Rose's Cantina

Once a week, usually on the weekend, I agree to eat a totally unhealthy dinner. It's a compromise, and I'm usually disgusted by the outcome. Last night, we ate a Buffalo Wing-style pizza from McCain and chicken wings the size of nuclear test turkeys. It was a totally bleach blonde mess with not one speck of green. Don't get this brand of pizza, I'm warning you. It is the most disgusting piece of shit I've had in sometime. The only discernible taste is that of Frank's Hot Sauce, which apparently is its selling point. The wings weren't bad, though they were breaded to look not unlike Arnold Schwarzenegger, all puffed out like peacocks, bursting with water and steroids. Because I eat healthy, my palate is not used to such excesses of salt, sugar and Frankendough, which usually leave me with a hangover that can be vanquished only by a gallon and a half of water at 3 a.m. As I said, the Saturday Night Special is a compromise, my effort to appease the...

Scott has been out of work for four months. He quit his job because going there made him throw up in his mouth. For four months, he's been job-hunting. Nothing in his field. No call backs, not even from McDonald's. Yesterday, he decided to go back to doing what he's been doing for the past four years. Selling cars. He sent his resume out. He got 15 call backs in less than two hours. Got 15 job interviews. Will start his new job on Saturday. Yay! The man needs a job. He hijacked my television for four months. Played video games incessantly. Chewed my ear off. I now have my television back. No more listening/watching to men with bad English accents, in questionable attire, offing monsters. No more buying groceries with Air Miles from the liquor store. There is peace in my time. Groceries in my belly. To celebrate, here's a video I think you'll enjoy. I'll give you a cookie if you watch it all the way through. Two if you figure it out.  ...