A Fruit Loops taste test, leaving my milk out and the fight for air conditioning

Moving in with someone is a big step. There are always things about the other person that will annoy the shit out of you, and living with them just monumentally magnifies them. You’ll also have certain loyalties to grocers, brands and how you sort your laundry…probably all based on what you grew up with and what your parents always bought for their fridge, etc. I personally enjoy a bowl of Fruit Loops here and there. Jay never expressed any concern about it. He wouldn’t try to fight me on the Fruit Loops front; he knows not to mess with a chick and her Fruit Loops. Until one day he decided to do the grocery shopping. I didn’t mind, but adamantly told him not to forget the Fruit Loops. “Don’t come back here unless there are Fruit Loops in your car,” I believe were my exact words.

When he finally came home with the groceries I helped him unload because I knew I’d get to my Fruit Loops faster that way. Then, to my severe disappointment, I found an enormous plastic bag of “Fruitie-O’s.” I kept looking for my Fruit Loops thinking he probably got those for himself. None were found. I re-investigated the four-foot tall cereal bag of “Fruitie-O’s.” He must be joking. I continued to throw a temper tantrum about my missing Fruit Loops and how he must not love me if he didn’t get them for me. No, seriously – I said that to him.

Insisting that they taste the same as Fruit Loops, he begged me to try the “Fruitie-O’s.” I’m not unreasonable! So, I agreed. Up until my second bite, I actually convinced myself they were the same cereal just with different packaging. That was short lived. I could taste the difference, but at this point all I could think to ask was “why?” WHY. Following some further complaining, Jay left the house and returned with not only a box of Fruit Loops, but another generic brand, “Fruit Rings.” Its mascot was a green alligator. I mean, really? Determined to prove his point, he continued to subject me to a blind taste test. YES a BLIND-EFFING-TASTE TEST.

Without going into detail, I’ll just tell you that I successfully matched each fruit loop specimen to its appropriate packaging. The two knock-offs were a bit of a challenge, but in the end, I prevailed. Jay believes I, in some way, cheated of course.

If you think of it in terms of pharmaceuticals, generic drugs only need to come within “plus-or-minus” twenty percent bioequivalence of the active ingredient in brand name drugs (as regulated by the FDA). That means that “Fruitie-O’s” probably only has 20% of the SAME ingredients that Fruit Loops has. Well, what’s the other 80% of the cereal??? Am I right? Or AM I RIGHT?

I’m all about saving mula; don’t get me wrong. I just don’t mind splurging on a quality box of 100% Fruit Loops. It annoys Jay almost as much as when I leave a half-drunken glass of milk out on the coffee table and then head up for bed. It’s just part of my routine. I drink a half glass of milk, go upstairs and turn the air conditioning on to 60 degrees before climbing under the covers. I like to pretend I’m in an igloo when I sleep. Then Jay comes right behind me and turns it back to 90 degrees. The fight for air conditioning continues to this very day.

What the CUSS?

I remember the first time I said the "F" word. Who encouraged it or where I learned it from really doesn't matter because cursing only taught me the finer art of rhyming random words together to sound like cursing. Beautiful phrases such as "Shut the Front Door," "Son of a biscuit-eater," "Son of a bee sting," "Mother trucker," and many more came about. They can carry all the same drama and emotion as their profane counterparts, just without the offensive nature.

Generally, I avoid using expletives unless in an emotionally stressful situation. Banging my knee into the wall and stubbing my big toe both qualify as such.  One of my biggest pet peeves is when people use the "F" word for no substantial reason, though I'll admit I've let it slip occasionally for less.  

What's a dirty mouth to do?

Enter: Fantastic Mr. Fox.  You may have heard of this extremely funny and underrated movie. Among some of the genius production ideas in FMF, is the war on swearing.  Throughout the movie, Mr. Fox and all of the other characters replace the word, "cuss" for actual profanity. I know, right? FUN.

It works as follows: What the cuss? Shut your cussing mouth! Son of a cuss. This is such a cluster-cuss. Don't be such a cuss-bag. I sure as cuss hope so. Why the cuss didn't I listen to my lawyer?

 

The possibilities are cussing endless. Enter: the Fantastic Cuss Challenge!

Here's your chance to show people your brain is capable of forming sentences without  profanely rhyming each adjective with "luck." To enter, just post a blog entry using "cuss" in place of all swear words and leave a comment with the link to it below; you can also tweet to enter and see below for more ways to earn extra ballots!

First place will be chosen by a panel of judges based on creativity, uses of the word cuss, and commitment to the challenge. First prize is Fantastic Mr. Fox on DVD AND a shiny, glossy $30 gift card to Chick-Fil-A, well, because the whole movie is about Mr. Fox plotting elaborate plans to steal and kill chickens for the mere enjoyment in the rush that comes with stealing and killing chickens. I mean, don't let that upset you; he is a FOX.  Second prize is a $20 Gift Card to Chick-Fil-A and will be chosen by random draw.

Earn extra ballots for the random drawing:

• Each Tweet where you replace all swear words with the word "cuss" and use the hashtag #CussYeah, you get one entry into the contest.
• You can earn up to 2 entries a day by Tweeting within the criteria mentioned above. Each Tweet counts as a ballot. The more you Tweet about the Fantastic Cuss Challenge, the better your chances to win!
• To receive a bonus ballot: promote the contest to your Twitter followers with a link to this blog post. Be sure to include the hashtag #CussYeah to receive your bonus ballot entry.

If you're writing a blog post, be sure to grab the Fantastic Cuss Challenge blog button!

<a href="http://www.numbersnotinvited.com/" target="_blank"><img border="0" alt="Numbers Not Invited" src="

http://img338.imageshack.us/img338/5448/fantasticmrfoxsmaller2.jpg"/></a>

I'm running the contest until 5:00 p.m. on Thursday, June 17 and I look forward to reading your Fantastic Cuss phrases, tweets and blog posts!

Happy cussing!
B

Dear Mr. Spricket

Dear Mr. Spricket,

I missed you on my first foggy-eyed walk down the hallway this morning. You got lucky. It wasn't until my second trip back from kitchen-to-couch that I noticed you latched on to the side of the dining room crown molding with your sticky little spider legs. I'm not sure if you came from outside or in, and to be honest with you, I didn't care very much about it when I panicked and rummaged the kitchen in desperation for a killing device.

Even though there was a towel in the laundry room that was probably the closest solution to snagging you, I couldn't stomach the idea of hearing the crunch of your tiny body between my finger tips or feeling your last squirmy attempt for a getaway during your final seconds of life. Plus the towel would have been tainted, and that towel was expensive.

The next thing I spotted was a spatula, but for fear the handle would not provide a long enough distance between us for my likely-inaccurate swat, I kept looking for an alternative. While I was looking, I thought you might be running to hide, so I peeked over the fridge to make sure you were still there. Indeed, you had not moved. I know it's no secret my species is superior, but I'm thinking that was a bad move on your part.

It was not long before I found the fly swatter and I knew right away it was the perfect choice. Moses had my back and he stood behind me as the second round of the cavalry in case you dodged me and he had to attack. I stood there watching you for a few minutes, contemplating your next move, watching your tentacles wave around in the air.

I knew my swing had to be steady and accurate. Finally, I had you right wear I wanted you. SWAT! Down you went. While I was proud of my successful contact, I immediately felt your spidery soul attacking my neck. It felt like I had creepy crawlies all over me and I continued to jump around flipping my hair about in disgust to rid them. I'm sure the neighbor got a good laugh at my epileptic-like body shake and arm flail. A few seconds later, the feeling subsided. 

Now, the search for your carcass. I whacked the swatter pretty hard against the wall, but the swing also came with instantaneous short memory loss and I could not remember where your body flew to.  After some searching, Moses finally found you. A relief to me, you lay there lifeless. Silently cursing my husbands name for not being there to take care of you, I reached again for the swatter. It scooped your body up effortlessly and I hurriedly carried you to the garbage. Thankfully, it has a lid...just in case you got a second wind.

I know killing you means you wont be able to run home and warn your friends. I'm hoping your not returning to them will send the right message.

Some days you're the bug. Others you're the swatter. Today, my friend, was not your day.

Eternally,

Bridget

Standing the test of time: Eight games that are still fun as shit

Let the nostalgia begin.

UNO (circa 1971): I get excited just thinking about the beautiful continuous flow of matching colors and numbers. And then, BAM, a Wild card rocks your world. The real action is with the Reverse, Skip, Draw Two, and Draw Four. And if you're a serious UNO gamer like myself, you could be in the league of some Trade Hands, Discard All and the famous Wild All Hit.  So even when you’re close to winning, the other players could pull a fast one on you.  Or maybe you build up a little strategy: gather a huge card collection and then wait for a Trade Hands to sabotage your neighbor. All's fair in love and UNO. Not privy to the Trade Hands card? Oh, you're missing out.

Scrabble (Circa 1938): Is "bunghole" a word? Some may think mentioning this word is grounds for removal from the dinner table.  In fact, "bunghole", is a word meaning "a hole for emptying or filling a cask, keg, or barrel" and worth about 14 points, to boot. But what's the fun in Scrabble without a few naysayers? Enjoy the overwhelming sense of gratification you'll feel when you prove your case with a dictionary and score yourself a few bonus points in the process.

Duck Duck Goose(Circa 1700-1800s): Go ahead and try to tell me you wouldn't engage in a good ole fashioned game of duck duck goose if given the chance. Whether you're waiting in anticipation as a duck ready to spring up out of your Indian-style squat with each tap to the head, or you're making your way around the perimeter of the duck circle plotting your next head tap and picking out the weakest link to chase you, the entertainment is truly endless. Besides that, no props are needed. Gather up your weakest friends for a guaranteed win and start tapping away. Ages 2+

LCR (Circa 2002): Left. Center. Right. The beauty is in the simplicity. The game is played with three dice and a handful of chips, but it can provide excitement equivalent to a high-stakes horse race.

Guess Who? (Circa 1979): Ah, to learn the remedial lesson of the process of elimination. Guessing characteristics about your opponent's person is fun and all, but Momma didn't raise no fool. The real fun is learning about these unique cartoon characters and the lives they REALLY lead. 'Max' is  the Jersey Shore's original Guido, twelve years retired. 'Richard' is a curator at the local museum and has a fetish for feet and 'Susan' was actually born a man. God help you if you draw 'Anne.' She's got one characteristic none of the others possess, and it's a dead giveaway.

Ouija (Circa 1100 B.C.): In what other game can you successfully and effortlessly scare the shit out of your friends and/or claim paranormal psychic abilities and have people believe you? Shocking the hell out of the people you love and/or making them doubt your sanity never gets old.

Wheel of Fortune (Circa 1975): The beauty of Vanna White's delicate arm touching those peaceful squares; the magic of letters appearing in each box with one dust of a finger; the harmonizing ticks as the wheel spins around and around; the utter embarrassment you feel when shouting out spontaneously what you thought certain was the puzzle answer but then realize you were way (like, way out in left field) wrong instantly proving your incompetence to standers-by ...all these things contribute to the classiness that is the Wheel of Fortune. And it is time-honored F. U. N.

Checkers: KING ME! A simple game of harmonious and strategic "jumping" of two colors of discs until just one color is left on the board. Capturing an opponents checkers is a duty and a privilege which sometimes requires a sacrificial lamb from your own heard. So goes life. Still, Checkers has been around for centuries serving as good-natured competition and wholesome amusement. Plus, you'll never run into someone who DOESN'T know how to play. It's so easy, a caveman could do it. Umm...

She's Out of My League and the scientific Twysics method

Twitter is a lot like dating. You're first judged by your looks, you're presented with a hundred relationship opportunities at once, and finally, you pick out the ones you like and date (read: follow) them.

There is a science to dating (read: following) people. Learn the science and unlock the key to the status quo. This science was recently described best in the sometimes profane and sporadically comical, "She's Out of my League." The film presents a foolproof system of calculating a person's romantic potential.  It begins with a simple one to 10 rating system, with 10 being the best , the top of the dating food chain, and one the worst.  

From that initial number, you can apply exemptions, add-ons and deductions.  If you drive a shit box, deduct a point. Similarly, you can get a "point bump" for being in a band or doing a little manscaping.  According to the movie however, you can only date within a two point range of your own number. 

Applied to Twysics*, this dating science can be extremely applicable to how we follow/unfollow on Twitter. Everyone starts out with a 10, and then apply exemptions and deductions to find out their real number. And of course, don't follow outside of your league (the two point jump). First, a self evaluation:

@BridgetForney

* Tweets about clients not everyone gives a shit about = deduct a point

* Has a reasonable following = point bump

* Sometimes disappears from Twitter with no notice = deduct a point

* Posts Foursquare check-ins to Twitter = deduct a point

* On 72 lists = point bump

* Frequently uses Twitter for shameless self promotion = deduct a point

* Full of pithy commentary = point bump

* Cool profile pic = point bump

* Knows shit about math and science = deduct a point

* May name drop occasionally = deduct a point

* Witty bio = point bump

Right now, I'm at a pretty solid nine. Below I've taken the liberty of rating a few of my fellow tweeters. It's nothing personal. This is all in the name of science. Twysics at its best.

@BmoreBrian

* Fuzzy profile pic = deduct a point

* Dissimilar interests = deduct a point

* Healthy Following to Follower ratio = point bump

* Met in real life = point bump

* No blog, or website reference of any kind in bio = deduct a point

* Not on many lists = deduct a point

* Posts Foursquare check-ins to Twitter = deduct a point

* Baltimore local = point bump

* Watches Dancing With The Stars = deduct a point

* Lack of humor in the bio = deduct a point

* Memorable Twitter handle = point bump

We're follow friends on Twitter. On a side note: who eats sushi like a sumo wrestler? This guy. (Placed 4th in a sushi-eating contest.)

@JamieVaron

* "Inspirational" bio that really tells you nothing about the person = deduct a point

* Unhealthy Following to Follower ratio = deduct a point

* You have a better chance of dying in an airplane than getting a follow back = deduct a point

* Has a friggin' sweet ass blog = point bump

* Twitter background matches sweet ass blog = point bump

* Misleading "innocent" photo = point bump

* Frequently talks about consuming alcohol = point bump
* Sporadic tweeter = deduct a point

* Full of pithy commentary = point bump

Jamie is what Stainer, the ultimate arbiter of the rating system who explains the complex algorithms that form its basis, would call, "a HARD 10." The top of the following food chain.


@MCasalena

* Protects his tweets = deduct a point
* Low follower rate = deduct a point
* Rarely retweets or @replies = deduct a point
* Web link goes to Facebook profile = deduct a point
* Semi-absent on Twitter = deduct a point
* Profile pic is a modeling photo = point bump
* Likely to cause Twitter drama = deduct a point
* Sometimes tweets in ALL CAPS = point bump
* Incomplete sentence in bio = deduct a point
* On only ONE list = deduct a point
* Friends in real life = point bump

@MCasalena is the Kirk to my Molly. Yes, he's out of my league with an even four point spread, but due to his unparalleled sense of humor and our real life friendship, we're quite perfect for each other.

@Ewisdomcom

* Random follow request = deduct a point
* Updates all about selling your business = deduct a point
* No person repping the account = deduct a point
* Spammy = deduct a point
* Links all go to business website = deduct a point
* Not a person I have anything in common with = deduct a point
* Thinks I'm just another number for their follower count = deduct a point
* "Name" in bio matches "Web" in bio = deduct a point

We're not friends. You're far out of my league. Don't send me a random follow request to pimp out your website. Kaythanks.

I think you guys get the picture. I tried to rate different kinds of Tweeps with different follower ratios, different profile pictures and thus, different number ratings.  The point is, everyone has a Follow Back Protocol. What's yours? How do you decide who to follow, who to unfollow and who to follow back?

Moreover, how do you rate?

*Twysics: The science of Twitter physics. (Yes, I made this word up.)

You might as well leave your door unlocked, and three other reasons you're a fool to check in at home on Foursquare

Ah, Foursquare, you bring out my most competitive nature while providing me with yet another reason to whip out my cell phone in times of awkward silences. I am currently the mayor of two places, with 23 total nights out and seven badges. As I think this clearly demonstrates, I'm not a compulsive user.  I've checked in a total of 74 times to clubs, restaurants, bars, theaters and even my favorite department stores. But I draw the line at my front door step.

Don't get me wrong, I love checking in as much as the next bloke, but if you check in at home you might as well leave the door to your house unlocked.  I get the benefits; you check in at home and you're pretty much guaranteed mayorship, you can gain points on a daily basis and it can help unlock badges. I get it. But here are three reasons you're a fool to check in at home on Foursquare...

1. I mean come on, when it comes right down to it, you're really just cheating. Treachery. How the hell do you sleep at night?

2. Based on your check-ins at other places, you've promptly indicated that you are not at home. Sounds like an opportune time for a robbing, if I do say so myself. Hope that new badge was worth your 32" Plasma TV.

3. I am going to check in at your house on Foursquare. If it doesn't freak you out when I become the mayor of your private residence, maybe you deserve to be robbed.

Self-checkout for dummies

The average person's grocery shopping experience is determined by how smoothly they get through the checkout line. Most of the time, unfortunately, they're an absolute nightmare. Sure, the gripping cover stories of juicy gossip magazines are mildly entertaining for standing around in the 15-item express lane, but no amount of fabricated tabloids can keep you patient enough to tolerate an anxious middle-aged soccer mom with four screaming kids and a slow-moving elderly woman on a motorized roll cart in front of you, each with $200 worth of groceries.  Sadly, the alternative isn't much better.

First developed circa 1990's, self-checkout lanes were introduced to give the illusion that a four-cash register self-checkout station somehow turns out shoppers faster than a 16-year old cashier managing a single file line.  Psychologically, it makes sense...waiting for four registers should be quicker than waiting for one. In reality however, it never is. Mostly because people are idiots.

Exhibit A: Stupid people with loose vegetables or pay-per-pound items.

Everyone knows that self-checkout stations are not vegetable-friendly. The general rule of thumb should be that if it doesn't have a bar code, toss it or get the hell out of the self-checkout area. The ten people behind you are probably not in the mood to watch you fumble around fingering the touch screen in an attempt to weigh your produce.

Exhibit B: Idiots with more than ten items.

Let's be honest.  If you've got $150 worth of Weight Watchers TV dinners and  stacks of Greek yogurt, you're kidding yourself if you think you can scan it all faster than a cashier.  Furthermore you're just holding up the 25 people behind you who, all of a sudden, wish they had stopped by the toy aisle and picked up a baseball bat to beat you with.

Exhibit C: Miscellaneous morons.

• If you're trying to write a check at the self-checkout kiosk, save us all the time and get a debit card. 
• For the love of God, if your cell phone rings, keep your eyes on the prize and do not answer it.
• There is one line for all the machines; find it. Respect it.
• The bar code is somewhere else! Turn it around, flip it over, try something different!

You can sigh heavily, roll your eyes, shift your weight from left to right or even tap your foot, but it won't make these ignorant people get any smarter or move any quicker.  Some people regularly assault the self-checkout line and sadly, there is just nothing you can do about it. 

Who would win in a race between four self-checkout kiosks and one cashier? We may never know.