If you don’t know already, this is what McNuggets look like before they are actually made. In the description, the original poster writes about how many chemicals are added, the process in which this is created, and blah blah blah. In the comment field are the normal “I’M NEVER EATING THAT AGAIN! SO GROSS!” and “OMG, SO NASTY.”

Of course, this “NEVER EATING THAT AGAIN!” only lasts until it’s inconvenient to eat elsewhere, and then they’re back in line, getting that 20-piece of McNuggets because it’s on sale for $5 and the picture of Nugget goo has mysteriously faded from the person’s mind.

Look, I just don’t get the flat-out shock about stuff like this. Has anyone ever seen a McNugget in the wild? No. If you check out the butcher’s pic of a chicken, do you see an area labeled “Nuggets”? No. Then it’s safe to assume that it is made in a factory. And since it’s made in a factory, it’s safe to assume that it is doused with chemicals that have been deemed safe for consumption. Where’s the shock?

I mean, really, who has ever eaten a Swanson’s TV dinner and thought the veal was real? Or who the fuck has picked a goddam Crunchberry in the wild? Your Fruit Roll ups? Yeah, doubt that it was ever “real fruit.” That diet Coke you just had? Those Doritos? How about that popcorn? And yes, I think it’s safe to assume that most of us know that this chemically doused/manufactured food isn’t good for us. So again, how is this even news to anyone? Spend a few seconds thinking about this, and it’s pretty obvious that all of your food is probably not all it’s cracked up to be.

If you’re really *that* concerned about what you’re eating, here’s what I recommend that you do: Grow your own food. Period. Because even you folks that buy organic probably wouldn’t be too pleased if you saw how it was handled, and what is allowed to happen to it en route to the store where you buy it from.

In the meantime, please, just stop this nonsense. This shit is just food propaganda — “You should be a vegetarian because how these other foods are made is just gross!” Last time I checked, people are allowed to choose what they want to eat, when, and how much. And before you start, yes, I do know our country does have an obesity problem. But I’d much rather have too much food readily available than not enough any day of the week. Secondly, no one is forcing you to eat it. You know why processed food like this is popular? It’s easy and tastes good. Period. If it tasted like crap, very few people would eat it.

Now, if I only I could get a picture of a migrant worker picking his ass before he picks some organic produce to paste on Facebook …

So, when a friend of mine told me she needed a new computer, I offered to build her one.

Now, I enjoy doing things like this, mainly because I frickin’ hate the retail computers. They just load them up with crap software, and Lord knows I hate crap software. I mean, you already have enough that comes with your operating system (assuming you’re not going with some Linux build) … you don’t need more that essentially does what your machine already has software to do. If you want something different, you can add it on later. But the programs they put on these things … they are maddening, useless, and really, most people don’t even want all that extra shit on their machines anyhow.

She gave me a budget, and I worked with what we had. I would inform her about sales from NewEgg, and she would buy the pieces as she could. In the end, I put together a spiffy little i5 with 8g of RAM and a 1T drive. Loaded MS Office Pro (her request) on to it, some solid (free and good) antivirus programs, and bam, she was good to go.

What she didn’t expect was the desktop that I chose for her.

The DM I got from her on Twitter simply stated: “Thank you very much for the desktop. I fucking love unicorns.”

OK, so maybe I’m not the nicest guy in the world after all.

I can accept that.

I am, however, still laughing.

This year’s shenanigans started with some toy my nephew got that involves a giant ship and a shark whose mouth opens when you press his dorsal fin. My oldest nephew and sister started helping him put it together, and as always, interest lasted about 10 minutes before he was bored and doing something else.

That meant is was time for the adults to play.

As I was getting the first shot, my nephew saw that I was up to no good. He looked over and said, “Hey, are you taking pictures of the shark?”

“Uhhhh, maybe.” *click* “HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”

So, after the picture was shared and laughs went around, my sister got a look in her eye, and more pictures were taken…

The oldest nephew was a little bit horrified at watching his mom and I revert to being kids again. But he was also horrified that the shark mauled the tuba player, as he plays sax for Pitt’s marching band. My sister’s comment: “Oh relax — the saxophone player lived.”

The next thing you know, Nephew No. 1 had the shark and had it eating the Virgin Mary in the stable. My mom disapproved, so it ended up on top of an angel.

Then, to my surprise, Nephew No. 4 got into the act. He wasn’t as creative in his use of the shark, but he’s young … he has potential.

Then, as the night went on and the youngest 2 nephews started battling over toys, I was left alone with the shark. Since Nephew No. 4 kept getting a little whiney and saying “NO!”, I had the shark also say “No” in accordance to the conversation. Of course, I was using the voice of the Emperor from the scene where Mace Windu was about to kill him, and then he zaps the shit out of Mace and wins the day. The voice and the shark went together surprisingly well.

Eventually, I went full-blown weird, and told my sister that the shark wanted to eat the Messiah, because he heard that the Savior was tender and mild.

In the end, dinner was good, there was a lot of laughing and only mild blaspheming … so that’s probably as close to the true meaning of Christmas that my family will ever reach.

So, Merry Christmas to you and yours. And my friendly advice: Try to avoid the hot and spicy Messiah. Just sayin’.

The return address was “Santa’s Workshop.” My only clue to where it came from was on the postage, which said that it was shipped from Castle Shannon. (And who knew that Santa’s Workshop was based so nearby!)

I opened it up and found a package full of cookies and possibly bread (or brownies or something … I haven’t been daring enough to open it up).

Now, I figure this is from a person on twitter … especially because one of my coworkers, who roams in the same twitter circles as I do, also received the same kind of package at work.

Let’s face it … getting an anonymous gift can be fun, like if you participate in a Secret Santa gift exchange and you have a rough idea of the personalities of the people participating.

But mysterious Santa … well, that’s a different beast. Someone knows where I work, looked up my work address, found out which floor I was on, and then sent it to me.

I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love the idea and thought behind this delicious, delicious gift. It’s the basis of every other tween romance novel or chick flick for a reason … because it can be on the exciting side. But in this day and age of weird and batshit crazy people, getting a random package from someone claiming to be Santa can be unnerving.

I mean, remember during 9/11, when people were getting mailed anthrax in packages?

And even though I’m not hardcore in politics, I do work for a company that espouses right-wing ideology. How do I know that some far lefty didn’t decide to target me for an Exlax bombing? Hell, it could even be from an Occupy Pittsburgh protester who saw me dressed up as a reindeer and having my picture taken in their encampment during Santarchy. Oh wait, I haven’t written about that. I’ll talk about that later. But still, IT COULD BE THEM.

Mystery Santa has caused some controversy among my FB friends. I threw out a status update, and got varied reactions. Here’s some of the early comments:

Later comments ranged from “Oh, I see you got my baked goods made from feces” to flat out “There is NO WAY I would eat any of those.”

It does pose a morally interesting dilemma. Do you risk your safety over cookies that arrived at your office under mysterious circumstances, or do you say “Thanks but no thanks,” and toss out what could potentially be a package of perfectly good and delicious cookies? I imagine celebrities face this particular problem daily, with some taking the plunge (looking at you, Orsen Wells) and others tossing out the lot of them (looking for you, Calista Flockheart).

In the end, laziness won the day. I ate some. They are fantastic.

I’ll let you know if I manifest symptoms of anthrax later on.

It was inevitable. After ending my MMO career months ago, I have returned with the release of Bioware’s “Star Wars: The Old Republic.”

Being the ginormous Star Wars geek that I am, this should come as no surprise to anyone.

In fact, my first MMO was Sony’s Star Wars Galaxies … a game I loved and hated. It had so many good points that I’ve never seen done in any other game … and then Sony managed to screw everything up, and Warcraft came out … and that ended that. My Warcraft career lasted entirely too long … don’t get me wrong, I loved it … but I’m just not that into the sword/sorcery genre, so after awhile, meh. The only game I tried after other than Warcraft was Age of Conan, which sucked so hard that Crom should have come out of his mountain and killed everyone who had a part in that game.

So, when I heard Bioware was coming out with this game, I was excited. Really, it could have been a game where you make Wookies poop, and I would have been excited. So, naturally, I pre-ordered, and have been hooked ever since.

Now, I have to admit, it took me a bit to get used to things. First of all, I HATE HATE HATE games that “channel” you through a story. My PS3 was the Metal Gear Solid edition, and that game made me want to punch babies. I couldn’t do anything I wanted to do. I wanted to outflank the enemy or snipe bad guys, and it would bark at me that I wasn’t doing things the way it was designed to work. Fuck that. I ended it after playing it on and off for about a week.

And Star Wars is *similar* to this. Each class has it’s own story. The first time you hear it, it’s interesting. Start a character of the same class because you want to do something differently, and it’s all BLAH BLAH BLAH after that. You hit the spacebar to get through, but it’s super annoying. I liked WoW’s “click and accept” quest system, which if you’re playing catch up (like I always do), you didn’t have to waste an assload of time waiting for the movies to load. Age of Conan was similar to this, and it drove me nuts.

Speaking of Age of Conan, the graphics in SWTOR reminded me A TON of Conan. The kinda herky jerky movement. The way the avatar ran on the roads. This probably has more to do with my current machine, which *barely* can play the game. But, I’m putting together a new system (just waiting on the motherboard), and we’ll see if I still think the same way after I get it all going.

But after getting more used to the game, I’m actually beginning to absolutely love it. It has its bugs, but I’ve never played a game that didn’t.

The thing that really has me hooked is the Light Side/Dark Side aspect of the game. Here’s what struck me the other day — playing a good guy is super easy. Rescue the children, help the people, get the girl, accept their praise and thanks and rewards. Bingo bango bongo. Done and done. Don’t even have to think.

But the Dark Side … the Dark Side is tough. My Trooper is going Dark Side, just cause. I’ve threatened to shoot a child in front of a woman. I’ve been called a monster. Cruel. Callous. If you have a conscious at all, the game makes you feel bad about being a bad guy. And that’s awesome.

You can stay neutral and just be more of a mercenary, but I haven’t tried that route yet. In fact, there’s a lot to this game that I haven’t tried yet. Being held back by an old computer stinks. (Let me phrase it this way: If I walk into an enclosed area, my FPS drops to like 12, and it’ll take me 10 minutes to get out the bunker or single room house. And forget trying to play a melee class, or in a group. The complex at Menett Point took me probably an hour to get through what is likely a 15 minute quest.)

However, I can tell you that I probably will be hooked playing this game for the next 6 months (at least), and this could be the beginning of a brand new addition.

Thank you Bioware.

I think.

There is no way I could say anything any differently than any of them did, so, I opted to draw my first hand turkey since 1st or 2nd grade. Enjoy.

And yes, I did do a motivational poster on it, since I’m completely addicted to that app.

So, for my American readers, I hope you and your family have a great, and only vaguely insane family gathering. I hope you put on your eatin’ pants, and end up getting completely stuffed on great food. I hope you enjoy napping on the couch while listening to John Madden talk about turduckens.

For my readers in different countries: I wish you could be here to join us.

Happy Thanksgiving!

But, again, with adulthood taking up all my spare time anymore, I haven’t even been able to go that route.

Then a friend on Twitter (@omgitsjen) posted this:

Now, if you follow me on Twitter, Jill (@thelegendofjill) is a coworker who I constantly bicker with. She’s also sheltered to the point where she confuses Star Wars and Star Trek, thinks that “Smokey and the Bandit” is a Western, and insists that the pinnacle of cinematic masterpieces include the works of Will Farrell, Adam Sandler, and Chris Farley. When we go out, the whole night pretty much evolves into everyone bashing Jill for her being completely sheltered.

I still say that she isn’t sheltered, but that she is actually from a different planet and arrived on the Kecksburg Acorn. Google it. I called her Mork the other day, and she immediately said “WHO?”  WHO DOESN’T KNOW “MORK & MINDY”? BAM! ALIEN!

But back to the story at hand. After that first pic was posted, I HAD to know where to find the site that would allow me to create such pictures. She tweeted me the address (something like memegenator.com), and also mentioned there was an Android app for it.

App? APP!

I immediately downloaded it. While looking for it, I also found a “Motivational Poster” app, which I also snagged. Both were free.

I’ve been a 14 year old ever since. If you would have walked into the Troll Hole between 10:30-midnight last night, you would have seen me on my phone, giggling stupidly as all the creative synapses were firing again. I kept looking through my pictures, thinking about what I could make …

So, here’s a few fast ones that I created (Jill oriented, cause we were still picking on her). The motivational posters are all from using photos on my phone:

This one features @BigBaldy and @Pantster.

And there are many more. I’m holding back on a few, as I intend to break them out when various arguments/events break out on Twitter.

So, be warned … any photo that you throw out to the Twitters or the FB is now fodder for this warped little past time, as @Pam_Wow found out this morning…

It’s good to be a goofball teen again.

Honestly, since I entered the world of IT, I have become a news hermit.

But then the PSU scandal broke. I can no longer turn a blind eye to the news, or pretend not to hear it. Beyond the obvious reasons of why I can’t escape it, this is a bizarrely fascinating story, and people’s reactions to it are equally fascinating.

At first, I was angry because any story about pedophilia will send me into an internal rage. JoePa reported it to his bosses after he heard about it, so he fulfilled his obligation, as did McQueary. But I was still angry at them, because these guys did the minimum when it came to potentially protecting the welfare of kids. I mean, let’s face it … all JoePa had to do was call the police and have them investigate. He had a credible witness in McQueary. Have a 3rd party investigate, and resolve the issue once and for all. Yes, that meant that there was a chance that JoePa could have been fired back in ’02 and that PSU would have suffered a black eye. But at least his conscious would be clean, PSU could have put an end to this nightmare, children would have been spared, and everyone would have a chance to heal.

However, he opted not to go that route. He put in the report in the hands of others, and never followed through on it. Sorry JoePa supporters, that decision is irrevocably on him, and it was enough to cost him his job.

But then JoePa’s firing came. Trust me, I took no joy in watching it transpire. I sincerely wondered what he knew … because surely, a man so well respected could not have been in the know on what was really happening. Someone had to have lied to him, which is why he didn’t take a stand. In other words, even though I took a strong stand against Paterno, I will admit that there was some doubt lingering. He looked so befuddled when the firing came … like his kids just came to take his car keys away because he couldn’t safely drive on the roads anymore.

He just didn’t seem to get it.

And I kinda began to wonder if Sandusky had managed to play everyone exceptionally well.

But then there was a report today about Sandusky actively recruiting for Penn State in 2011. JoePa knew that Sandusky had been investigated in ’02, and more than likely knew Sandusky was currently under investigation. McQueary, recruiting coordiator, ABSOLUTELY knew about Sandusky’s actions. PSU also had to have known. And yet they sent a man, an alleged sexual predator and child rapist, to represent them and their football program, to minors.

Penn State University, your actions (and lack thereof) are appalling.

JoePa, any sympathy I had for you as a human being is irrevocably gone.

McQueary, there will be a special place for you in hell. A very, very special place.

For all of my friends who graduated from PSU and who whole heartedly supported them, I cannot even imagine what you are feeling. The man who was the cornerstone of your school and a source of pride absolutely failed you. I may have bashed you in the past, but it was all friendly rivalry stuff — I would have never wished this tragedy on anyone or their school. Trust me, I long for the day that this whole thing will be behind us, and we can go back to talking shit on each other. But sadly, I have a feeling that’s not going to happen for a long, long time.

Side note to JoePa: I’m sure during your 61 year tenure, you gave your players a speech or two about what it means to be a man, and rising up to faces challenges, no matter how big they were. And yet when confronted with your own personal challenge — what to do about a former coach accused of molesting children — you opted to sit down and pass the buck. Funny how you couldn’t walk what you talked.

They came, and they went. (Pun intended.)

“No mom, I’m not in a kinky sex cult.”

And yet, here I was saying it to my mom, whose friends had told her horror stories about the Furries, and she was … well, concerned.

The Furries say "Hello."

Let’s back this up a bit. As every Pittsburgher knows, the Furries hold their annual gathering here. Seeing people walking around with anything from a tail to tail and ears to full-blown get-ups that include heads with blinking eyes and animatronic mouths that open and close and noses that wrinkle is fairly common. So, Furry Watching has become a new event for a lot of us. Go Downtown, take pictures of them or with them, and generally watch them do their thing and be amused.

This year was my first year going down, and I was with my buddy Chris, who is a veteran Furry watcher. And honestly, we had a great time. The Furries folks are generally very friendly, always willing to pose for a camera shot and, in general, seem to be having a great time. Chris and I managed to sneak in to watch the Furries parade, and also walked around to see the convention center — it was a blast. It was kind of eye-opening, too. I mean, there were like 1,000 Furries with full-bore costumes going on, and over 30,000 there in attendance. Never could believe that there would be so many people there, and that I would be down watching them. I guess they were the second largest convention this year, only trailing the NRA. (And truth be told, I’d rather have the Furries back than those NRA assholes who kept gridlocking traffic downtown.)

Flash forward a few weeks later, and it’s my nephew’s birthday party. I’m talking to my brother-in-law about the whole thing. We laugh as we always do. I think nothing of it.

About a week later is when I got the call. Mom explains that she overheard me saying that I went to see The Furries. I say yes. She then says, “I have a question to ask you,” and then goes on with the usual claptrap that surrounds the group. “My friend says that they’re nothing but a kinky sex cult, and there’s Furries porn, and that some defecate into litter boxes and have the hotel staff empty them” …. That’s when I started laughing. I explained to her that there is a sex side to it, but for the most part, it’s just people who like dressing up as animals. It goes a bit deeper for some, but just like any group, you have your casual folks and your hardcore obsessives. I also told her that while there is, indeed, Furries porn, there is also porn for just about everything else, including the Smurfs, Cinderella, and just about anything else one can imagine. She seemed satisfied and to understand what I was saying.

“But I still have to ask you something ….”

“No mom, I’m not in a kinky sex cult. I mean, if I were, I think I would be a little more discreet than to talk about it at my nephew’s birthday party.”

She laughed, and that was that.

I still have no idea of what kind of man my mom thinks she raised.

Test Batch 1

Not every batch is a success.

So, I felt like I should experiment using kiwi. I grabbed a random bottle of white wine, fruit, and set to work. Except, to my chagrin, I had grabbed a bottle of dry white wine. You know what doesn’t help an experimental sangria? A dry wine.

The fruit I used in this was primarily apple, kiwi … and then I hit mistake No. 2: I added lemon.

Now, this wasn’t exactly horrible — it was definitely drinkable, but just not really … you know … good. But as always, I took mental notes, and here’s my observations:

1. Get a sweet wine for the base. Sounds like a no-brainer, but for a non-wine knowledgeable guy like me, write it down and remember it.
2. Kiwi sinks to the bottom. I think it’s trying to find its way home to New Zealand.
3. Lemon overpowers the taste of everything else, so if you add lemon, a little goes a long way.

Test Batch 2

I failed to take pictures of the sangria, so here's the awesome wings we had.

My friend @Pantster was having a BBQ for his girlfriend, and asked if I would make some sangria for it. Done and done! I made 2 different kinds: One that I call “Dreamy” and the other was “Lemonade.”

Dreamy:

Dreamy was a refined batch from the first batch of sangria I made. Here’s what I did:

1. Peeled/juiced 2.5 oranges. The other .5, I basically cut into small pieces for fruit in the mix.
2. Peeled/juiced half a lemon, half a lime.
3. Cut up 1 apple into tiny pieces, juiced another apple.
4. Cut up about a quarter of a honeydew. I juiced the shell, cause hey, why not?
5. Wine choice was a Yellowtail Rose, with a added splash of Yellowtail Riesling.
6. Added ice and half a liter of club soda before serving.

I let it all sit overnight. Let me tell you, it smelled great. It went over well at the BBQ.

Observations:

1. I added water to it while I let it sit overnight. This was a mistake, as after I added the club soda and ice, it washed out the taste. Still good, but not as punchy as it should have been.
2. Next time, adding more wine, and probably some cherries.
3. Going to marinate half the apple chunks in wine first, then add freshly cut apples 2 hrs or so before serving to give a crisper, cleaner taste.

How can you refuse the Presidente? (What I was drinking after the sangria was gone.)

Lemonade:

I’ve been toying with this idea for a little while. When I use the juicer to make lemonade, it’s just apple, lemon and water. I applied that basic principle to this sangria.

1. I used a 1 lemon: 2 apple ratio for the juicer. This particular batch was 1.5 juiced lemons, and 3 juiced apples.
2. I diced up the remaining lemon, and another whole apple.
3. I threw in about 1.25L of Yellowtail Riesling.
4. I cut up about 1/4 of a honeydew, added the fruit, juiced the shell.
5. About 5-6 hours before serving, I cut up and added 4 large strawberries.
6. Added 1/2 liter of club soda and ice before serving.

Now, personally, I didn’t like this batch. It wasn’t bad, it wasn’t great in my mind. I thought the lemon wasn’t pronounced enough of a taste, and the strawberries quickly overwhelmed it. However, the folks at the BBQ dug it — some saying they preferred it over Dreamy.

Observations:

1. Cutting up the lemon was a mistake. While people love eating the apple, biting in to the random lemon was a bit much for some.
2. Next time, I may do a 1:1 lemon/apple, and then juice 1 or 2 more apple for more of a lemon punch.
3. I’ll add the same amount of strawberries, but I’ll add them around 2 hours before serving.
4. Again, next time I won’t add water to it.
5. This one was made about 8 hrs prior to the BBQ — I may make the next batch like 4 hrs before the gathering.

(NOTE: When I say “juiced,” this means I’m actually using my handy-dandy fruit/vege juicer. Also, all apples are “Red Delicious” apples. I may try a Granny Smith in the mix soon.)