20 Things I Learned From Sushi

  • Raw = Good.

  • The first time is always scary.

  • If you're ever in doubt then just stick with the chicken.

  • Toro, Toro, Toro!

  • It shouldn't smell like anything. If if does, see #3.

  • While a California Roll is fine, it's not really sushi.

  • Maki, Nigiri, Sashimi. Decisions, decisions, decisions.

  • Cheap sushi? This is never a good plan. Your palate and stomach will thank me later, even if your pocketbook is a little unhappy.

  • Fish is the only meat that gets less expensive after it's cooked.

  • Sushi is served on an alter so show some respect

  • Sushi without Wasabi is like a runner without legs.

  • Wasabi should never be handled by amateurs, unless you want a good laugh.

  • How much is too much Wasabi? You'll be the first to know.

  • Sushi should never be purchased by the pound.

  • Sushi, Wasabi & Soy Sauce. Ginger. Tea. Repeat.

  • If you're squeamish, then don't order the sweet shrimp. Trust me. Nothing changes the moood like an unexpected deep fried shrimp head.

  • Rice is filler.

  • If your sushi chefs names are Bob, Johnny or Sue, see #3. Sorry guys I'm just not buying it.

  • Sake or Sake? It could make all the difference between chopstick or shot glass.

  • Dinner and a show? Sushi at the bar. Done.
  • Lazy Thursday Blues: Links and Stuff

    The caption game is on hiatus due to very low interest. Here's some funny stuff to see and do.

    Shakespearean Insulter Thou paunchy toad-spotted jolt-head!

    The Perfect Joke Stop me if you've heard this one

    Motivator create your own motivational/de-motivational poster!

    Old Computer Parts? Turn them into an action figure of soda fridge!

    Vader Hates Cell Phones Great Stuff!

    Motivator: Gaming

    My first visit to the Motivator.

    Free Proofreading Service

    Now that I've confessed to my blogging alter egos, I can link you to one of them and not feel guilty. I just submitted a new post to Fusionring that I think you might get a kick out of. It struck me as funny and you know what can come of that...

    Free Proofreading Service


    Sherry Is A Liar

    I just spent the last forty-seven minutes on the phone with Sherry. Sherry or Cheri or Share-y? I don't know, and in all honesty I don't think she did either. Sherry was a liar.

    Sherry said, "Hello, thank you for calling Giant ISP/Telephone Corporation, my name is Sherry. I see by the automated system that you're calling about number 000-555-1234, and I'm here to help. Thank you for holding, what is your first and last name?" without taking a breath. It was amazing!

    It was almost like, well... like she was reading it from a sheet with no punctuation marks. Or parsing it through a poor phonetic translator. I had once again made it to the India Calling Que. Sherry has probably never been to the US, and you can be sure Sherry's name isn't really Sherry anyway. I really don't have any trouble with companies using inexpensive telephone operators to answer basic questions and to route their high volume call numbers to the correct places. Honest. Just don't lie to me.

    If Giant ISP/Telephone Corporation wants me to talk to someone in India, then please, stop trying to pretend their names are 'Bob' and 'Sue' I don't buy it. Who does? I'd rather just be told, "You're just one lonely DSL user, your piddly revenue is not worth the amount of money we would have to pay American union workers to answer the telephone. Besides, can you really tell the difference?"

    Yes, yes I can. When Sherry pronounced 'customer premises' as 'Pre-My-Sis' I had to use every bit of self constraint I had to keep from busting up. I don't have much, so I only just made it through. I suppose I shouldn't rag on 'Sherry' too much, as I did eventually get routed to the right place.

    Turns out all it took to get my problem solved was having a nice long chat with 'Henry'.

    Sigh. Oh well, it's a brave new world!

    From The Editors Desk: Concerning Links

    Gentle Reader;

    I know that about a month ago I ditched the Google ads on this page. In addition I resolved to myself to keep KludgeSpot as a place for my own amusement and post stuff purely for the enjoyment of doing so. While I'm not planning on changing that stance, I am convinced that I can make some extra dough online. Currently my Cafepress gear is still selling. A slow but steady stream of clicks and buys.

    As a new attempt to make the web payoff I've started a new venture. If you notice a couple of links at the bottom of the page, follow at your own risk. they are a couple of blogs I'm building up for another money making venture.

    I type this today because a reader unknowingly found one. While there is nothing wrong with the sites, I do pitch products and services I care nothing about. Additionally I almost never proofread. If you would like to take a peek, feel free, but do so at your own risk.

    I Don't Want The Worm

    I have just started a new work schedule. I had to fight for nearly two years to get this schedule. All I can think, now that I'm on is, 'How long before I can change back?”

    The schedule is called "Don't Ask Me Anything Before 9:00!"

    I'm now working four 10 hour day's. This schedule looks really good on paper. I mean, is a ten hour shift really that much different than an eight hour shift? Some days I end up working an hour late, just because I had a couple of things I had to finish up. I can't imagine getting up an hour earlier will be that hard. Besides getting a whole day off sounds great! So I finally got my boss to approve this new schedule.

    "Just come in an hour earlier, stay an hour later Monday though Thursday and you can sleep in all day on Friday!"

    "Wow! I can totally do that!"

    "Okay, I'll see you Monday morning at 7:00."


    This means I have to leave the house by 6:30. Which means I need to get out of bed at 5:30. Okay, that's not bad. I just keep telling myself, “It's only an hour. It's only an hour.”

    This morning at 5:30am came like a steaming locomotive with no brakes, and I was laying across the tracks. One minute it was 11:00pm and I was coming to bed after a couple hour of gaming, and the next moment I'm retched from a perfectly good dream about slaughtering a pack of vicious Orcs, so I could see my alarm clock cheerfully cranking out it's hideous morning melody.

    "Wake up sleepyhead! It's time for another wonderful day!"

    After telling the alarm clock what I thought about it, my eyes start closing again. “Get up!” My brain hollers, and much to my surprise, I do. I did it. I'm on my feet and out of bed at 5:40 in the morning. This is going to work.

    There is nothing quite as dangerous as a safety razor in the hands of man who is having trouble keeping his eyes open while the warm shower is lulling him back to sleep. As I stand there, looking in my shaving mirror, with my mouth open, trying to decipher which parts of my face I should remove and which part I need to keep, I realize it's 5:45. What I'm doing up at 5:45? I have no answer for myself, because I'm staring back at shadowy jawline with an feeling of a sleepwalker. I also realized that I could absolutely fall asleep standing up in a shower, even while soap runs in my eyes.

    In fact the only reason I'm not still in the shower is that the water went cold. I got to work, after snapping at my completely innocent wife, and narrowly avoiding killing myself and a dozen other drivers on the road. I poured my coffee and tried to dunk my head directed in the mug.

    I wasn't really doing anything remotely 'work-like' till about 8:30ish.

    I asked some of the guys how long it takes to get used to the new hours. Most agree about a month. Only 29 days to go.

    They say, "The early bird gets the worm." Well, as far as I'm concerned, he can have the blasted thing!

    20 Things I Learned From Spicy Foods

  • Hot does not mean spicy.

  • If its not spicy its just gruel.

  • Habanero, Thai Pepper, Serrano? Decisions, decisions, decisions.

  • Enjoy the burn.

  • Hot sauce is the new beige. It goes with everything.

  • Mild? I don't understand...

  • The tongue is evil and should be punished.

  • How much hot sauce? How much is there?

  • Yes, I have seen an empty bottle of Tabasco sauce.

  • I like my food like a battlefield. Bathed in red!

  • JalapeƱos, are for cooling down.

  • No Regrets. You did. You pay for it.

  • Restrooms fear the sound of my name

  • Heartburn is fleeting and the cold sweats will pass.

  • Extra spicy means you won't have to share.

  • Trust me, I know what I'm doing!

  • When in doubt, add another pepper.

  • Dinner? A bucket of Buffalo wings and a tall glass of blue cheese dressing. Done.

  • Ice cream chasers, anyone?

  • If you're not sweating it wasn't spicy enough.
  • Highs and Lows

    Up and down. Up and down. That's all that there is to it. I mean how exciting can it be? As far As I can tell the Yo-yo should really be a very stupid toy. I mean the entire point is to send it flying and then bring it back to the point that it started. If your goal is for it to end up where it started then wouldn't it be best to just never let it go? Moreover why would anyone care if they couldn't get the Yo-yo to do their bidding?

    What do I care if a block of wood and a piece of string listens to me? I'm not sure, but I do. I just can't stop throwing the Yo-Yo, and having it return with a resounding thud. It feels good to let it go and bring it back to my palm. It's like a power trip, or a programing loop I can't seem to get free from. Down and back, down and back. I just sit there smiling.

    There is something terribly addicting about throwing away an object that wants so badly to return. I imagine this is what dog lovers feel in some small way. Minus the hair, the feeding, the whining, the shots, the scolding and the poop. Yeah, minus those things a Yo-yo is like a dog.

    It is never going to tire of playing catch, and it will always be happy to see you. Of course a Yo-yo will not make you get up early on a Saturday morning because it needs you to take it outside. Nor will neglecting to do this for your Yo-yo mean that you will have to say up late on that same Saturday scrubbing the smell from the rug. Okay, come to think of it, a Yo-yo is nothing like a dog.

    I mean it's only purpose in life is to return. Dogs have to be trained for months to learn that one.

    “Fuffy! Come here boy! Come on Fluffy.”

    “Who's Fluffy? Why is he screaming at me...”

    “COME. FLUFFY!!”

    “Wow, wherever this Fluffy is at, he's gonna be in trouble!”

    A Yo-yo needs no training. I mean, that's why it was made. If it cannot come back to you it is not fulfilling it's purpose. You on the other hand need a lot of training. There is nothing quite as fun as watching someone try out their first Yo-yo. It's always the same...they wind it up, hold out their hand, and then wait for the Yo-yo to do the work. Yo-yo's never work your first try. It's a rule.

    They want to see you humiliated in front of all your friends as you start dancing around like you've got a misbehaving marionette puppet on a string. Like it's the puppets fault his eyebrows aren't moving but his hinny his. This effect is even better after the Yo-yo is wound up, played with properly by someone, and then handed to aforementioned puppeteering fool.

    After a little work and practice though, you get the hang of it. So there you are on a Monday night, standing in the hallway after everyone has either left or gone to bed, playing with your Yo-yo. As the hours creep by, you find that you - just - can't - stop.

    Postscript - Someone just linked this post from a Yo-yo forum.

    Did you know that June 6th is National Yo-yo day? Me either...weird how that stuff works out.