Southpark me

Since I don't really have the opportunity to meet in person with any of the thronging hoards who read this blog, I went to this page to create myself as a Southpark character.

Here I am...

Post a link to the Southpark you in the comments, so I can virtually see what you would look like in Southpark, Colo.


tagged: Southpark

Nice to meat you

Welcome back. I hope everyone stateside had a great Thanksgiving, and everyone outside the US had a great, fourth week of November.

I know I did. We traveled to the middle of Kansas to visit my Supermodel Wife's supermodel mother and stepfather. I say it was the middle of Kansas, but it was actually the exact geographic center of the continental United States (at least, that's what the Lebanon, Kan., Chamber of Commerce says).

The trip gave me an opportunity to meet two individuals that will be very important to me when spring arrives.

They are known as No. 01 and No. 14. These two individuals are not agents of some super-secret organization, rather, those are the numbers on the eartags of the cattle that will become our beef in a couple of months.

It's all part of my campaign not to buy commercially produced "feedlot" beef. It's not that I'm any kind of animal rights fanatic. I mean, I still intend to eat a lot of beef. In fact, I'm getting a new smoker specifically for the preparation of briskets and the like.

But ever since reading an article in the NY Times a few years ago, I just don't want to risk consuming a force fed animal. The article points out that most beef is corn fed, and cows are ill-equipped to handle eating grains.

In fact, force feeding corn to cows makes them sick and they can die unless they are also force fed antibiotics and growth hormones. All of which can end up as residual elements of the beef that they become.

American regulators permit hormone implants on the grounds that no risk to human health has been proved, even though measurable hormone residues do turn up in the meat we eat. These contribute to the buildup of estrogenic compounds in the environment, which some scientists believe may explain falling sperm counts and premature maturation in girls. Recent studies have also found elevated levels of synthetic growth hormones in feedlot wastes; these persistent chemicals eventually wind up in the waterways downstream of feedlots, where scientists have found fish exhibiting abnormal sex characteristics.

Scary enough to make me think I might as well cut out the middle man. Get my own cow, grow it (or, have my stepfatherinlaw grow it) and have it butchered. It's like a fun do-it-yourself project. It seems healthier and it's definitely cheaper, and I get the meat from a reputable source (myself).

Plus, I think it's better for your soul to be close to the food you eat. So I guess I should carry this through with the rest of my diet.

Does anyone know where I can get some Twinkie seeds?


tagged: beef, Lebanon, feedlot

Jedi Marketing Trick

One quick post before I hit the road for some holiday travel.

One of my coworkers knows the guy who developed the SithSense marketing flash for Burger King. I didn't really see BK choosing the Dark Lord for their spokesman, but this flash is pretty funny... and strangely accurate.

tagged: marketing, Darth Vader, Star Wars, Burger King, flash

Targeted by Marketing Guerrillas

I was sitting in the bar of the Hotel Rouge in DC the other day sipping a Manhattan with some business associates when we were approached by a little hottie carrying a wine bottle.

I assumed, as anyone would, that she was a waitress at the hipster hangout. But I learned in the next few moment the waitress gettup was camouflage.

She approached our table and offered: "Hi, I wonder if you would mind trying a free sample of our new wine, Virgin Vines Shiraz."

Wha!?! I never thought I would hear the words "free," "virgin," and "sample" in the same sentence. And even though I can think of a better context for hearing those three words, I've never been one to turn down an offer of free booze.

But let me be clear. Virgin Vines is from the famous Richard Branson (err.. ahem..) Sir Richard Branson Virgin franchise.

That's right, the people who brought you Virgin Records, Virgin Atlantic Airlines, Virgin Mobile and Virgin Partially Gelatinated Non Dairy Gum Based Beverages, now brings you Virgin Vines from California's Napa valley.

Based on the website, Branson and Co. are targeting a younger, club-scene demographic. But you know what? Even though this old fart doesn't fit that demographic (I'm all of 35 years now), the Shiraz was pretty damn good and I'll probably buy a few bottles.

So I fell victim to the guerrilla marketing tactic. And if you've read this far, so have you.

tagged: marketing, wine, Shiraz, Virgin

Corporate Jet Lag

It's good to be back after a business trip to the coast. I had a great trip with lots of productive meetings. Unfortunately, there was one event that left deep and permanent emotional and psychological scars.

The corporate jet.

You see, I was given the opportunity to take my company's corporate jet out to the coast, rather than fly commercial with the plebs and riffraff.

It was oh so sweet. The Gulfstream GII had plenty of leg room for my five-foot-fourteen-inch frame. The cushy Barcalounger chairs were a welcome change from the back-breaking boards you're strapped to on a commercial airliner. The other passengers on the plane were all professionals, so they were courteous and pleasant to talk to.

A breakfast of fresh fruit and pastries and hot coffee was served by a delightful attendant who was attentive and polite and genuinely seemed to enjoy her job.

Yes, I would say it was by far the best flight experience I've ever had. So, why the emotional scars? Well, it has absolutely spoiled me for "regular" air travel.

My return flight was on United Airlines out of Dulles airport. If you've never been to Dulles before, count yourself lucky. It's like a stockyard compared to just about any other airport in the country. Upon arrival, you are herded down a series of chutes for flight check-in, followed by another series of chutes for security inspection.

Once you pass though security (and get you shoes back on), you rush down several corridors to the LOADING DOCK that takes you to you gate. That's right. you get on truck/bus that drives you across the tarmac to a barn-like structure that is the departure gate.

Now, if you're unfortunate enough to be a United Express customer, you are packed like cattle into this barn/departure gate to await the boarding call for you flight. When that comes, you are taken outside into a steel garage, herded once again down livestock chute out onto the tarmac where you get onto your plane.

Well, after my experience on the corporate jet where I was treated like a passenger rather than cargo, I just can't go back to regular commercial flight. I've decided to sell my home and everything I own and buy my own Gulfstream. I found one online for the bargain price of $1.4 million.

The way I see it, people live in motor homes or houseboats, why not just live in a Gulfstream?

The rest of you commoners can have the commercial flights (although, I strongly recommend you stay away from United).

Driver's seat

Well, I'm feeling much better now. My leukocyte and killer T-cells have finally fought off the Mutant Avian Flu Plague and I'm now able to sleep through the night. Thanks to Mi'chelle for the medical advice.

Now, back to our regularly scheduled blogging.

I ran across The Taxi flash while blogsurfing. This is pretty funny, especially when pressing the 's' and 'h' keys on the keyboard. Enjoy.

Amelie Friday

It's Friday, that means it's time to play The Amelie Game.

You know the rules, three likes and three dislikes for the week. This week, I'm starting with dislikes:

Things I dislike

• mutant head cold strains
  
• two flat tires in one week
  
• teeth-scaling implements used by dentists

Things I like

• free WiFi at Homer's
  
• Matt's Tawney Port
  
• telecommuting

Okay, now let's see what you like/dislike this week.

Autorantic Virutal Moonbat

The other day, my supermodel wife was on the phone with her cousin, who just chose a college and will be a freshman next year. Somehow, the conversation came around to why my supermodel wife is a liberal and how evil the Repulicans are.

Most of the conversation didn't make much sense to me. Probably because I was only hearing one of the parties (my supermodel wife) and trying to watch the latest episode of HBO's Rome at the same time.

Luckily, I found Sean Gleeson's Autorantic Virutal Moonbat. This handy device allows me to recreate the conversation with stunning accuracy.



I know it's been around for a while now, so this is yesterday's news to a lot of you. But it's new to me.

Good news/bad news

It's one of those good news/bad news days for me.

The bad news is that I still feel like shit. This is the strangest cold I've ever had. Really dry drainage into my throat. That's gross I know, so I won't go into the details.

But the good news is that I probably don't have Avian Flu. I rule this out because I don't make a habit of sucking the mucus out of fighting cocks.

Sometimes trainers go mouth-to-mouth with wounded birds to suck out blood and mucus. A trainer was one of 12 Thais killed by bird flu last year.

But the bad news is that I think I might have contracted Evian Flu from a tainted bottle of drinking water.

Halloween hangover

Ingredients:

• 1 Headcold
• overdose of cold medicine
  
• way too much of my kid's candy
  
• visiting Matt and Andrea and drinking Matt's Porto
  
• staying up too late, getting up too early

Mix in equal parts. Enjoy.