My Own Business

I found out today from my good friend Chavez that any ol' "Joe Nobody" can in fact own their own business for a mere 100 bucks. All you have to do is go to your local City Hall and file the paperwork, and then WHAM! You got a business. This led me to believe that I should open a plethora of business with names that have actually nothing to do with anything. At least I'd be CEO, CFO and Sr. stockholder. So today I am going to open up the forum for all (2) of my readers to chime in on business they would like me to own. You must also come up with either a mission statement or a slogan as well. Here is some grease for the fire...

"Limp Like Old Celery Inc."

"Bananas Bananas Bananas, Importers of Fine Swiss Mercenaries"

"Dondilinger Express"

"Suck it Trebeck!"

"I got yer WANG CHUNG Right Here Ltd."

"I done killed a ho for less..."

Beware the Chimichanga Plate

So after a great holiday work party with a kick ass dance and a whole lot of fun I didn't really feel like cooking. I decided to go to Zona Rosa and get some dinner for the wife and me. She got the standby burrito but I felt like getting a little bit crazy and I had the chimichanga plate.

This would be my downfall.

The golden fried burritos had always beckoned to me but I had always resisted. These tasty looking morsels sit out next to the other food. I am told by a co-worker that is a food safety person that anything from 40-140 degrees is the "danger zone." These things look like they sit in the "danger zone" for about 10 hours a day.

So some dinosaurs called my telephone at about 1:30 am the next morning. I had to take the call from about 1:30 to 8:30. It was like a scene out of a Jim Carrey movie. I was alternating puking and diarrhea for 7 hours before my body was just so tired that I collapsed for about 24 hours in hot sweats and cold pains. It is really hard to puke on top of diarrhea, the smell of the two together with my head buried in the toilet. UGH!

There was also a time when I was hallucinating... from bad fried burrito.

On the plus side I lost about 10 pounds.

Haight Rats Are Stupid!

I was accosted this morning walking to work. Every day my route takes me through the Haight and Stanyan intersection for those that are unfamiliar this is very close to "hippie-hill." Which should probably be more closely named "dirty-drug-addicted-teenagers-who-ran-away-from-home because-their-Step-Dad-Bill-doesen't-own-me hill." On my way to work this morning at about 7:30 AM I hear someone yelling.

"Hey, Hey You!"

I paid no attention.

"Hey I'm talking to you"

Aww crap I think to myself... this is it. As I turn and look I think to myself. "He's smaller than me, and younger than me. If the shit hits the fan I can take him"

"WHAT!?" I yell at him.

To which he replies "You need some herbs? I gots fluffy nugs"

I yell back at him "It is 7:30. I am well dressed. You think I got here by getting high first thing in the morning on a Friday?"

That shut him up. I really don't need hard-sell drugs first thing in the morning. I hate haight rats.

Charlie Chan says "Suck it"

I wish I had my own Charlie Chan fighting robot. I would make it do my job for me so that I didn't have to do paperwork. When things got tough I would just turn him loose on idiots and I would program all sorts of cool catch phrases for him to exclaim before he killed. Such as:

"Where the hood at?"

"I eat children!"

"Make mine a double."

"Life ain't nothin but bitches and hoes."

"Super-chouete!"

"Dow Cargill owns your ass!"

Basically he would be a lean mean killing machine that would confuse people so that there last minute on earth was as incoherent as they made my life before my robot took their life.

"I got a fever, and the only prescription is MORE COWBELL!"

What else should Charlie Chan say?