Day 2 (okay, it’s day three, but I was busy on day two…)

So I previously posted about this new “getting healthy” plan from my insurance company and how I’m supposed to answer these stupid questions everyday for a week or so.  Today’s question:

Day 2:
My relationship to my body
“If my body could talk to me, what would it say?”

I think my body would say, “Damn stupid mother-fucker!  What the fuck have you been doing to us?  Is there some kind of reason you’ve been putting us through this horrible abuse for the past 20-something years?  You don’t eat right.  You smoke like a blown radiator on a cold day.  You don’t sleep nearly enough to keep me even slightly happy.  What gives?  What did I ever do to you?

“Oh, that’s right, I only make sure you’re lungs work (even though you treat them like shit…what kind of asthmatic smokes a pack or two EVERY FUCKING DAY?) and your heart beats and your food gets digested… Oh… Wait…  Are you pissed off because I refuse to be happy with eggs and milk products again?  Well too fucking bad you little shithead!  Daddy’s gotta get his revenge somehow, right?  You treat me like shit, I’m gonna make you feel like you’re gonna shit your pants every time you eat something that tastes even remotely good.  Don’t like it?  TREAT ME BETTER!

“Remember that ex you wish you’d treated better?  That one you wish had never gotten away?  I’m gonna be like that.  Now our spine’s fucked up.  You may or may not have had a myocardial infarction AT TWENTYFUCKINGTHREEYEARSOLD!  Haven’t you learned anything?  SLOW DOWN!  CALM DOWN!  Enjoy the ride we’re on.  Take care of us!  Eat better and exercise!  And for the love of all that is clean and fresh QUIT FUCKING SMOKING!”

At least, that’s what I think the world wants me to think my body would tell me.  I think it would simply say, “DUDE!  REALLY?  GET US FUCKING LAID ALREADY!”

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It ain’t no Pepsi Muffin

While it may not be as good as nibbling on a muffin, Pepsi flavored or otherwise, it’s still insanely tasty and just happens to be this weeks blog post!

What is it?  Why, it’s Kung Pow Tofu, of course!  Now, I understand some people might be all, “That’s not Kung Pow!  Peanuts do not a Kung Pow make!” and to them I reply, “Well, what is Kung Pow other than the hardest thing in the world to eat with chopsticks?”

It’s simple, really.  All you need is:

1lb well pressed Hard Tofu (Chinese or Cotton tofu)*

1 small package frozen broccoli florets

sracha sauce

chili garlic sauce

peanuts

soy sauce

oil

In either a wok or deep skillet, sauce pan, or whatever it is you happen to prefer cooking something in, heat some oil.  I happen to prefer spicy sesame oil as it’s, well, spicy.  None of that woosy olive oil for me, no sir, I like my taste buds to bleed.  Crumble to tofu into the oil.  Follow the microwave directions for the broccoli, but only cook it halfway or so.  Basically, kind of follow the instructions, but pretend your extremely stoned and hungry and too impatient to wait the 8 or 9 minutes for it to cook.

Add some soy sauce to the tofu, and maybe a little salt or whatever.  I think soy sauce is plenty salty, and my food is delicious.  Trust me.  I have about 50 pounds to lose, so I must know good food.  Stir it around every couple of minutes.  You want it to be nice and kind of golden brown or whatever.  It doesn’t really make a difference to me if you want to eat it raw.  Hey, it’s your dinner, not mine, but I happen to like my tofu nice and cooked thoroughly.  When the timer goes off on the broccoli put it in with the tofu.  You may have to drain the broccoli.  The directions on my store brand said so, but you ritzy people with your name brand broccoli might not have to.  And while you’re at it, send some extra money my way.  Or, better yet, stop being so full of yourself.  It’s a freaking vegetable.  What difference does it make if you spend an extra $1.50 on it to get the name brand versus the store brand?  It’s all G-d’s brand, anyway!

Next, add that garlic chili sauce to it that you find in the ethnic aisle at the grocery store.  Stir everything around a bit.  You probably didn’t add enough, so add a little bit more along with some sracha so everything is coated nice on top, and then stir everything around a bit more.  Then add some peanuts and sesame seeds or celery or whatever.  Then stir it around some more.  Put it into a vessel and consume.

I’d post a picture of what it should look like, but I ate my portion.  Besides, this post is about cooking, not eating.  Maybe next week I’ll post the follow-up with strict instructions on how to consume the amazing food I just explained how to make.

*Remember, folks, Bing is your friend.

Holy shit I MUST meat these people!

So I had this insane craving for a great burger on Wednesday. The only place I know that’s still open and has great burgers and isn’t some corporate shittrap closed before I could get there and I got stuck eating at McDeath’s. The good part of this story is that, through my amazing powers of Google Fu I discovered AN ENTIRE BLOG DEDICATED TO BURGERS IN SAN ANTONIO! I MUST meet this cult of meat worshippers and partake in their activities of meat worship! It is now my newest life’s goal!

My prior life’s goal was to successfully become vegan. Yes, I realize that does not make sense, but what about me actually does make sense?

And, whoa, I finally met this guy I’ve been talking to for almost two years, yet hadn’t actually met in person. It totally sucks how life gets in the way of things sometimes, but it finally happened. The really odd part is it turns out he lives on the street behind me.

It was kind of like that time I met a chick in Savannah, Ga after living there for only a few months who was from Texas. The entire conversation went something like this:

Me:  So you don’t sound like you’re from around here.

Her:  I’m not, I’m staying at the hotel next door for the time being.

Me:  So where are you from?

Her:  Texas.

Me:  Heh, how tired are you of people asking about your pet horse and why you’re not wearing your hat and spurs?

Her:  OMG!  I can’t stand you people with that!  Texas isn’t like that at all!

Me:  I know, I grew up in San Antonio.

Her:  No way, so did I!  I’m from the North West side.

Me:  Really?  So am I!  I lived in [insert name of neighborhood here]

Her:  Really?!?  I lived on [insert street name in aforementioned neighborhood here]

Me:  No shit!  I lived on [insert name of street behind aforementioned street in aforementioned neighborhood here]

Her:  I was [imaginary house number]

Me:  Holy crap, you lived behind me!  What’s your name?

Her: I’m [insert name of childhood friend’s sister]

Me:  Holy crap, I was friends with your brother!

Then I met a whole slew of people over the next couple of years who all lived around me and/or went to school with me.  I always thought the idea behind moving far away from where you grew up was to escape the people you knew before.  And now that I’m back in SATown, I’ve run in to bunches of people I was in extremely close proximity to in Savannah, one lady even shopped in the grocery store where I worked and we HAD AN ENTIRE CONVERSATION YEARS AGO!  How creepy is that?

So I guess it really is a small world after all!