Progress Report aka Me Fail Good

I turn 30 in just under 6 months. A while ago, I listed all the things I wanted to do before I turned 30. 30 things to be exact. Let us take a look at how I have done:

1. Make list of things to do before turning 30.

BAM! Done and Done. 1 for 1. Batting a thousand. Lets do this!

2. Make list of things to do before turning 40.

Well, 1/2 is still respectable. Small sample size as the baseball stat nerds from Fangraphs will tell you. Batting .500. Still good. Better than Ted Williams ever did, may his head rest in peace.

3. Buckle down and become manager of the softball team. Someone has to do it. Plus, mini-power trip! (And guaranteed aggravation).

Well, now we get into the Ray Kurzweil hemming and hawing about what it means to predict (or in my case, complete) a specified goal. See, I did buckle down and become manager of the team, but alas, I am a shepard without a flock. I sent out some e-mails but could not garner enough interest among my co-workers and associates. Could I have tried harder? Sure. But I did send out an e-mail. I am gonna say, COMPLETED! That is 2 for 3. Let's keep this self-esteem locomotive rolling . . .

4. Go to several museums, see more of the parks, and visit the lesser known monuments of semi-relevant folks who are largely forgotten now. And take pictures.

A couple weeks ago, the girlfriend's younger brother and sister were in town. I drove them all down to go see the Jefferson Memorial. As we were walking there, and back for that matter, I tried to get everyone all excited about the George Mason Memorial. There is no one ever there, and old George looks totally laid back, what with his legs crossed as if he has no balls. No one took the bait, and they all ignored poor George as everyone does. So, sadly, I cannot even say I went up to Mr. Mason and gave him a pat on the shoulder. I also have not been to any museums or parks or any of that shit. But I have a list of places to go. Including little known parks such as Kenilworth and the Rapunzel looking tower at Fort Reno.

But, haven't done any of it yet. Back to .500, 2/4.

5. Tell my girlfriend that she is the most beautiful thing in the world. Because she is, and I do not do it nearly often enough.

I wish I could say it once every five minutes. But I try to say it once a day. She is the ultimate Decider on this one, but for now, I am scoring it for me. With the caveat that I fully intend on keeping it up for the next six months, six years, and six decades. At least.

6. Prove to above gf that my IQ just may be 135 by doing smart things like reading, becoming informed about events and politics in countries that do not start with U (sorry uraguay, have to focus my attention elsewhere), get a better handle on geography, and watching more olbermann and madow.

I got a subscription to the Economist. I have yet to make it halfway through one issue. But I did pay attention to the Glen Beck, Not A Politics Rally, for about ten seconds! I never watch cable news. My knowledge of geography has not changed. This is a bucket of fail. Back to .500, 3/6.

7. Drink less.

At one point, I went two months without a drink (I talked about in my only March 2010 post). I did not make it through the whole three months that I initially hoped for (thus losing the bet with the woman). But hey, two months is pretty good. I still do some drinking. But it is less. WIN!

8. A lot less.

But it ain't a lot less. I thought about giving me the point under this too because I have been drinking less (in the aggregate, I did drink a lot the week the woman came back for the summer, but being that she was flanked by two kids and I had to see her during the day but sleep at home by myself, I figure some excessive drinking is acceptable. That was also the week the woman at the little store in my work building made fun of me for buying 5-hour energy drinks every day that week), but I am not in the 2-3 drinks, 2-3 times a week category that I think is necessary for this category. I may never be, but that is what "A LOT LESS" would entail.

Oh, that .500 average, it is singing my song.

9. Become a more productive and efficient worker. Just cause there is a deadline doesn't mean I have until then to get my shit finished.
Answer after the jump (due to auto-play video, FYI)

Anger Management

So today kinda sucked. First I discovered that the charging port on my Blackberry is busted (thanks to me! Stupid, stupid me), so that put me in a bad mood for the rest of the day. Until I discovered this: http://shop.crackberry.com/blackberry-charging-pod/5A100A3318.htm , A charging station for my BB. Who knew those little gold tips on the back were actually function. Those crazy Canadians think of everything.

So I trundled down to the local T-Mobile store after work, and of course, they have none in stock. They just had a big sale on them, and they are no more. None of the other 52 T-mobiles in a roughly 12 block radius have them either. So I sauntered down to the Radio Shack, and they of course, just sold theirs the other day and now the product has been discontinued. Fine, whatever, I will just buy the damn thing online I suppose. Whatevs.

But then, I head over to the Macy's to buy some underwear. Briefs to be exact. Because I am getting back on the p90x wagon-train and I need my boys to be comfortable. Well that, and I ripped a couple of pairs of boxers doing Yoga. Because I am THAT damn flexible. For realz. Thing is, I haven't worn briefs in about 20 years. But I notice that Jockey underwear is on sale. So I pick two 3-packs, when I notice that Jockey Underwears are on sale. Buy one get one 50% off! Wooooo! I think to myself. I have really been needing some new white t-shirts. I just threw out one that stunk to high heaven and could not get fresh with even the tidiest of Tides. (I wore for hockey one too many times. I don't smell that bad. In general. After showers at least. For a couple minutes.)

So I pick up two three packs of nice clean white crew-necks. I boogie on down to the cashier table, he rings me up, I put it on the Macy's card, and then do a triple take. Did I just spend $70 on underwear? yes. Yes I did. So, bad mood is back.

From there, I metro on down to the Giant Super Market. To buy some food. But not magic beans. The magic beans at the Giant suck. The girl made me a list (and considering all this food is for her house, she must trust me a lot to buy shit for her. Yeah, that has to be it . . .(or that fact that I eat most of her food could be it too)), so using my new found Supermarket Circumnavigation skills, I hit up the deli, pick out some yellow onions (last night: Me: Are the yellow ones really yellow? Will it be easy to tell them apart from the other onions? Her: Duh, as long as you are not color-blind . . . . [cue evil laughter]), grab some yogurt, didn't flinch when I saw beef broth on the list (though I had no idea what to get, I ended with something in a carboard box, because it looked similar to the chicken broth she used for thanksgiving turkey), and headed to the checkout line.

Of course, I picked the slowest checkout line, the one with the girl in training. But whatever. Things are looking up. Then the total comes in at $88, so I deftly hand over my Giant card and watch the savings appear (I always wait til the end to give them my card so I can see the money go backwards. I can feel my wallet getting fatter as it happens). Final tally, $68.78. Oh yeah, that is right. I spent more on underwear than I did on food for the week. I am the king of money management.

So I get home-ish, the girls home that is, she isn't here. I fire up my laptop, and the internet is on the fritz again. Not the internet really, but the wireless box that I bought for her. Seriously, the thing is a piece of shit. I hate it. So I started cursing, out loud. Fuck you internets and such. Then I just plugged in the cord, adjusted my fantasy line-up and went to work putting away the groceries.

All was going well, until I tried to shove some 100 calorie Party Mix onto the middle shelf in the cabinet, when some chocolate milk mix spilled over all over the damn place. At this point, I said something like "Fuckity Shit" really loudly. And it looks stupid written out, but it really conveyed my emotion at the time.

So I go to the closet to get the vacuum, when I stub my toe. now I said, "OWWWWWWWW FUUUUUUCK!!!" Well not so much said, as yelled very loudly. Then I punched the door. Thankfully the door is ok, but my hand still kinda hurts. So I grab the vacuum, unwind the cord, plug it in, and start vacuuming up delicious chocolate mix, when i go to far and the plug comes out. I cursed more, which if I printed it here, would have been in bold letters (or maybe a bigger font), but instead of going apeshit insane, I decided to rant about all this shit here, and now I am nice and calm and don't see the need for anymore profanity.

I guess that is the end.

Oh, but if you see the woman's neighbors, let them know I just had a bad day. I am really a nice guy.

How To Clean A Foreman Grill

I take so very much from the internet. I watch funny videos, I read interesting things, I get live scoring for fantasy baseball and football, I stream episodes of The Office through Netflix for Wii, and let us not forget the hundreds and hundreds of gigabytes of free porn that are just there for the taking (if one were so inclined). But I never give anything back. Take, take take take take. Sure, I make a blog post once a month or so, and people seem to love my picture of Mr. Burns, but after that? Nada. I do not contribute to any online forums or any comment sections.

But all that changes today! I am giving back to the internets. This is my guide on how to clean a Foreman Grill. I know I searched for answers a while ago, and came up with nothing good, but over time have developed this fool-proof, easy, method of Foreman Grill Cleaning™. (Note: not really a trademark. Well, Lean Mean Fat Reducing Grilling Machine® is, but the other one is just a joke. Granted, ™ doesn't make it a trademark, but whatever).

Step 0--"Oh Noes! I Has A Dirty Foreman!"

(If I had photoshop skills, I would have done a lolcats with this, but alas, I have only rudimentary MSPaint skills)

Yesterday, I made me some delicious porkchops on the Foreman. Afterwards, the grill looked like this: (note: all pictures open up larger if you so desire. Because Detail is key here (ed. note: detail not key))(Post-post note: ARGGHHH, Motherfucker. Ok, so the pictures cannot be opened in a new window for some reason. I spent way too much time trying to get that shit right, and I thought I had it. Oh well. If you use Google Chrome, you can choose "Copy Image URL" with a left click and open in a new tab. If you use IE 8, well enjoy the tiny little picture). (Post Post-Post: I can never leave things alone. There will be a link by each picture, click that, it should open the picture in a new tab. Hopefully.)

That shit gots to get clean. It is some bizarre form of fat and gristle and McCormick's Grill Mates Roasted Garlic and Herb. It is gooey and it is nasty. You can scrap at that shit for hours with the lame plastic tool they give you, scrub with a sponge, get pissed off and scrub with scrubby bristly part of the sponge even though you know that it will peel off some of the teflon (as you will see on my grill once it is clean), or you can follow my simple step by step procedure and have yourself a clean Foreman in mere minutes! Only 19.99! Or free. Plus it takes an hour. Trust me, just keep reading.

Step 1--Ready the Materials

What you need:

1. Dirty Foreman
2. Faucet with running water/bucket of water
3. Paper Towels

Step 2--Easy Like Paper Mache-ing

Take at least three paper towels (without separating them) and get them all nice and wet. Not sopping, but a nice, all over wetness with some dripiness. Squeeze out a little if too wet. Unfurl the wet paper towel into its original sheet size (folded so it is the size of one paper towel sheet). Place on the Foreman like so: Now, press it down into all the grooves to that it is all good and in there. Like this:

Oh yeah, that's the stuff. You finger the Foreman Grill a little bit, it will be good to you. It just needs a little loving.

Now, some of the grease and nastiness will start to be absorbed by the wet paper towels

Step 3--The Waaaiiting is the Hardest Part (For Realz YO!)

I leave the Foreman Grill dirty until I intend on using it again. Then, when I get home from work and say to my imaginary butler, "Hey, I think I am going to do some quasi-grilling tonight!" I get to work on Steps 0-2. Then, I do p90x. This usually takes about an hour. So step three is letting the wet paper towel sit on the Foreman for an hour. If you choose not to work out, here are some other things you can do that will take an hour:

1. Drive at 60 mph for 30 min in any direction. Then drive back. If you think you are a bad ass, drive 90 mph for 30 min.
2. Watch 1.5 innings of a Yankees-Red Sox game
3. Read everything I have posted in the last five years.
4. Watch Two episodes of the Simpsons. If you are fucking LAME! Because I know you are cool, make that Three episodes of The Simpsons because you have the DVDs
5. Look up "Tacoma Narrows Bridge" on Wikipedia
6. Drink three beers
7. Go to the Grocery Store and get yourself some fresh veggies to go with the delicious meat you are about to cook. Or go there and get the biggest fucking steak you can find that will fit on the grill. Because meat is awesome.

Step 4--The Big Reveal!

Upon lifting your Foreman lid, you shall see that the nasty has permeated the paper towels. This is good. If it looks the same as when you first put the paper towel down, you, my friend, have failed. And I cannot help you.

But for the Alpha Males, you should see something like this:

Well, if you are an Alpha Male, yours is probably better looking than mine. But that is neither here nor there *Ahem, *Cough Cough.

Step 5--Scraping the Bottom of the Barrel

At this point, I think it is important to note the time that I took each picture. Just so you understand how undeniably awesome my method is. Because it is gonna take a few pics to realize that. And since I am not charging $19.95, I have no reason to lie. I hope. Anyway, the picture immediately above, was taken at 5:12 pm (I am unable to account for seconds, so for that, I apologize (but it's really Research in Motion's fault))

Now, spread out your fingers, apply pressure to the paper towel, and pull down. If you stopped halfway through, it might look like this: (5:12 pm)

But do not stop halfway through. Continue to use the paper towel as if you were cleaning the Foreman regularly from top to bottom.

The underside of the paper towel will look something like this: (5:12 pm)

If you cook something like chicken or porkchops, you may disappointed by the results (with steak, this reveal is jaw dropping), but fear not, it is not as bad as it looks: (5:12 pm)

Yeah, that does not look all that clean. Have Faith though.

Step 6--The Wet Wipe

Those who are better than us, but not fantastically awesome enough to have a bidet, use baby wipes to wipe their ass after taking a shit. And you need to treat your Foreman with the same type of affection a multi-millionaire treats his or her bunghole. But not with a baby wipe. That shit is expensive. Baby's have it so fucking good. What a joke. Wait, back to the foreman thing. Wet another paper towel or too, and wipe down the Foreman again. If you are particularly frugal, you can use the same paper towel that was draped across the Foreman for an hour, just refold it (as you do your dust rag when you do that dusting chore once a year) to the crap encrusted upon it is on the inside.

And hey, its starting to look better: (5:13 pm)

Step 7--The Dry Wipe

The common man uses normal toilet paper, with no bit of moisture to its name (though I suppose one could wet it in the sink first, but then one would use eight times the normal amount of TP for wiping. Not that I have charted this or anything). The common man should not compromise on the number of plys though. It has to be at least two. Worst thing about shitting in public is the recycled sandpaper single ply they make you use. Fuck that shit. Sorry, got distracted again (this fucking post is taking me like three goddamn hours. This is why I never post).

So take your dry paper towel and wipe down the grill. Bear in mind, a little bit of elbow grease is needed to make sure you are getting in the cracks and up against the grilling grooves. And I took a picture of this for some reason: (5:13 pm)

Looking pretty good there Stud! There is still a little work that needs to be done in the corners, but all will be cleared out in the next step. Promise.

Step 8--The Roof, The Roof, The Roof is on Fire. We Don't Need No Water, Let the Motherfucker Burn!

Yes, I have talked nothing about cleaning the lid. A relatively non-grimy lid will look like this: (5:14 pm)

Usually you get some burned shit up there. I just lower the lid, and blindly scrape all that shit off with the plastic scraper they provide. This way, most of the remnants fall onto the bottom surface of the grill, rather than into the hinge cracks or underneath it. Just makes it easier. Plus, the top is fucking easy to clean. So after scraping, I usually do another dry paper towel run on the bottom and the top.

If that does not get it clean, the one more Wet paper towel, dry paper cycle should get the shit clean, so you have something sparkling like this: (5:14 pm).

And that, is the All Clean photo. Note that it took three minutes for me to clean (5:12-5:14) after the hour long cold compress.

I hope this helps you in all of your fat reducing fake grill cleaning endeavors.

Please note: I seem to recall that chicken leavings are a bitch to clean. I will cook chicken tomorrow and update this on Thursday if I feel that my step-by-step directions were in anyway shitty in the means of cleaning chicken goop.