This is a new type of column we are introducing here at Tales of Extraordinary Sanity called “Saturday Night Jives”. Every Saturday evening we are going to post a few of our favorite images, videos and sites that we came across during the previous week. Comments, criticisms, or suggestions for the following week are more than welcome. Enjoy (or I’ll come and find you)!
Can I help you?
Why you never f#$% with the Marines...
Tell your kids: creativity kills.
Our inner nerd moment
- The Master of the Extraordinary
I want to apologize for taking so long to write this article but I’ve been preoccupied lately with saving the world. I’m kind of a big deal. The Navy SEALS say they’ve never seen someone so adept in the arts of Kung Fu, Jiu Jitsu, and Capy Bara. Anyways, I can’t go into detail but let’s just say a certain famous Pakistani dude (or was he Assyrian?) won’t be making anymore homemade videos. I should be getting the Congressional Medal of Honor any day now. Boo Rah!*
This week, instead of giving tips about getting the ladies, I thought I would talk about my other great passion: cooking. Now, I know what you’re thinking: “the Tiger” cooks? Can’t he just get a lay-day friend to do it for him? Yes, I can! But there are certain dishes that only a man has that certain je ne sais quoi to make. Top of the list is the sandwich.
Now some may tell you that making a sandwich is easy, but they are wrong, my friend, they are dead wrong. Sandwichry, as I like to call it, is a long intensive process that requires skill, practice and patience. It is the craft of real men. You can’t just slap any old piece of meat together with some processed cheese and call it a sandwich, you have to be conscientious of just how all those different juicy morsels of pure unadulterated goodness are going to melt in your mouth. So choose wisely. But the true mark of the man’s sandwich, a “manwich” if you will, is measured with a yard stick. If your sandwich is stacked so high with assorted meats, cheeses, sauces and vegetables that you can’t pick it up without something falling out, if it’s so massive that you can’t bite into all of it at once, that’s when you know you’ve made a proper sandwich. Congratulations, compadre! Just remember, no knives or forks allowed!
- Mike “the Tiger” MacNamara
*Ed. TES does not know why Mr. MacNamara disappeared for so long (perhaps gambling debts got too high or an ex- tracked him down?) but we can promise our readers that he had nothing to do with the recent death of terrorist mastermind Osama bin Laden. Fortunately, that task was left to actual professionals.
I always loved to eat: to eat good food. Despite what is written in the diet column of Tales of Extraordinary Sanity – and I must say, I am completely against the editorial choices that this project is taking as of late – if there is one thing you shouldn’t joke about, it’s food.
Millions – what am I saying? – Billions of people die every year because of bad food. Food must be cooked with mastery and Grace (my sweet friend Grace, her flesh is so tender…). Have you heard about those poor children dying of starvation in Africa? They are not dying because you didn’t finish your meal! That’s the crap that your grandmother used to tell you when you didn’t finish her disgusting over-salted “homemade” French fries. The ones covered in mustard, remember? And she knows that you can’t stand mustard.
Why is good food so important? Because I love good food! Why is it that when I am in a Sushi restaurant, the cook is always Korean? And how come when I go to a Korean restaurant the cook studied in Japan? A “salty crêpe” means salty, so why does this one – that costs 5 bucks since I am downtown – taste like Nutella?
And pizza. God, PIZZA!!! Pizza can be made out of provolone and ketchup, if you want to eat shit. Haven’t they ever heard of mozzarella and tomato sauce? And no, you can’t just bake it for two minutes either. I am having these and hundreds of other considerations – and hallucinations – while I lie here collapsed on the sidewalk thanks to that slice of pizza which I bought from that street vendor. Because yes, I am stupid! And something starts to grow inside of me. And it’s not the dough of the pizza that only now starts to ferment and grow in my stomach. But something else starts to come out of me. And it’s loathing, loathing for myself, because I’ve forgotten what real food is. Disgust for my lazy ass, that made me eat this shit: something I would only feed to my grandmother. “I’ve had enough of this shit!!!”.
Are you sick of this as well? Then go to the Grocery store, spend 20 bucks and go home. Wash your fucking pots and pans – who knows what kind of readers we might have. Get a clean chopping board and a sharp knife and cook! Girls love guys that know how to cook – since they have forgotten how to do it themselves. And if you are a girl, reading this: learn to cook as well! Guys love eating – and you can make him do anything once he is well fed. Don’t know where to start? You can read, right? So google “recipes” and pick one. Just an hour of hard work – a good time to forget the miseries of life – and then “violà, bon appétit.”
– Simone “Child” La Cuercha