gestank

I am really not one to judge when it comes to food, but I am well aware of social graces and proper etiquette in the office suite. Today one of the H1Bs warmed up something foul. One can enjoy these flavors and aromas alone or in small pairings but this heady bouquet is borderline offensive.

There is a base note of a chicken broth that is fighting with a pungent onion smell. The background notes of cumin, mustard, clove, pepper, and rancid butter round out the melange. Truly, the most offensive trait of the vapor is that it clears your sinuses forcing you to breathe in more.

Someone has to be on their deathbed for me to justify this Ayurvedic Yaoxing Lun Holistic haze hanging over my cube.

good things come to those who… do nothing

I was going through my benefits summary today and I read something curious. Despite the depressed economic situation with my company, I noticed that insurance has become more expensive but my take home has gone up. I got a raise! Earlier this year I didn’t bother to submit any paperwork for a re-evalutation of my pay scale since it hasn’t changed in the three years prior to my gigantic promotion. So thank you corporate America, you’ve encouraged me to be a better worker by 1.13% ! (Actual rate of productivity increase does not reflect the increase in wages)

straight people say the darndest things: the gym

Sitting over beers with our friends, conversations about fashion strayed into the tragic outfits donned at the gym.  We laughed at the misuse of stretch fabrics and the tenacity of those fashion misfits who despite their internalized ferocity should not wear said fabrics.  The next homological step in the confab was the amount of sexual tension that exists at the gym.  Because they don’t read this blog, I’m going to take the liberty and out their naivety.

I don’t personally engage in this facet of gay flagellation, but I am well aware of the shenanigans that go on at the gym.  “Straight boy” jokingly said that he ran into “two of your people” in the locker room.  I wasn’t really offended at this statement because I was fantasizing about straight boys in various states of undress taking note of gay activity (cue porn music).  His child-like telling of this story was adorable, as if he was a toddler describing the joy of DisneyWorld to a Floridian.

Happily enough, another story surfaced about a straight gal in the office who was pursued by another woman.  Speaking for all men at the table, I found the story slightly arousing and expressed my hopes that the straight office girl had a tiny inkling of becoming sapphist.  “Straight boy’s fiancee” smiled and said that she would be honestly flattered if thrown into that situation.  Without skipping a beat, straight boy turned his head and grinned from ear to ear.

What have we learned?  The plan for gays to tear the fabric of society is unfounded, blame it on the dirty fantasies of straight men.

confessions of a husky boy: arabic sweets

Oh sweet Jesus do I love living in Detroit. The Arabic population
here thrives, and if it’s one thing that I adore about a culture it’s
their way of making food. When no other cakey or fruit filled dessert
will do, I become peckish for a Byzantine nibble. Though they may
look and taste complex, the makers of these sweets will tell you that
the process is quite simple despite their years of training and their
desire to please without seeming put out.

I bought this tray of baklava and couldn’t wait for the car to
leave the parking lot. Sweet orange blossom honey syrup permeating
every leaf of phyllo and strand of kataifi…. bliss

baklava.jpg
1 62 63 64 65 66 107