Archive for March, 2010
-
Online dating?
Online dating is such a farce.
I’m just sayin’.
Chemistry.com had a free communication weekend. Im not sure what that means – but I didn’t communicate with anyone. eharmony has the same thing all the time. I signed up for eharmony a really long time ago, but don’t ever return to the site because I have no desire to slog through the tons of random guys some lame ass computer program determined would be my perfect match.
I have a friend who met his wife on Match.com. He swears it works. The company swears it works. I just swear when I see all the losers that are perfect for me. I don’t see how a 5′4 guy who is divorced with five kids from four different women who makes less than 20K a year and enjoys NASCAR and beats small puppies. That’s not me.
So, I’ve determined that free communication is basically a chance for all us losers to jump into the baby dating pool, take a piss, then get the hell out as fast as possible.
-
It’s Not A Man’s Grill
My old grill died in a shower of flames and big ol’ “whoosh” of fire. Upon inspection of the strange and slightly terrifying noises – I found that the aging propane grill had rusted through where the propane is forced through the blower (Im not a grill expert so Im making this up as I go along). At that moment I was hit with a huge cosmic slap in the face – I need a new grill and I’m going to have to cook the the 12 pieces of chicken that are marinating in fridge on the stove – yuck.
The dead grill was about 8 years old, and bought by the ex after his first season of coaching. It’s appropriate that the grill chose now to enter the great grill heaven where it can romp with all the charcoal grills I’ve managed to explode through the years. It was time to employ and interview a whole new breed of grill. A much smaller and manageable grill which won’t take me 20 minutes and two pulled muscles to manhandle into the outdoor closet was the goal.
Off to Lowe’s I went today on a lark of just checking out which grills they had – because I was going to need to get my mechanical on if I had to put the grill together. I dragged my poor mother along for shits and giggles. I passed by the monster grills that could feed an army, and went to the cute, little one burner grills at the end of the row. I found it, and it was already assembled. Perfect.
Now, how to get it home, and here comes the annoying part. I stood in front of this grill for about 20 minutes – eyeing it one way then another, and then trying to decide whether it would fit into my mother’s vehicle. She kept saying “let’s get a man to tell us whether it will fit. A man will be able to tell.”
That pissed me off. I don’t need to friggin’ man to tell what i can and can’t smash and cajole and ram into the back of my mother’s suv. I told her it would fit and marched up to the counter and bought it. She was freakin’ out because she was worried it wouldn’t fit because a man hadn’t told her it would fit.
Oh, it fit, by the way – upside down and sideways, but it fit. I don’t need a man to tell me anything anymore.