u The Main Dish: August 2007

The Main Dish

Looking for the Spoon...

Tuesday, August 21, 2007

Take Me Out to the Ball Game

Ok. So any of my faithful readers know that that is not a sentence you would generally ever hear me utter in any sort of serious way. But, Lynx stadium is exactly where I found myself last week. Why? 1) Katey’s birthday 2) $2 concession night.

For a mere $11 entry fee to the ball game (and those were the good seats), you can gorge yourself on as many $2 concessions as you like. Please note: The nachos are not included in the list of $2 concessions. Also please note: If you are only there for the hotdogs, you would be better of going on 25-cent hotdog night. Yes. You heard me right. 25-cent hotdog night. Ryan, get your thermos ready

Anyway, despite the fact that I barely watched any of the game, I had a fabulous time taking pictures, gorging, and mocking the mangy mascot

The night started off beautifully with a Jumbo Hotdog. (We all know how I feel about big things.)

That was followed up by the Giant Popcorn, which was so salty it burned the skin right off the roof of my mouth

The grand finale was the Extra Large Cotton Candy. I happily munched on the cotton candy shared with me by Gwen. Because of the salty popcorn, I couldn’t even taste the sweetness of the cotton candy: a very dangerous situation indeed. Then Lesley and Eric got a bag too but didn’t really want it. Eric kept trying to pawn it off on people. I, being the junk food junky that I am, was the only one still eating any of it. This led him to the brilliant idea of making a cotton candy wager. First, he offered me $100 to eat the rest of the bag of cotton candy before the game ended. It was almost the end of the ninth inning. When it seemed I was willing to accept, he then back-tracked his bet and changed it to “all the money in my pocket”. Fine. I still like a challenge. Especially one related to junk food. I’m no hotdog eating contest champion, but I can generally hold my own.

And so it began. There was a lot of cotton candy and keep in mind that this was not my first treat of the evening. It started off quick paced. My fingers and face were sticky, but I persevered. My liver screamed in protest, but still I kept eating. Luckily, fate was on my side and an extra two innings were added to the game, giving me more time to finish. A helpful hint when engaged in a cotton candy showdown: Water is your friend. One sip of water and a huge quantity of cotton candy will dissolve instantly. It helps conserve saliva.


In the end, I came out victorious. I was $4.25 richer and I had not fallen into a diabetic coma. Eric, on the other hand, was not faring so well. First, he had lost a bet he never thought he would lose. Second, apparently his girlfriend, who had recently been injured in a bike accident, was expecting to be wooed with a filet-o-fish from McDonald’s using that $4.25. So, not only did he have to deal with the shame of losing, he also had to explain why the McDonald’s funding had been squandered.

Meanwhile, I was riding (sugar)high thinking about how to spend my $4.25 in winnings. And, I still had all of my teeth! What more could a girl ask for? It was a fantastic ending to an exciting night at the ball park.

posted by Dish @ 10:14 PM 1 comments

Monday, August 13, 2007

Dear Dish on Baby Droppage

Dear Dish,

People are constantly dropping things. Like toast. Hopefully it falls jam side up so you can brush it off and pretend like nothing ever happened. Sometimes people even drop themselves down the stairs. But this letter isn't about the perils of not holding onto the railing.

But you know what people never drop? Babies. They're carried over cement, carpet, down the stairs, and into the workplace to be coddled by strangers (who get annoyed when the questions of "who's next?" comes up and people start picking names). But this isn't about such resentment.

Dish, my question for you is, why do people never drop babies? We drop everything else in this world.

Sincerely,

Someone who has probably never dropped a baby, but wouldn't tell you the truth either way.

Dear Someone:

Nothing is more tragic than a piece of toast that falls jam down. Not only do you run the risk of getting unwanted dirt and dust stuck onto your lovely breakfast, but you also then have to mop the floor or else continue to have your feet stick to the spot where the jam fell for days to come, cursing the sticky spot each and every time.

The truth is that people do drop babies, but it's all a well-kept secret. Of course if you are a guest baby-holder (i.e. a non-parent), you will be doing your utmost not to drop the baby so you won't be blamed for the baby's learning difficulties later in life.

Parents will also always be extra careful with their babies while in public. No parent wants someone to witness them dropping their baby, because do you know what would happen then? They would be considered "unfit". No one wants that label. It will follow you "like a man possessed", "like a pawn on the eternal board", or "like a smirking ghost" (bonus points for identifying the sources of these similes). I mean just look at Michael Jackson. All he did was dangle his baby over a balcony. He didn't even drop it! And poor Brittney. Think of how she has suffered, and all over a few minor incidents like driving with her baby in her lap instead of a car seat, failing to wear underpants and partying all night. Two of those acts are not even baby-related, for Pete's sake.

It all just goes to show that you can never be too careful when babies are involved. You have to look good in the public eye. That is why when people at work ask you if you are going to be the next to have a baby, you spit on them for asking rude, inappropriate questions and walk away.

Hope this helps.

Dish

posted by Dish @ 5:25 PM 3 comments

Friday, August 03, 2007

Ode to Palmer

In honour of Mr. Palmer’s birthday and the man himself, I have decided to come out of hiding and actually post a blog entry.

Palmer and I first met when I worked as a summer student at good old Phase IV. His friendly ways and desire to make all feel welcome really helped ease the “new job/I don`t know anyone” dread. Soon, I found myself invited to Bond nights and the friendship was solidified. Truly, there could be no better person to face the bagel nazi with on a daily basis than Palmer.

Palmer embraces the drama‑free lifestyle, but this does not mean he is unwilling to lend a listening ear when the drama in yours gets out of control. He’ll tell you it how it is, but always accompanies any hard‑to‑face truths with kind words.

Always full of compliments, the man brings fun with him wherever he goes. He is a great addition to any party — heck, he IS the party. One might even go so far as to say that he is a WILD party in true Kim Mitchell style…only without the horrific mullet, thank heavens!

Lover of AC (lightning bolt) DC, the Smashing Pumpkins, Guns N’ Roses and too many other bands to name, Palmer is definitely the ideal partner in crime for all things rock. With Palmer by your side, every concert is a guaranteed good time. And let’s not forget to mention that he himself is a singer/guitar-player/songwriter. He is best known for his catchy hit “The Man”, which is so good it will stick in your head for days. Just writing the title has it stuck in mine.

Closet fan of the thermos dog, king of interpretive dance and Chuck Norris enthusiast, Palmer is truly one of a kind. Thanks for the friendship.

Hope the birthday is a blast.

Dish

posted by Dish @ 10:04 AM 5 comments