is amazing.

Fruit Cup

Friday fruit cup day was a fucking unparalleled adventure this morning. Mario threw on his pink dirt bikin' sweater and I threw on some jams by Shakey Graves, the next thing we knew I somehow got drunk and he somehow got laid by a decent looking mexican chick who was hanging out by Home Depot. Awesome, right?

Now, a moment ago when I said I got drunk what I meant was that I didn't get drunk. That was a complete lie. I work in a large office building and that behavior is frowned upon, so instead I chugged a coffee and took myself to an even worse mental condition than being drunk: Coffee Cracked Brain. Once I get a morning joe in me I become Bradly Cooper in Limitless. The terrible thing is that all the focus is wasted on redundant processing tasks and not the true genius that I have to offer this world. On a lighter note, Mario actually did rail a mexican chick he found at Home Depot. Gotta focus on the positives in life.

Fruit Cup Friday is usually the pre-cursor to another weekly event in my life I like to call Wacky Self-Destruction Weekend Time. If you are not familiar with one of these it is a pretty simple concept: Either drink yourself into pit of despair that will linger until Monday, or play video games non-stop for 72 hours. Both activities, though enjoyable in moderation, are taken to the maximum limits that my body will allow which is exhausting...thus Fruit Cup Friday was born out of necessity in order to be fully fueled and lubed for the approaching madness.

F - 1,984.1
A - 652.4
T - 1,975.1
T - 1,244.1


Who doesn't like a good fruit cup? Nobody. Well, maybe one person, there is always an exception.

Sausage, Eggs, and Hashbrowns

Breakfast, the most important meal of the the day. Have you ever seen a more delightful stack of things to put in your face so that your body can turn it into a slurry in your intestines in order for the nutrients to be easily absorbed into the body as energy, while the remainder is extracted of leftover vital moisture and compacted into a form of solid biological waste that resides in your colon until it can be expunged at a later time while you play Plants vs. Zombies on your phone? Well, maybe. Some biscuits and gravy would have been nice, or perhaps a bacon strip or thrice.

Breakfast is important because it can set your demeanor for the rest of the day. Let's dig deeper into this phenomenon by first dissecting the word "breakfast" itself: break-fast. Breakfast literally means to break your fast. If you do not know what fasting is, it means you are willfully abstaining from eating (If you do not know what abstaining means, please learn to internet, seriously, asshole). In this case our willful abstinence is sleep. If you do not sleep then you technically are not having breakfast, you are having 2nd dinner or some weird shit like that. By breaking our sleep-fast by eating we are letting our bodies know that everything is OK and food is abundant. Without breakfast our internal processing can remain in a pseudo state of conservation which is a survival mechanism to conserve energy in case we are unable to eat or find food. So do your body a favor and let it know it is not going to starve.

Once you have broken fast and your body goes out of survival mode the best thing to do is start drinking copious amounts of alcohol. That's right, get drunk. Why? That's a dumb question. In that case, why anything? After breakfast the absolute best thing you can do for yourself is drink, the reason is because I assume that your life is terribly dull and purposeless, thus you are doing yourself the highest kind of favor by using chemicals to make you forget your sad life. Drunken stupors tend to lead the body to shut down and sleep, inevitably you should wake up and then do you know what time it is again? Thats right, motherfucker: BREAKFAST TIME! It is a perfect circle. Don't question it. This formula that I have given you is similar to The Golden Ratio, or Pi, or the 23 enigma. I am your new Prometheus. You are welcome, human race.

Fun -1,489.7
Aroma - 2,178.6
Tastiness - 2,333.5
Texture -1,454.4

Sausage, eggs, and hashbrowns are a foolproof meal. These ingredients combined are a fucking unequaled delight among the pleasures of mankind. The "fun" and "texture" factors are average because a good breakfast will not deviate far from the three primary ingredients. AT MOST a person could add bacon. These ingredients are the core, everything else is secondary, tertiary, or worse. Don't even bring up pancakes. Fuck you if you even thought pancakes belong in the core. Waffles too. Bagles most of all. Grow up and start living a normal life you disgusting degenerates.

I eat breakfast with sharks. If you want to get ahead in this life you need to be a shark, you need to be a bloodthirsty savage. I suggest you get a similar Breakfast Caddy of your own if you ever plan on getting ahead in this life...

Hard Boiled Eggs and Coffee

When striving to reach peak physical condition it is of utmost importance to eat a well balanced, yet lean and wholesome breakfast. In my case this equates to two hard boiled eggs and a cup of coffee, served by the rage-filled soul of the wolverine.

If anyone on this planet understands the value of starting out your day with a routine bland breakfast it is the goddamn wolverine. The only difference betwixt myself and him is that he tends to eat his eggs unboiled and instead of brewing a pot of coffee he eats two handfuls of roughly ground coffee beans. If you you were thinking he just reached his hands into a bag of pre-ground Dunkin' Donuts brand coffee you would be wrong. Being the proud owner of a skeleton bonded with nigh indestructible adamantium alloy and foot long claws composed of the same, you can bet your ass that he grinds his own coffee beans with said claws. Have you ever used a Slap Chop? Well, he uses a similar method, only it is more of a punch chop. He is so angry.

Other than that we are the same. Wait, I forgot, he also eats the eggs with the shell still on. He just throws the whole fucking egg in his mouth and then howls at the morning sun while blood spills from his shredded gums. What a maniac. He is the father I always wished I could have had.

Fun - 2,500.0
Aroma - 952.8
Tastiness - 715.4
Texture -715.4

This breakfast was a bit of a paradox in that it received the first ever perfect "fun" score of 2,500.0, yet it received the lowest scores to date in the remaining categories. The fun levels were off the charts, obviously, due to the attendance of James "Logan" Howlett (Aka - Wolverine, Aka - Father). We had so much fun together! He wallowed in self pity and anguish, while I rambled on and on about how his standalone movies were the only good comic book movies because all the other "super heroes" are usually whiny bitches. Not you, Wolverine. Loneliness is your endorphin and rage is your solace.

Aside from my breakfast partner the breakfast itself was quite blah. What were you expecting, a witty write up about the virtues of a simple breakfast and the humbleness afforded those who live a life of little means? Fuck that. I'm poor. This is a poor man's breakfast. It's a good thing Wolverine showed up, he saved my whole goddamn morning.

Did I mention that I wore my wolverine costume while I wrote this?

Peppered Beef w/ Fried Rice

Peppered Beef w/ Fried Rice and Vegetables.

With the kinds of meals offered in the cafeteria where I work it is nearly impossible to have a productive afternoon. The main course is always something that will sit heavy in your stomach, force you to immediately and aggresively fall asleep at your desk, and then wake up with a bowel vibration that can only mean the end is nigh for you and everyone around you if you dont find a restroom asap. Don't misunderstand me, these meals are delicious 75% of the time, but all that flavor comes with a price...

Food coma. Everyone who has ever worked in a cubicle knows what I'm talking about, and we all have developed sleeping positions in our chairs that we think will deceive passerbys. There is the "one hand on chin other hand on mouse" position. There is the "leaning forward staring directly downword at the bar graph report, hand on mouse" position. And let's not for get the ridiculous "slouching back, head dipped heavily forward with hand on mouse" position. You see the common theme here? If your hand is on your mouse it should be obvious to anyone that walks by that your are working diligently trying to improve your customer service and quality scores. Is that a massive drool puddle I see forming on Tom's desk? Fuck it, his hand is on his mouse, he must be working his ass off getting those Q3 profit sharing estimates together. Why is Julie breathing so heavily and why is her face only two inches from her keyboard? I don't give a fuck. All I know is that she has her hand on her mouse and she is probably killing those Vendor status requests we need to have done by 3:30. Just the other day I walked past Antonio and he was leaning back in his chair, face pointed directly at the ceiling and eyes closed, snot bubble softly radiating out of his nose and a drool stream steadily flowing out of his mouth into his collar. Did I think he was slacking off on the job? Jesus Christ no! His hand was on his mouse for crying out loud! He was probably just meditating on the profitability projecions the Goldfield account will bring in over the next five years. These are hard working people!

Fun: 1,234.5
Aroma: 1,234.5
Tastiness: 1,234.5
Texture: 1,234.5

The FATT system of scoring lunchtime food-fair is very complex and has many intricacies that most humans would not understand even if they took a two semester collegiate course on it. For example, many of you may be wondering why today's meal received the lowest score to-date of all the meals featured on this blog? It's all in the symmetry, baby. Yes, high scores traditionally reflect excellent meals and low scores represent a sub par experience, however, this peppered beef demanded something more.

The beef was actually tender, juicy, think cuts of black angus. Every moist bite demanding more praise than the last. The sauce was of a perfect consistancy with just the right amount of pepper and brown stuff to make it amaZING. Yes, it had zing, bitches. The fried rice was so good it made me stop hating asian drivers altogether. The vegetables added color and flair, while also making me feel like I was doing my part to eat healthy everyday. All of these characteristics came together in a swan song of delightful taste bud erotica that I can only interpereted as the food version of "50 Shades of Grey". So, what does the score of 1,234.5 mean? Fuck if I know, but it must mean something awesome. Don't believe me? Read this review to your tongue and see if it gets goose-bumps. Ya, I know. Deal with it.

Chicken Tortilla Soup

Chicken Tortilla Soup and a Breadroll, ya.



It has been Exactley 126 days and 40 minutes, or more precisely, 10,888,800 seconds since my last post. With that in mind let me assure you that indeed I have been eating regularly in my humble little cubicle, I just haven't put forth the effort to post a single damn thing in over four months. Today's post should barely be considered a true effort but is an attempt by me to reignite my passion for writing critical and witty reviews concerning my cafeterias lunchtime fare. Todays specimen: Chicken Tortilla Soup.

What can I say? I had soup. It was good. My mind didn't explode but while eating it my mind drifted from the dolorous mechanisms of a corporate level insurance career to more fanciful idealogues about the future of mankind and the part I would play in its ever changing current. Basically, I daydreamed of winning the lottery, buying a huge acreage on the side of a mountain, and then turning it into a superfortress where I could engage in my various intellectual persuits in complete privacy for the rest of time. I say "for the rest of time" because I am nigh certain that I have within me the blood of the immortal warriors known as "highlanders", and with this blood I cannot die unless beheaded by another highlander in mortal combat.

I guess the soup was pretty good.

Fun: 2,458.3
Aroma: 1,912.3
Tastiness: 2,013.3
Texture: 1,799.3

Did you notice how all of the scores on the FATT table ended in .3? Me too. That's because three is a magic number. I encourage you not to question my logic further than that.

Now onto more important matters. From the meal pic on this post you may have noticed that there is a newcomer to my little review, his name is Stanley Johan McBroom. Here he is doing his two most favorite activities in the entire cubicle: Posing for the ladies, and cruising in his sweet 2007 Subaru Rally Car...





He'll be stopping by from time to time to assist with reviewing some of my more difficult to assess delightful delicacies, or to just shoot the breeze...and pose for the ladies. While he was here he sampled my chicken tortilla soup and let me know what he thought about it. Though his actual words were a bit too spirited for this corporately sterile lunch review, I have translated them thusly:

"The chicken was good." He has a way with words.

Leftover Pasta

Leftover pasta meatsauce pile from my neighbor, and mixed vegetables from me.



Free food equals glory, and this meal was free. I added the vegetation for added flair and it was delicious. If you read my post from 10/4/2011 you know that I hate buying steamed vegetables from any professional food preparation outlet (aka: restaurants, caterers, etc.) because they just taste like water, so I decided to try my hand at the mysterious art of cooking to see if I could do any better. All I did was spray some veggies with water, put them in a bowl with the pasta shitpile, then hit the 2min button on the microwave. You know what happened? They tasted fucking amazing. Thus improving my experience for todays lunch but still leaving me baffled why restaurants can't figure this shit out. The leftovers from my awesome neighbor were good too.

Fun: 1,954.4
Aroma: 1,811.7
Tastiness: 2,021.0
Texture: 1,845.2

This lunch was a double awesome because not only was it free, but I also took part in the cooking process...which has now made my ego inflate to truly extraordinary proportions. I know, I know, I can already hear you apes saying to your apeselves "But all you did was put some vegetables in the microwave! That's not cooking! DURRHUUURRRRPPP!" Well, apes, I looked up the definition of "cook" in the dictionary:

"cook  /kʊk/ Show Spelled[kook] verb (used with object)
1.to prepare (food) by the use of heat, as by boiling, baking, or roasting.
2.to subject (anything) to the application of heat."

Let's focus on number two here: "2.to subject (anything) to the application of heat." Not only does this verify that I literally cooked something, but it also implies that I may be a master chef, and if master chefs were ranked like martial artists I would be considered a sixth degree black-belt. According to this definition one could say I cooked my girlfriends vagina last night, or, after I cooked her vag and she didn't immediately make me a turkey sandwich I swiftly cooked the right side of her face with the backside of my hand. My god I love this cooking stuff...

Meatball Pizza

Slice of meatball pizza.



Anytime that I eat lunch and there is some sort of meat product involved it can be guaranteed that my opinions toward said lunch will be very biased. I love to eat the flesh of innocent animals, and when that flesh is ground up, peppered, then rolled into little balls and placed on top of a pizza it fills me with an almost euphoric sense of utter contentment. This occassion was no different. I got two boners while eating it. Very high scores all around. Nice work, company cafeteria!

Fun: 2,456.09
Aroma: 2,288.7
Tastiness: 2,489.7
Texture: 2,474.1

Combining meatballs with pizza was one of the most revolutionary ideas to come out of the 20th century. It makes me wonder if any of the recorded history that occurred before this creation is even worth remembering at all. Meatball pizza single-handedly brought about world peace and aligned all the religions of the world into understanding and tolerant groups of like-minded individuals, all seeking happiness, brotherhood, and enlightenment. Many of you may be calling me crazy right now, saying how the world is actually in a terrible state of confusion, hatred, and fear. You may be right, but only because you are adding to it by not enjoying your own slice of delicious meatball pizza and changing your outlook on life...

If world leaders would ever enact a national Meatball Pizza Day where no one is required to work, all that citizens had to do was enjoy their fill of delightfully playful meatball pizzas and share a slice of the same with less fortunate individuals in the community, the world would literally turn into a listful utopia of carefree, happy mammals overnight. Don't believe me? I challenge you to go to your nearest pizzeria and eat a slice of this beautiful wonder-food and not skip, clap and sing while doing so. You know it is impossible to even try eating meatball pizza without breaking into song. Admit it, you are humming to yourself right now just by reading about me eating a slice.

Stop sitting on your ass and complaining about everything, you assholes. Go out right now and eat some of this shit. It is amazing. Your happiness will undoubtedly have an affect on the people around you, and their improved demeanor will undoubtedly have an affect on the people around them, and so on and so forth. Start the revolution today. You don't even have to give me credit, all I want is world peace, and I don't think thats too much to ask...

Sofrito Pork Loin

Sofrito pork loin w/ spanish rice and mixed vegetables.



This meal was less than my expectations were expecting. The pork itself was good, the rice was ok and the steamed veggies tasted like water. I'm not sure why profesionally prepared steamed vegetables always lose all their flavor and end up tasting like water but it pisses me off. I do not know the first thing about preparing vegetables (unless they are on a frozen pizza or inside of a chicken pot pie that I am about to put in the oven) but I'm pretty sure I could make them better than this. How hard can it be to make something warm and a little soft while still retaining its savory essence? I guess only the wizards at the local culinary institute know for sure, and they keep that secrect locked up tighter than Obama's real birth certificate.

Fun: 754.1
Aroma: 1,123.2
Tastiness: 1,425.3
Texture: 1,045.4

Summary: Pigs are delicious animals. I really do not need to to say much more than that, but alas, I will. There are many people and jews out there who for various reasons will not eat pork. Some say that pigs are filthy animals and live in their own filth, rappers say they won't eat pigs because pigs are cops, etc, etc. These are all ludacris ideas, I mean does it matter if an animal lives in its own poop for the entirety of its life? It still tastes good, and you are not eating its poo covered hide, you are eating its tasty interior which its hide was protecting from the doodoo. Or, If a pig could somehow freakishly straighten its posture and begin walking upright, and then put itself through highschool, get a diploma, get a part-time job and enroll in community college, graduate with an associates degree in criminal justice, enroll in and successfully complete police academy, and finally get a job as a police officer to protect and serve the public...I wouldn't want to eat him either! That pig should be considered a national treasure! Hell, I'd even vote for him for county sheriff if he were to run for the position. So I must digress, the rappers were right. I would not eat a pig if the pig was a cop.

Chilli w/ Crackers

Chilli w/ crackers.



Boring lunch, you say? So be it. There were plenty of delicious looking options but sometimes you just want to keep it simple. I don't care what anyone says; chilli is the bomb and I could eat it almost daily. This particular bowl full of delight was unremarkable in the sense that there was nothing particularly unique about it. It consisted of ground beef, beans, peppers, tomatoes, and chilli powder, and nothing fancy or gourmet like kobe fillet mignon, or stewed turkey chunklet doodoo. Just plain chilli with crackers, and a crisp refreshing Pepsi Cola. Mmmmmmmm.

Fun: 456.7
Aroma: 1,789.8
Tastiness: 2,100.1
Texture: 1,454.4

Summary: Chilli is an American staple during the brisk fall months and today I was feeling like a patriot so I filled my cup, saluted the american flag, and headed to my glamorous cubicle to engage in a thorough review. There is nothing better in the fall when the temperatures are falling than some hearty chilli making your nose run from its spicey goodness. So what if I live in Arizona and the temps are still scraping on the 100's? If you live in a locale with a cooler climate and are only a few short months away from snow-covered icy highway disasters don't judge me for my superior choice of biome to call home. Today's cubicle lunch was delicious, though the fun factor was a bit low. Perhaps I could enhance the fun factor of this post by uploading a picture of the aftermath of this lunch later tonight when I violently donate its remains to the Maricopa County Water & Waste Management Division...

Turkey and Black Bean Enchiladas

Turkey and Black Bean Enchiladas w/ spanish rice, green beans, and corn.



Turkey enchiladas? Every Thanksgiving I shove more turkey through my bowel tracts than an NFL defensive line so I know damn well what turkey looks and tastes like. Whatever was inside of these enchiladas looked exactly like what you would find inside of any mexican food dish: delicious, scrumpcious beef, but The lady said it was turkey and I was too sleepy from a hangover to argue so whatever, let's eat healthy. When eating mexican food I sometimes go into a mindless trance and blackout for short periods until the meal is done. This time was no different. When I came back to my senses the food was gone, my shirt looked like I had used it for a diaper, and I was bleeding out of my ear. I consider a lunch like that a victory every time. I hope I didn't harm any of my co-workers in the process.

Score:
Fun: 1,735.9
Aroma: 872.2
Tastiness: 2,212.6
Texture: 1,007.7


Summary: I'm just trying to watch my figure. Ya, right. It's never been hard to go into a bar, dump a few drinks down some girl, and then get her home with you for a few hours (or minutes) of drunken sexual revelry, however, by eating healthy and watching your figure you can usually increase the visual/aesthetic quality of the girl you get. Sure there are fat dudes and ugly dudes out there who can still pull some pretty amazing tail from time to time, but by keeping a slimish waistline a regular fella can get the same girl for a fraction of the effort. Hell, no effort at all really, and that was where my head was at with today's lunch.

Everyone knows turkey is healthy or something, I think, I don't know shit about it except that it makes you fall into a drooly coma after eating it. Aparently healthy people eat it because it is low in fat and cholesterol. I have no clue. Though after eating it I did feel slightly more self righteous, and almost took a walk to the restroom just so I could stare at my sexy, healthy ass in the mirror for a while. Later, when I went to the breakroom to get a drink I passed three female co-workers and I'm almost positive I heard all of them whisper to themselves: "That motherfucker looks like he knows how to eat a healthy and well balanced lunch. I Should find out where he goes for happy hour, get there early, start doing shots so I drown all my pathetic female inhibitions about being a slut, and then let him take me home and have sex with me in all sorts of strange and disturbing positions throughout his dirty, musty apartment." I know ladies. I am a sexy, selfish, conceited, arrogant bastard, and I eat turkey and green things. Come get some.

Beef Burgandy

Beef Burgandy w/ zucchini and a squash thing.



This shit was glorious. I am a man and I like my beef. This delight had big chunks of cow smothered in some sort of gravy-sauce with carrots and green stuff, and a big ass chunk of some sort of squash. I don't know or give a shit what beef burgandy is (unless it is actually made from the beef of Ron Burgandy) but it was a true joy putting it inside of me. I punched this meal down my face with more tenacity than a Vietnamese hooker throating a platoon of US servicemen for money to feed her starving children and grandmother. I think I even started crying while I was eating it.

Score:
Fun: 1,344.0
Aroma: 1,114.8
Tastiness: 2,078.4
Texture: 2,142.3

Summary: I don't know if squash is a natural laxative but within the 10 minutes it has taken me to post this I could physically feel the entire meal slide from my stomach, to my small intestine, to my colon. I am honored by this kind of reaction from food. It is sort of like when you visit a park or go camping: Leave everything the same as you found it, and leave no trace that you were there. I can assure you that when I hit the bathroom there will be no trace of this meal left inside of me...it will be painting the inside of the bowl up to and including the underside of the rim.

My New Blog

This is a blog I decided to make while I was bored at work. Herein I shall do my best to document every meal that I eat from within the confines of my cubicle. I will also be scoring each meal using the FATT (Fun, Aroma, Tastiness, and Texture) framework which I have created specifically for this blog. FATT rates each meal using a precise 1 - 2,500 point system followed by a brief summary of my overall experience and thoughts during the consumption process.

If you have any questions or would like to know more about a specific meal please write your concerns in the comments and I will do my best to address them.