For those of you who are familiar with the Casa de Fruta establishment along state route 152, you know that they are a bunch of filthy liars.
If you are called Casa de Fruta (House of Fruit, Fruit House) then you better damn be a only a house with fruit in it. Yet, these Fruta people have the nerve to not only sell fruit, they also have an abundance of other attractions. Including a Chevron station, restaurant, train station, bird cages, pie house, and other stupid things. If they were honest and didn't want to be accused of false advertisement, which they should be, they would be called Casa de Fruta y casa de Chevron station y other establishments that are muy estupido.
Sorry, I know this doesn't seem like a big deal, but it is.
If Mcdonald's started to sell Persian rugs along side their burgers, their would be a mutiny on their hands and someone would pull an "Old Yeller" on Mr. Ronald McDonald. Unless of course they called it Mcdonald's burger place and Persian Rug Emporium.
I don't want much, just honesty in my fruit sales.
Saturday, September 13, 2008
Friday, September 12, 2008
Funky Brewster
A couple of weeks ago. My roommate and I were wizarding around town the other day, when we noticed a vacuum shop off in the distance. Before we go any further, if you happen to be unfamiliar with wizarding it is nothing more than roaming about town while wearing a cape and/or wizarding staff. Staff's vary in size and power ability but even the feeblest of staff's can catapult you into being considered "one who wizards about town", or even a "wizarder."
Anywho, as we were wizarding about town, we stumbled upon (due to our long cape) a small vacuum shop. This shop was not very easy on the eyes. In other words if it were a person, we would tell our friends that he/she was "nice" rather than "gorgeous." Upon entering we realized that once you made your way past the vacuums, you entered into a world of Beer. Beer making supplies covered the walls. Different types grains and hops and whatnot were within inches of our fingertips. So rather than backing out honorably, we marched out of the shop with 60 dollars worth of items that might go horribly wrong since they had now been put in the wrong hands.
Getting home, my roomate and I were dumbfounded at the process of making beer. It seemed to me that nothing good can come from liquid sitting in a bucket for two weeks. Yet, we proceeded to cook our ingredients believing in our hearts that we were doing good for our country. Once we poured our ingredients into the bucket, our house smelled as though 30 ailing cats somehow managed to find their way in our house and die. Some of these cats I presume must have also recently caught fire since there was no way to account of the smell of fur and charcoal.
After a taking a short breather and a chance to rationalize and cope with what we were doing, my roomate and I let the beer sit.
It is still sitting to this day. I have no idea how it is going to turn out. My other roomates wonder when these childish antics will cease, yet we haven't even tried our first batch and we have already commenced on our 2nd and 3rd batch.
If you would like pointers on the beer making process, ask a professional.
If you would like to be a guinea pig, call us.
If you would like no part of this asinine behavior, more power to you.
Anywho, as we were wizarding about town, we stumbled upon (due to our long cape) a small vacuum shop. This shop was not very easy on the eyes. In other words if it were a person, we would tell our friends that he/she was "nice" rather than "gorgeous." Upon entering we realized that once you made your way past the vacuums, you entered into a world of Beer. Beer making supplies covered the walls. Different types grains and hops and whatnot were within inches of our fingertips. So rather than backing out honorably, we marched out of the shop with 60 dollars worth of items that might go horribly wrong since they had now been put in the wrong hands.
Getting home, my roomate and I were dumbfounded at the process of making beer. It seemed to me that nothing good can come from liquid sitting in a bucket for two weeks. Yet, we proceeded to cook our ingredients believing in our hearts that we were doing good for our country. Once we poured our ingredients into the bucket, our house smelled as though 30 ailing cats somehow managed to find their way in our house and die. Some of these cats I presume must have also recently caught fire since there was no way to account of the smell of fur and charcoal.
After a taking a short breather and a chance to rationalize and cope with what we were doing, my roomate and I let the beer sit.
It is still sitting to this day. I have no idea how it is going to turn out. My other roomates wonder when these childish antics will cease, yet we haven't even tried our first batch and we have already commenced on our 2nd and 3rd batch.
If you would like pointers on the beer making process, ask a professional.
If you would like to be a guinea pig, call us.
If you would like no part of this asinine behavior, more power to you.
Monday, September 8, 2008
Our Rotten Elders
In 1999, Tom Brokaw wrote and introduced the world to "The Greatest Generation." This book chronicled the lives of men and women from the United States of America. The great Americans dealt with the turmoil caused by the Second World War. These people witness things that following generations could not even fathom. Yet, while Mr. Brokaw could be right that they were at one time part of the greatest generation, many of them have no split off and formed one of the meanest mobs of angry old farts this world has ever seen.
While I am indebted to them for being able to do the things that I don't believe I could face, I don't deserve to be treated like a dirty plague carrying rat every time they feel I messed up on their coffee beverage. That's right, I am a barista. I am even somewhat egocentric. However, I just don't know why members of the greatest generation always generate most of my emotional stress at work.
Don't get me wrong, there are still some great older people out there. Some men like, let's say Bob, coming gallivanting through the door with the most contagious smile on their face. When they reach the counter, they clearly state their order and no matter how it turns out, this drink seems to be the most wonderful part of the day. They then breeze out of the cafe nearly crying because they feel so fortunate to have had another day in which they could sit, drink a coffee, and talk to their neighborhood friendly barista. These are good times.
Yet, there are others. The Others. Whom clearly have a vendetta against me as soon as they can force their way through the doors. Once in, they are ready to consume. Throwing human emotions aside, they mumble their order and expect me to know exactly what they want. When I attempt to clarify their order, they look at me as though I had just stepped on the head of their favorite dog, presumably named Lilly. Now that "Lilly" is dead, they hate me. No matter how marvelous this drink is, it takes like a tall glass of urine to them and they only thing that would satisfy them now is a quart of my blood. I am not saying old people are vampires, well maybe I am. Anyway, after this unsatisfying experience, they pull out a dollar from their pocket as if to give a tip, then quickly put it back in their pocket.
I cannot wait to be old
While I am indebted to them for being able to do the things that I don't believe I could face, I don't deserve to be treated like a dirty plague carrying rat every time they feel I messed up on their coffee beverage. That's right, I am a barista. I am even somewhat egocentric. However, I just don't know why members of the greatest generation always generate most of my emotional stress at work.
Don't get me wrong, there are still some great older people out there. Some men like, let's say Bob, coming gallivanting through the door with the most contagious smile on their face. When they reach the counter, they clearly state their order and no matter how it turns out, this drink seems to be the most wonderful part of the day. They then breeze out of the cafe nearly crying because they feel so fortunate to have had another day in which they could sit, drink a coffee, and talk to their neighborhood friendly barista. These are good times.
Yet, there are others. The Others. Whom clearly have a vendetta against me as soon as they can force their way through the doors. Once in, they are ready to consume. Throwing human emotions aside, they mumble their order and expect me to know exactly what they want. When I attempt to clarify their order, they look at me as though I had just stepped on the head of their favorite dog, presumably named Lilly. Now that "Lilly" is dead, they hate me. No matter how marvelous this drink is, it takes like a tall glass of urine to them and they only thing that would satisfy them now is a quart of my blood. I am not saying old people are vampires, well maybe I am. Anyway, after this unsatisfying experience, they pull out a dollar from their pocket as if to give a tip, then quickly put it back in their pocket.
I cannot wait to be old
Sunday, August 31, 2008
Labor Day
One of the greatest things about our country is that anything you can think of has most likely happened. More specifically, anything that you can think of, no matter how awful it is, has probably been covered in a late night with Jerry Springer episode. Yet, I think I might have thought of something that hasn't been covered on late night TV.
Our world, is not very smart. While there are intelligent people on this earth, they are few and far between. Hence why most of the stuff people look at online are videos of people doing stupid things. Nobody searches youtube for, "Guy who does incredibly hard math equation really fast" or "Awesome Debate Team Footage." Those videos aren't popular. Instead people (you) search for things such as, "Dog bites mans crotch in slow motion" and "Fart Videos" and "Nasty Fart Videos." To make a long story short, many people on this world are not very smart and they are revered by the public.
However, I don't think anyone who is pregnant has ever induced labor a couple of days just so their baby could be born on labor day.
I know you are just thinking, "Wow Reid, This is just Brainless."
Well so is the public and if you were to ask them, "Why do we have labor day?"
They would respond by drooling. Cause all they can think about is the day off that they have from work.
Since nobody really knows, nor cares, about the origins of labor day, then I believe that someone could actually think, "That must be the day that people have babies."
So while I started off this blog thinking that surely nobody could be that stupid, I just convinced myself that it is possible. Sad Times.
Enjoy Your Labor Day!
Our world, is not very smart. While there are intelligent people on this earth, they are few and far between. Hence why most of the stuff people look at online are videos of people doing stupid things. Nobody searches youtube for, "Guy who does incredibly hard math equation really fast" or "Awesome Debate Team Footage." Those videos aren't popular. Instead people (you) search for things such as, "Dog bites mans crotch in slow motion" and "Fart Videos" and "Nasty Fart Videos." To make a long story short, many people on this world are not very smart and they are revered by the public.
However, I don't think anyone who is pregnant has ever induced labor a couple of days just so their baby could be born on labor day.
I know you are just thinking, "Wow Reid, This is just Brainless."
Well so is the public and if you were to ask them, "Why do we have labor day?"
They would respond by drooling. Cause all they can think about is the day off that they have from work.
Since nobody really knows, nor cares, about the origins of labor day, then I believe that someone could actually think, "That must be the day that people have babies."
So while I started off this blog thinking that surely nobody could be that stupid, I just convinced myself that it is possible. Sad Times.
Enjoy Your Labor Day!
Monday, August 25, 2008
Nothing Impressive
I had the opportunity to dine with my parents the other evening and of course, I accepted. While this should have been a pleasant experience, it was not. The reason being that our "waiter" decided to receive our order without writing it down. Keep in mind, that there were six people whom were also ordering various appetizers along with their main entrees.
To me, this is not impressive. Not at all. I am having a really hard time trying to wrap my mind around why people would choose to do this.
Even if the server remembers everything, which I have yet to see, this "trick" of theirs would only make me think, "neat."
I think many people are in this boat because I don't think that anyone would actually stop a server to say, "My goodness son you have some serious talent. Develop that would you? Hone in on that gift because you are certainly blessed. If not for me, do it for the world. The betterment of mankind if you will. Cause if you won't. You will let us all down. You might even speed up global warming."
Let's face it. This is no reward for doing this. It doesn't make your establishment any more respectable. It just makes it more annoying when you have to switch plates with your neighbor since you server could not remember where anything was supposed to be.
It's silly. Just silly. Stop it silly servers. Stop it.
P.S - If I were to open up a restaurant, not only would my servers write EVERYTHING down, the establishment would be called, "Reid's house of wizardry, Espresso, and people who like to have a good time, fun time hang out zone!"
To me, this is not impressive. Not at all. I am having a really hard time trying to wrap my mind around why people would choose to do this.
Even if the server remembers everything, which I have yet to see, this "trick" of theirs would only make me think, "neat."
I think many people are in this boat because I don't think that anyone would actually stop a server to say, "My goodness son you have some serious talent. Develop that would you? Hone in on that gift because you are certainly blessed. If not for me, do it for the world. The betterment of mankind if you will. Cause if you won't. You will let us all down. You might even speed up global warming."
Let's face it. This is no reward for doing this. It doesn't make your establishment any more respectable. It just makes it more annoying when you have to switch plates with your neighbor since you server could not remember where anything was supposed to be.
It's silly. Just silly. Stop it silly servers. Stop it.
P.S - If I were to open up a restaurant, not only would my servers write EVERYTHING down, the establishment would be called, "Reid's house of wizardry, Espresso, and people who like to have a good time, fun time hang out zone!"
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Sad News
Sorry, I know this is not a happy post.
A band that has been a big part of my youth is the Dave Matthews Band. I have seen this band numerous times and every time it was an amazing and beautiful experience. I looked at the news tonight and it saddened me to learn that on of the founding members Leroi Moore died today at the age of 47.
There is really nothing to say. It is just a really hard thing to swallow.
So if you guys have a spare moment, listen to a Dave Matthews Band.
I wish I had something profound to say.
A band that has been a big part of my youth is the Dave Matthews Band. I have seen this band numerous times and every time it was an amazing and beautiful experience. I looked at the news tonight and it saddened me to learn that on of the founding members Leroi Moore died today at the age of 47.
There is really nothing to say. It is just a really hard thing to swallow.
So if you guys have a spare moment, listen to a Dave Matthews Band.
I wish I had something profound to say.
Friday, August 8, 2008
The Dentist Office
I, Reid Volk, took a friendly stroll to my hometown dentist yesterday. While I know that almost everyone has had their share of horrific experiences inside this house of pain, I am going to divulge to you the mental notes that I took down today during my visit.
First off, I was made aware that the dentist wanted to see me when they called my mother and told her that I was, "...due for a visit." When I first heard this, I accepted. Why Not I said to myself. The dentist is just something that we do. We are due there twice a year.
Yet, it dawned on me while I was in the chair that I don't like that the dentist is the only place we are "due." It as if at some time long ago we belonged to the dentist, but out of the kindness of their heart they agreed to release us into the custody of our parents. Their only stipulation being that we are "due" to come "home" twice a year so they can prod inside of our mouths with powertools. It is as if we are nothing but library books. Library books that can never seen to please, no matter how much we brush or floss. It is just never good enough.
Secondly, The lead vest. When the dentist desires to obtain pictures of your mouth, he lets his little minions do all of the dirty work. Already, I have a hard time trusting this "Dentist", so as you can imagine I have little faith in his indentured servants. Ostensibly, the lead vest that is placed on your chest is there to protect you from harmful rays that are misfired from the camera. This gesture usually provides a small sense of security all the way up until the nurse points the camera (death ray) at your head! On top of this, the nurse has to leave the room before she takes the picture. I don't know much, but I know this much is true, if the nurse has to leave the room before she is willing to operate a machine and that machine is within inches of your brain, a lead vest isn't doing anything. The vest is just there to hold you down.
Thirdly, if you look around the room that you are imprisoned, you will see examples of "good" and "bad" sets of teeth. This just made me wonder, how does one approach someone to ask if they could take a picture of their "bad" teeth. Do they explain to the patient that this photo is going to be displayed in offices across the world to show teens the havoc that can be wrecked upon their teeth if they wish to "go down that path." I feel like that would be a pretty hurtful conversation. However, I feel that if your teeth were that bad, you would have to know things like that were coming. I mean, ignoring your teeth to the point of where they rot out of your jaw has to almost take as much determination as lets say...writing your dissertation. It entails long and arduous hours of throwing hundreds of years of medical knowledge out the window and telling yourself that hygiene is for fools. Also, Whenever people gasp in horror the moment you open your lips, you have to lie to yourself and think "they were probably looking at something behind me, surely not my mouth. It is fine. It hurts, but it is fine. It bleeds constantly. But I am doing the right thing. I always cry when I try to eat, but I am totally being smart about this."
Also, Who are these people who have the perfectly beautiful and most photogenic teeth. I believe them to be dentures because as I stated before, you can never please the dentist. If the dentist ever said, "Wow, I really don't have to do anything, looks like you've really been letting your gums have it! They look fantastic! And your teeth...Sweet Mary...Somebody get a camera...heaven resides in this young man's mouth", I would think I was on punk'd and when Ashton came out...I would eat his face.
Lastly (is that a word?),
In the waiting room I was asked to fill out a form so that way the dentist would have updated information regarding my health. As I scanned through this litany of seemingly superfluous questions, there was one that caught my eye. On this delicate piece of yellow paper read the question, and I repeat: "Have you ever been diagnosed with TRENCH MOUTH?"
Even writing this now I am aghast at this question.
I have never even heard of Trench Mouth. The closest connection in my mind I could make to this was Trench Foot, Which is where you feet can itch and swell due to prolonged exposure to damp unsanitary conditions. Yet, I don't think there has been a case reported of this sense World War 1, when people were actually in trenches. Thank goodness I have never been in a trench, but I highly doubt that the inside of my mouth is akin to one. Maybe it is, I mean it is damp all the time. Unsanitary...maybe...I would like to say no, but frequent late night stampedes to my friend Mcdonald's house has me thinking otherwise. Maybe my mouth is a trench. I don't know how I feel about that. I just don't want to see myself in the future saying things like, "Man that burger looks soooo good. I can wait to put that in my trench."
Anyway, I will stop ranting about this place. I am sure it does a lot of good when people willfully desire to be there. Yet, I will never know what that is like. For even though I may despise the place, I will always dutifully comply when they tell me I am "due."
First off, I was made aware that the dentist wanted to see me when they called my mother and told her that I was, "...due for a visit." When I first heard this, I accepted. Why Not I said to myself. The dentist is just something that we do. We are due there twice a year.
Yet, it dawned on me while I was in the chair that I don't like that the dentist is the only place we are "due." It as if at some time long ago we belonged to the dentist, but out of the kindness of their heart they agreed to release us into the custody of our parents. Their only stipulation being that we are "due" to come "home" twice a year so they can prod inside of our mouths with powertools. It is as if we are nothing but library books. Library books that can never seen to please, no matter how much we brush or floss. It is just never good enough.
Secondly, The lead vest. When the dentist desires to obtain pictures of your mouth, he lets his little minions do all of the dirty work. Already, I have a hard time trusting this "Dentist", so as you can imagine I have little faith in his indentured servants. Ostensibly, the lead vest that is placed on your chest is there to protect you from harmful rays that are misfired from the camera. This gesture usually provides a small sense of security all the way up until the nurse points the camera (death ray) at your head! On top of this, the nurse has to leave the room before she takes the picture. I don't know much, but I know this much is true, if the nurse has to leave the room before she is willing to operate a machine and that machine is within inches of your brain, a lead vest isn't doing anything. The vest is just there to hold you down.
Thirdly, if you look around the room that you are imprisoned, you will see examples of "good" and "bad" sets of teeth. This just made me wonder, how does one approach someone to ask if they could take a picture of their "bad" teeth. Do they explain to the patient that this photo is going to be displayed in offices across the world to show teens the havoc that can be wrecked upon their teeth if they wish to "go down that path." I feel like that would be a pretty hurtful conversation. However, I feel that if your teeth were that bad, you would have to know things like that were coming. I mean, ignoring your teeth to the point of where they rot out of your jaw has to almost take as much determination as lets say...writing your dissertation. It entails long and arduous hours of throwing hundreds of years of medical knowledge out the window and telling yourself that hygiene is for fools. Also, Whenever people gasp in horror the moment you open your lips, you have to lie to yourself and think "they were probably looking at something behind me, surely not my mouth. It is fine. It hurts, but it is fine. It bleeds constantly. But I am doing the right thing. I always cry when I try to eat, but I am totally being smart about this."
Also, Who are these people who have the perfectly beautiful and most photogenic teeth. I believe them to be dentures because as I stated before, you can never please the dentist. If the dentist ever said, "Wow, I really don't have to do anything, looks like you've really been letting your gums have it! They look fantastic! And your teeth...Sweet Mary...Somebody get a camera...heaven resides in this young man's mouth", I would think I was on punk'd and when Ashton came out...I would eat his face.
Lastly (is that a word?),
In the waiting room I was asked to fill out a form so that way the dentist would have updated information regarding my health. As I scanned through this litany of seemingly superfluous questions, there was one that caught my eye. On this delicate piece of yellow paper read the question, and I repeat: "Have you ever been diagnosed with TRENCH MOUTH?"
Even writing this now I am aghast at this question.
I have never even heard of Trench Mouth. The closest connection in my mind I could make to this was Trench Foot, Which is where you feet can itch and swell due to prolonged exposure to damp unsanitary conditions. Yet, I don't think there has been a case reported of this sense World War 1, when people were actually in trenches. Thank goodness I have never been in a trench, but I highly doubt that the inside of my mouth is akin to one. Maybe it is, I mean it is damp all the time. Unsanitary...maybe...I would like to say no, but frequent late night stampedes to my friend Mcdonald's house has me thinking otherwise. Maybe my mouth is a trench. I don't know how I feel about that. I just don't want to see myself in the future saying things like, "Man that burger looks soooo good. I can wait to put that in my trench."
Anyway, I will stop ranting about this place. I am sure it does a lot of good when people willfully desire to be there. Yet, I will never know what that is like. For even though I may despise the place, I will always dutifully comply when they tell me I am "due."
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