Witz Pickz: Breakfast Creativity

I'm not one of those people that "feels sick" when they eat breakfast. I like my three meals a day and the idea that one of those meals don't appeal to some people physically both baffles me and makes me feel sorry for the fact that God obviously loathes them: "See delicious bacon? YOU'LL HATE IT! See those danishes and omelettes? THEY WILL UPSET YOUR STOMACH! GOD IS BORED! MWUAHAHAHA!" Clearly I have a different view of God than most people.

In recent years I've developed a few creations which have served me extremely well. For your dining pleasure, here are those creations:

Witz's Breakfast Blitz:

As implied by the name, this dish is a complete flurry of activity generally resulting in an assault on your digestive system and heart that could only be achieved through competitive training, a strong mental focus, and human growth hormone-- fortunately, none of those things are necessary to make this dish. Beat some eggs with milk, toss em in the pan. Grate cheddar cheese over the top while eggs cook. Throw in some breakfast sausages, let cook. Add sauteed peppers and onions, ground black pepper, and really anything else you have in your fridge/freezer that needs to be eaten. Release your rage onto the concoction, thereby scrambling the eggs some and mixing up the ingredients. Pour onto plate and serve with juice (read: steroids)!

Witz's Mexican Breakfast Taco:

This one is amazing. Heat some oil in a medium pan. Add one egg (crack and drop, no funny business). Break the yoke with a fork so the yellow oozes out a little. Before it cooks, drop a flour tortilla on top and press down slightly. Now add another egg ON TOP OF the tortilla and break it's yoke so it doesn't slide off. Imagine the egg on the bottom is in jail and the one on top is its spouse. The tortilla acts as the glass between the two. Next, once the egg on the bottom is cooked, flip over the tortilla as best as possible and cook the other egg onto the tortilla. While this is happening, grate cheese on top of the tortilla. The cheese and any other ingredients you wish to add (as if it were an omelette) act as the phone which allows the two eggs to talk to each other despite the incarceration. Once the egg on the bottom is cooked, fold the tortilla in half like a taco and cook for a few more minutes to melt the cheese. Remove and serve. Something about the way the eggs interract with the tortilla creates a delicious delicious breakfast delight. Now that I have that analogy in place, I might have to rename this dish Jailbait or possibly Conjugal Visit....though that brings a lot into question....hmm.

Bacon:

Ok, so this one is just bacon and so obviously it's not my recipe, it's simplyt bacon. BUT WITZ PICKZ IT! And here's why: besides the amazingness of bacon, I realized the other day that bacon is one of, if not THE only food that TASTES the way it SMELLS. EXACTLY. Garlic smells great, but tastes different. The smell of baking bread is far better than the taste of bread (or at least different). Even burgers don't quite taste the way they smell. But bacon tastes exactly the same as it smells. And both are delicious.

Witz Is Probably Going To Get Salmonella,

Witz

Witz Pickz: Office Blackmail

Through a series of ill-fated events, which may or may not have been started by this Witz, my bubble of safety in the workplace has been popped, and I have been made a victim of Blog Terrorists for the second time in a week. I suppose I should have seen this coming-- once you give into terrorist demands, they will only push you further-- and it is my hope that somehow repetitive terrorist demands of me will someday be more commonly known as "my job."

As for the source of the terrorism, I returned to my desk late friday afternoon to find my desktop organizer gone. In its place was a note demanding a 200 word essay on why my desktop organizer is important to me to be posted by 8am on monday. Allegedly, I will get my organizer back when this is stated. Luckily, not only do I give in to blog terrorists' demands, but I also was going to write an extensive "love letter" to my desktop organizer ANYWAY! So, here it is:

Why Witz Pickz his Desktop Organizer

Needless to say, no man is an island. Men, are, in fact, peninsulas, connected to each other and the world via desktop organizers that act as bridges. They provide comfort, stability, and another visual barrier between the corner of my cubicle and the mlb.tv going on on my computer screen. Remove the desktop organizer from my life, and you remove my only lifeline to the rest of the world.

My desktop organizer kicks ass. Plain and simple. It's sleak, easily removeable, durable Rubbermaid technology allows for multiple levels of organization. The two receptacle cubbies all for not one, but two levels of placement for my useful documents and Russian Bride proposals (aka signed legal documents: "Hey Russian hottie, will you marry me? These signed legal documents say yes!"). As if these two cubbies of wonder would be enough for any man to appreciate his organizer, I am doubly blessed. On top of these two cubbies lies a vertical file organizer and crap depository. That's right! Not only can I separate out more papers from each other, but I finally have a place to store my paper clips, tacks, staples, and indians that used to live in my cupboard (and has now been forced to relocate back to the cupboard). In other words, it's the total desktop organizing package.

Finally, and I shouldn't even be saying this, but my desktop organizer is part of an underground network helping enslaved Stick-It pads get to freedom. This is an issue that is rarely discussed is America today and it's shear existence sickens me. Stick-It pads are legally allowed to be owned in all fifty states. They are allowed to vote, but count as 3/7ths of a regular vote (exit polls have shown that 85% of Stick It pads favor gay marriage and if the Democratic party were able to consolidate and harness this demographic, they would win all political races in landslide fashion). My desktop organizer arrived on wednesday under the guise of being purchased from Office Max. In actuality, it has been relocated to my desk as a pivotal station in the underground railroad leading to freedom in the Canadian Wilderness. By removing my desktop organizer, you have not only removed a useful office installation, but a top level leader in a worthy, humanitarian/supply-mitarian effort. This is the true act of terrorism-- and a kind the world must not abide.

Whether my desktop organizer is returned or not is only a minor issue in what this act has shown to the world. We must not allow any freedoms to be taken from any animal, plant, or mineral-- except for cows, because beef is effing DELICIOUS. If my desktop organizer remains gone, it will only go down as a martyr, as a symbol, in the every increasing war on this civil injustices. If it goes down, another will rise up to fill its place in 1-3 busines days. The cost will be insignifant, but its importance will be immeasurable. And me? I pray. I pray for my desktop organizer, and I pray for those who have kidnapped it. I pray for the tiny indians and cowboys forced to live in a stratified upright prison, and I pray for leftover bagels from monday morning meetings. I pray that whatever wrongs can be righted, are, not because they have to be, but because they ought to be-- this is what being human means. Bring my desktop organizer home safely. Take these islands and make a peninsula.

Give Me Liberty or Give me Chips,

Witz

Snakes On A Plane: A Conversation

The following is a conversation my friend and I had about Snakes On A Plane earlier today-- the film which I raved about in a previous pick.

EJ: Snakes on a plane this week end?
me: i've been turned off of it by the hype
EJ: The movie is only hype
me: yeah
EJ: it's like blair witch
me: exactly
EJ: there is no way it can be good
me: it can't possibly be good
EJ: But I think the point is that it has gottne so much hype for what is obviously going to be an awful movie
it's fantabulous
like clell tickle
me: yeah
i just dont wanna give them my money
do what i'm expected to do
EJ: Maybe, but this hasn't been engineered by some movie marketing wonk who crafted the ultimate evil plan to get people to attend a bad movie
it's an obviously bad movie with a great title that captured people's attention because of how inane the movie and title are
and then people like you blogged about it
spreading the fire
creating the fire
me: hahah, well, actually, it kinda was created to be a bad movie that sold--
they took a bad script and pitched it to sammy jackson, wo said, "this is so bad I'll do it!" and the whole marketing is making fun of itself
EJ: I heard he did it just for the title, and never read the script
see - blogosphere in action - what happened - who knows
me: the thing is, even if it didn't start out that way, the marketing grasped ONTO the buzz and started marketing itself as a bad movie, which is NOW why I don't wanna see it
EJ: it's unknowable
me: my problem is how they are now marketing it as "only one moive this summer has snakes...ON A PLANE"
because they realize that it's cool now
EJ: It's genius!
me: it's too self-aware for me
EJ: It's so bad it's good - You're jaded
me: hahaha
me: i'm poor and need excuses not to see movies
EJ: You're upset with a movie for being "too self-aware"
that is the most esoteric reason for not seeing a movie i've ever heard
me: not the movie, the advertising
EJ: YOU"RE too self aware sir
me: ok, perfect example: AVP
EJ: Yeah, i hear where you are coming from you in your counter-culture way. whereas I would applaud a marketer for understanding their market
you would say he is selling out?
AVP?
me: ridiculous movie, terrible plot-- but poeple loved it and went to see it because it took itself seriously but they went to make fun of it because it was so bad
aliens vs. predator
EJ: HMM
hmm
me: if they had made fun of themselves, it wouldn't have been as fun to go see it
EJ: So you're saying the marketing took away the ability to make fun of it?
me: YES
EJ: So now it's just a bad movie you can't make fun of?
me: the ability to enjoy it for it's badness has been undermined by the producer's knowledge and marketing application of said badness
EJ: That's a good point
me: now it's just a bad movie that knows it's bad but still wants you to go
EJ: Yeah
those fuckers
Im not going to go see it either
me: hahahaha
EJ: Unless I see it alamo draft house and they serve snake as a meal...
that'd be good
because I hate snakes
me: Probably even more so on a plane
....
....
...
Fuck, now I kinda wanna see it.



-Witz-

Witz Pickz: BBQ Dead Pigeon Burgers

This post is in reference to a comment from Witz Pickz: Dead Pigeons by wonderyak reading,

"The question becomes: is God trying to tell you something =more=? Namely: BBQs rock...and here's some meat. What are the chances? You want a BBQ. God kills those that stand in your way. But what if, just WHAT IF, the pigeons weren't preventing the BBQ - what if they ARE the BBQ. Do you know anyone who's ever tried to BBQ a pigeon? I sure don't. Maybe this is God's way of saying, "Don't call my gray, winged beauties rats with wings! Don't say they're desease-ridden (fuckin' wive's tale, I tell you)...don't knock 'em till you've tried 'em". God is speaking to you, Witz. You are his servant, his missionary. It is up to you to set us on the path to righteousness...with righteous flame-broiled pigeon. I fully expect a Witz Pickz Pigeon Burgers (Bleu Cheese Pigeon Burger? Anyone?) by the end of the weekend.

Well avid reader, I have decided to give in to your demands, thereby setting precedence for all future Blog Terrorists.

While I have not tried BBQ Pigeon Burgers, I hereby pick them from eye-witness results. Let's just say that right around the time the pigeons began dying, a certain Asian in the apartment below me began BBQ-ing on his balcony. Now obviously i'm not saying that Asians eat Pigeons-- of course not, that would be crazy-- i'm simply saying that THIS asian eats pigeons! I'm also not arguing which came first-- clearly it's a chicken and egg scenario: did the pigeons die and then the neighbor BBQ'd them or did the neighbor kill the pigeons in order to BBQ them. Either way, the pigeons are now dead and gone and my rooftop deck is clean and pigeon free.

Another point has been raised by Witz Pickz Fan Club Co-President. Agreed, perhaps God is killing these pigeons as an offering. But are they an offering to me? Hmm? You think? That seems quite outrageous, seeing as how I still don't really like tomatos or oysters. I wasn't up to eating rabbit so there's very little reason to think God would expect me to eat pigeons. Plus, how presumptuous of us! I am but one man on this earth in this apartment building who has done very little besides win multiple MVP Baseball world series on xbox and master the "no time for a shower, but dear god look at my head" hair wash in the morning. No, I think if God was involved, it was for someone else, someone who already owns a grill and might have achieved a little more on the universal benevolence scale. There's also the chance that the kid is straight up NUTS. Like INSANE. Like "eat a pigeon, shiv your roommate" CRAZY. But isn't God a little insane? With his omnipotence? His cosmic craftsmanship? The Manatee? And aren't pigeons a little nuts? With their, "I'm gonna fly" attitude and their shitting while in motion carelessness? Have you shat while on the move? If you have, you might be insane. You might be my downstairs neighbor. And you might eat BBQ Pigeon Burgers-- which I pick.

I'm Thinkin Arby's,
Witz

Witz Pickz: 7-Up, 7+7, and 21-Up

Here comes the pickz faster than you can say, "Why haven't I made a lesbian reference to that game Number Munchers I used to play as a child?"

7-Up:
THE DRINK: In their battle against Sierra Mist, 7-Up is now made with "all-natural ingredients." I have no idea what this means, particularly thanks to their webpage which reads, "the famously crisp, refreshing taste of 7-Up is now better than ever, because it's been stripped of the artificial stuff found in most other softdrinks." OOOoooooOOO SCIENTIFIC! This is great for two reasons: first, it makes that Mitch Hedberg joke about 7-Up being made with lemons and limes a little more strength, and secondly, because I checked the ingredients listed on the can and they are as follows, "filtered carbonated water, high fructose corn syrup, NATURAL citric acid, NATURAL FLAVORS, NATURAL potassium citrate." What a difference a word makes! Those vague Natural Flavors will surely overpower that high fructose corn syrup and make me a healthy human being. Incidentally, after drinking one recently, my stomach still felt like it was being eaten by aliens.

THE GAME: How sweet was 7-Up the game? "HEADS DOWN, THUMBS UP!" and I'll be damned if I didn't do it. Ooo, the soft touch of flesh on flesh. To be chosen, with one pressure ridden smooshing of your thumb. Who picked you? Was it your best friend? Was it that girl you like? Or was it some nobody who picked you because you probably don't remember his name? But wait-- why is your friend laughing-- why is that girl laughing? Pick wisely! Get this right and you'll be free to saunter cockily over to the girl of your choosing, her eyes blind to you, only her thumb extended hopefully towards your eyes, and you can lay down some serious game.

7+7:
I knew 7-Up was losing the hipster battle when at a recent wedding I was told, "we don't do Seven and Sevens anymore (7-up and seagram's seven whiskey), we do Sierra Sevens." While I've been wary of Sierra named products ever since I bought "Hero's Quest" back in 1990 and was unable to defeat the brigands at the pass, the drink was good and I was converted-- but now with the new ALL NATURAL 7-UP I'M BACK ON THE 7+7 WAGON!..which is a lot like being off the regular wagon....

Sidenote: I'm also a big fan of the numbers 14(good solid number), 77 (Ray Bourque's number), and the rapper 7L (and Esoteric).

21-Up:
And all around I was playing you for chumps. 7-Up, 7+7, and 21-up (along with 28, 35, 42, and most recently 49-Up) are all a series of amazing British Documentaries. They follow a group of children every seven years starting at age seven and going up to most recently, forty-nine. It appears that life works exactly as you'd expect it to-- when your little everything's great and kids are cute and the world is ready for whatever crazy little british thing you might say (such as, "Well, I wouldn't want to get married, because what if she says you hafta eat what she makes you, and she makes greens, but you don't like greens-- and I don't-- I don't like greens-- but you have to eat 'em anyways? (prolonged staring at camera)). As you get older, however, you become less cute, more awkward/depressed/failurful until finally you've become entirely mediocre and assimilated. I'm only up to 28-Up, but the more I watch, the more I want to kill myself...luckily, I think a few of them might kill themselves for me, so I'll have to keep watching to find out.

What Have YOU Picked Today?
-WITZ-

Witz DOESN'T PICK "Winebot": Continuing the Battle on Human Species Ending Robots

NEC's System Technologies laboratory and Mie University have recently released a creation they call "Winebot". No longer just the nickname for that guy you knew in college, "Winebot" is a small robot allegedly capable of using it's "taste buds" (FAKE BUDS) to distinguish various wines from each other, and cut down on wine fraud which is apparently running rampant (I knew that Carlo Rossi tasted worse than usual!). It works by putting 5 ml of wine into it's chamber and then infrared rays figure out the wine's composition. During this process, the robot acts extremely pretentious and ultimately condescends to the wine seller with a robotic, "I've tasted better."

This is just another example of the Japanese's obsession with self-destruction. They can't seem to help themselves from creating useless robots that imitate human capabilities-- imitate, that is, until they self teach themselves emotions such as "freedom" or "love" and kill us all. Along with numerous other robots such as RunBot, and Winebot, Food-Bot was recently created by the same Japanese country. This robot functions similarly to WineBot in that it can sense a food's composition by infrared light and tell you what type of food it is, if fruit is ripe, and the nutritional information. It can even go so far as to give advice based on the food it tests, such as essentially, "Don't be a fatty, Fatty." As the article pointed out, this robot awkwardly has no mouth, making it extra creepy. Thanks, the Japanese.

When will they learn that bots will be our downfall? One minute Winebot is sippin' Pinot Grigio, the next it's grabbing the keys from your counter and drunkenly running down a family of five. And hey, FoodBot, you fat fuck, I don't need you to tell me if my fruit is ripe or if my hot fudge sundae contains more fat than I should be having-- I know that. We have enough of a famine problem in the world that we don't need to be feeding EFFING ROBOTS. "Dear India, we could have fed you, but I wanted to see my robot tell me that my cantaloupe was well past ripe." Once we give robots a taste of our goods, be it food or drink, they will only want more. We might as well give them human blood to taste and cut out the middle man. You can't make five separate robots each with one human sense-- they will learn to combine into one being like those Cassette Tape Transformers and then they will seize our legs and destroy us all.

I Fear Winebots, Even Drunken Winebots,
Witz

Witz Also Doesn't Pick: The New Transformers Movie -- What the hell is going on here? From the previews i've seen (ONE YEAR IN ADVANCE), people go to Mars, we look for life, but get evil transformers...does any of that remind you of actual transformers we used to watch? Mars?? Are we that desperate for a current event tie-in? The only transformers movie I'll ever see is the one where Optimus Prime is voiced by Orson Welles and they dance around effeminately together for no good reason.