September 21st, 2003

Tom Lehrer is Smug

(no subject)

There are certain things in this world that are tasty.
There are certain things in this world that are deep-fried.

Deep Fried Oreos, however, are not tasty, nor should they be deep-fried in the first place. They have no place in a deep-fat fryer, much less an amusement park, unless perhaps the Oreos (non-fried) have been crushed up and put into Cookies & Cream ice cream or something.

I'm not really surprised to see them at an amusement park, though. Parks are rife with novelty food, from Dippin Dots ("The Ice Cream of the Future!") to Barvarian Nuts ("See 'Em Made!") to those sundaes in crazy hotdog form. Sometimes we get ourselves a bona-fide hit from the novelty food, like hot dog buns or ice cream cones, but other times we get shit that you'll eat once in your life, and you might just be doing it if only to tell people years on down the road "Oh, yeah, I remember that fad. Had it once. Never again." Such is the case with the deep frying fad.

It's not just Oreos, though. You can also get deep fried Twinkies. I haven't tried them. I probably won't. I mean, not after the Oreos. They cost $2.99 for six -- okay, that's fifty cents a cookie. Consider how many you get in a pack for $2.99 at the supermarket, consider the park probably gets 'em for much cheaper, and realize what a tidy profit margin they got there even including staff pay, fat, and batter. Anyway, you'll probably only want one really. During frying, the Oreo cookie sogs out. The creme (lard) filling dissolves into the cookie. And you're left with this warm black mush encased in batter and it's not even tasty warm black mush. Perhaps I was expecting something along the lines of warm devil's food cake, or delicious pudding cake, but I didn't get that. I got untasty Oreo goop that leaked, color-wise, through the deep frying. It looked like the stuff inside was burnt. No good.

And then there was the powdered sugar. All over. No good. And every time I tried the ol' Annie Hall sneeze joke, I got more of it over me than over everything else. Perhaps that's part of the joke, but hey. It at least got rid of some of the powdered sugar. Didn't help, though.

I had two. That's all I could stand. I think someone else took one for me out of pity but I ended up with three deep fried Oreos that I couldn't even give away. And I didn't wanna give 'em to kids cause you know, there's already enough childhood trauma in the world that I don't need to voluntarily contribute more. "I guess that's why they call it disposable income," it was said, as the plate plonked in the trash can.

On the plus side, we came up with a smashing idea for Knoebels -- Deep Fried Anything. That's right, for just $20 you can deep-fry anything your heart desires in our clean, piping hot deep fat fryers! (Object must fit in our Fryer-Size-Guide before you fry.) I think it'd be a hit.

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Tom Lehrer is Smug

(no subject)

Today NASA is crashing Galileo into Jupiter so that it can hyper-evolve, David Bowman-like, and turn into a cute little starbaby. That's cool. I figured I'd catch the OMG LIVE WEBCAST at 2, wave bye-bye, and then take a nap. Cause I really need to take a nap. I'm tired, which means I need to take a nap.

Only the webcast is showing me lots of talking heads. Lots and lots and lots of talking heads. Some of them are interesting and have interesting things to say about the Galileo project, others are about as dry as something very dry like a desert or something. And there's no spectacular crash and burn talk, nor even any spectacular "here's the blip, and now here's the absence of the blip" footage, either. (I know we're not going to get any SUPER SPECTACULAR AMAZING POV CRASHING FOOTAGE, since that's Hollywood, not Real Life, so I'm more than content to watch the blip/no-blip changeover and know that yeah, that's how we have to see it.)

Then they turn to a clock showing the ETA of the probe's impact, and the ETA of when we'll actually receive the signal. The actual impact will happen in under a half hour. The signal ETA is about an hour and a half away. Oh. Well. Um. The talking heads are nice and all, but I'd rather take a nap until then.

So I'm going to take a little nap now and know that as I snooze, some little probe is making its final death run towards a huge gaseous thingy. And when I wake up, I expect confirmation, dammit.