The Little Caesars Mystery

Dear Little Caesar, I recently purchased one of your hot and ready 5 dollar pizzas and I have a few questions for you... How in the world can you charge only five dollars for a pizza and still make money? The fast food industry is the only business currently going in reverse of inflation? The more I ponder this question, the more troubled I feel about your possible answers. Here are the most plausible methods I think you guys use to generate profits... 1. Pizza ingredients/ I guess you could save some kind of money by buying highly discounted and inferior dough, sauce, and cheese. Where do these ingredients come from? A third world country where little villagers manipulate tomatoes and bread dough? What are the side effects for consuming them? 2. Employees/ Because this is the other cost involved in creating that 5 dollar bargain it must also be source for saving huge revenues. How cheap are your employees? are there rules about hygiene and basic food handling skills? I worry about this one because I imagine highly qualified fast food workers are more expensive and because your pizza is so cheap... well it means your workers must stink. So when you have a second, would you please reveal this mystery to me? See I need to know when I am in the middle of pounding your pizza if if I am consuming pretend food that will give me a strange disease or if I am esimply eating dirty food made by dirty people. PS-while you are at it, could you also ask your buddy Wendy how she profits on her lovely Jr. bacon cheeseburgers? I have similar concerns with her.

Ray LaMontagne

Ray LaMontagne is an amazing recent talent I've discovered. When I heard his voice I thought he was a soulful black man... well take a look at the video and see what you think. Regardless his music is sweet and he just came out with a new album... "till the sun turns black"

The Master Cleanse

Once again I have had a lapse in my blog writing. You'll be happy to know that during my lapse I have created 5 drafts that were never quite good enough to post. They start all cool and then just disappear because I have to get up and do something else. I hate it when people tell me they're busy, mostly because I fell like they are insinuating that I haven't been busy too. But the truth is lately I have barely made time to shower and put clothes on. Anyway on to the title of this blog... For the last four days I have been doing this thing called the master cleanse that some hippie herbalist guy made up to give people diarrhea. The main gist of it is you go on a liquid diet for 10 to 40 days. The real kicker is the liquid you drink is a ghastly assortment of 3 flavors. Here they go: 1. First thing when you wake up you drink 32 ounces of uniodozed salt water. This is the most horrible experience ever. I've done it 4 days now and I mostly stand over he sink gagging. Just thinking about drinking it tomorrow morning makes me want to cry. 2. Throughout the day you drink a lemonade concoction that is definitely no countrytime product. It is freshly squeezed lemon, natural maple syrup, and the real kicker pure cayenne pepper. Each time I swallow it feels like fire tracing down to my gut. 3. This one is actually the best of the three, herbal laxative tea. My particular brand is aptly named "smooth move" for obvious reasons. I can tell you when I am pulling a dumb and dumber on the toilet I don't feel too smooth. Anyway if anyone out there wants and adventure... I dare you to do this thing. Try lasting longer than me. I'll keep you posted.

"Enjoy The Weather"

another lance commercial... I've been super busy.

Lance Armstrong - Nike Commercial - The magnet

Lance Armstrong - Nike Commercial - The magnet

Move and Groove

Well, the DMB concert was stellar and we successfully made the move back to a land of seasons. I need to write a blog now about how Utah's dryness and pollen turns me into a raisin with sinus problems. I was in the process of writing an amazing blog about the drugs scandal in cycling and other sports but my wife "accidentally" erased it (she is so jealous of my precious work). I've been so broken hearted about it, that it has been hard to post again. Nevertheless I will press on and maybe try to re-write it. I am curious, to other bloggers out there. Do you write in word or something and then paste into the blog or just write straight into it. This recent experience has shown me it is a risky proposition with power failures and naughty wives around.

Lucky VIP

Sometimes I really get frustrated with how negative I can be about the events of life. I am sure that if you asked my wife whether I emphasize positive or negative things, she would say negative. I am not sure why that is. Perhaps it is a reflection of my personal paradigm and view of the world. Or maybe it is that a really bad day is so much more satisfying to vent about than a good day. It is somehow therapeutic to describe the unfortuante events of bad traffic, some idiot you encountered, or a clumsy injury you sustained (I recently ran full speed into a closed sliding door but that's another blog). So, as a reaction to my normal tendency I want to share some positive news. I just found out that some friends of ours have secured my wife and I 2 VIP tickets to the upcoming Dave Matthews concert. Apparently they are in some box right by the stage where we are served food? Okay that's insane. I went to a DMB concert like 2 years ago and I saw the VIP box and was consumed with massive concert jealousy. As a sidenote I think the concert pecking order is so funny and weird. It's like the moment we enter the venue we all digress into a temporary caste system based on our seat location and VIP status. That is why mosh pits and general admission is such a favorable survival of the fittest. Anyway, the moral of this story is that I am going to enjoy this concert with all the power I possess and if I start getting down on a bad day I have to remember my VIP night with Dave and company by singing a song from their concert set list, I'll have about 15 songs to choose from. So look for me on the 405 in traffic singing "satellite" at the top of my lungs.

Mercy of Marc

I just discovered that my blog made it out of my buddy's blog graveyard. His mercy and long suffering with me knows no bounds. Thanks.

Climate

Well we're moving out of California and I've got mixed feelings, pure excitement and major sadness. So to make me feel better about leaving the sunshine state I have been thinking of its major downsides. Here is one... Seasons exist for a reason. Over the last year and a half the temperature in Manhattan Beach hasn't deviated more than 10 degress either way and I am beginning to go crazy. The range is typically 72-82 degress. Whats wrong with that you say? I'll tell you. Fourth of July weather was 3 degrees warmer than Christmas weather and Halloween was 1 degree colder than New Years. I have no sense of time and my memory is defunct because I can't access a seasonal timeline to remember when things happened. I have no doubt that if some Southern Californian dude entered a coma and then reawoke he would be unable to state the month or even the season they are in. So the total irony is that living in 75 degree paradise makes you simultaneously unappreciative of the good weather and completely unable to cope with temperatures outside the California spread.There was some lightening out here the other week and people were declaring the end of the world. If it rains for two days all the news reports turn into "Flood Watch 2006". There is even a dry wind that shows up here every fall named the Santa Ana winds that throws the South Bay into a fit. Dry skin lotions sell out of the stores and people barricade themselves inside with humidifiers.The worst part of it for me is I've turned into one of them. I'm scared to re-enter the real world of seasons. What if my finely tanned, climatized, moisturized body can't survive?

Resurrection

(The artwork above is courtesy of my brother in law, he has mad paint skillz. It was inspired by the AVP Manhattan Beach Open this weekend)

Okay... I am back. I must admit I feel embarassed at my inability to keep this blog going. It's like my journal where 80% of its entries are apologies for having not written in it for the previous six months. "8/10/06 Dear journal: I can't believe I haven't written in here for 5 years. I will never do that again! Well since my last entry I dated a girl, got married, graduated college, had twins, bought a house, sold it, bought another one, got fired, got hired, had another kid and I think that is about it. Talk to you tommorow..." then after this entry the cycle would just start all over again with another 3-5 year gap. Anyway time will tell if this is one of those same things... Stay Tuned

Metabolism

Each one of us have a secret enemy…it’s called a metabolism. We can’t see it or touch it yet it stays with us for our whole lives and for many is the source of great stress and worry for one simple reason, a poor one makes you fat! I personally have been at war since I was ten years old. The attack was swift and subtle and resulted in my little pinkish belly making it’s first appearance hanging over my bugle boy jeans. The care free eating days of years 1-9 were over. I was getting fat and that realization altered my life forever. I had two choices, continue my current consumption of kid goodies and accept my fate as the fat kid or alter my eating and begin exercising. Now if this sounds like pretty heavy stuff for a ten year old that’s because it is.
The definitive nightmare of boys in my situation was any variable that required the removal of your shirt in social settings. I mean I would have preferred almost any alternative including slow death. Decisions in my teenage life were dictated by potential shirt removal. Key words like, “pool party”, “hot tub”, and “bring a swimsuit” were avoidance alarms inside my head.
One of these settings which plagued my teenage years occurred when some idiot uttered three horrible three words, “shirts or skins!” This declaration at the beginning of a pickup basketball game was used to distinguish teams and it struck instant fear and panic inside me. Once it was said, everyone playing basically had a 50/50 chance of playing shirtless. Fight or flight response had me working out any variable to prevent my nakedness. I did everything possible to increase shirt wearing my odds. The sure bet, disappear, fake sick, basically leave. The problem is you couldn’t play basketball at all and that was almost worse than having your shirt off. I usually opted for the riskier option where I used psychological tactics to get me on the shirts team. I mean whatever it took, lie, manipulate whatever. “Hey, weren’t you on the skins team?” “No, I have no idea what you are talking about.” In the pre game warm-ups I would avoid being on the team with the buff guys. Because if the “shirts or skins” announcement was made, they, looking for every opportunity to display their physiques, would immediately volunteer for skin and you’d be screwed. In really desperate times I even thought about buying 10 colored jerseys for the players so I could eliminate the shirt or skin need. After serious consideration I realized I would look even dumber carrying a box of jerseys around to pick up games. Despite all these efforts I did every once in a while I end up a skin. They were horrible experiences and to this day I can remember every game I played shirtless. (to be continued)

B.L.O.G.

This morning while on a guilt ridden post-holiday eating run, (I have to think about something right?) the word "blog" just kept reverberating in my mind. I mean where did it come from? Our precious world wide web seems to have the ability to turn meaningless words into everyday verbs, nouns, and adjectives overnight. So below is the beginning of my new web created word dictionary...

blog
noun, verb, adjective
Definition: an online diary; a personal chronological log of thoughts published on a Web page; also called Weblog, Web log
Sentence: Rather than do something productive Treidi was a mother-blogger all day.
Etymology: shortened form of Weblog
Usage: blog, blogged, blogging v, blogger n

ebay
noun
Definition: to sell items online at auction, typically at ebay.com
Sentence: I ebayed my underwear last week so I'll have to go commando today.
Etymology: trademark ebay
Usage: ebay, ebayed, ebayer, ebaying

Google
verb, noun, adjective
Definition: to search for information about a specific person through the Google search engine
Sentence: Suzy googled her new boyfriend because if he didn't show on the first 3 pages she would dump him.
Etymology: trademark Google
Usage: googling googler

Even though the sources say that the word blog comes from the origins of web log I am convinced that it is an acronym for any of the following depending on the individual blog. See the following examples....

Buff Lawyer's Organized Grammar (see http://theworldaccordingtomarc.blogspot.com/)

Big Liar's Obvious Garbage (see currently viewed blog site)

Black Liberal's Opportunistic Greed (see http://jessejackson.blogspot.com)

Bastard's Litigious Opulant Gravy (okay I am not sure what blog site this is but I am sure they are lame)

I'll leave it to the rest of cyberspace to create some more...

Trophy

I was helping sort through the garage the other day and came across some old sports trophies. The last time I had seen them, they were glorious shining manifestations of my athletic prowess. "Expos 1990 most improved" was my favorite...that year I rode the pine like a champ, played a mean left field, and improved my batting average from .095 to a whopping .260 in the 12 year old league. But here in 2005 they looked completely pathetic. With the wanna-be gold plastic figurine screwed into the faux marble base, I wondered how I ever valued these enough to place them on my dresser with weekly dusting. So I began to question if all my accomplishments and trophies etc. had an expiration date where they would just look silly years later? Immediately I wondered about high school and college diplomas, triathlon trophies, and ribbons. That's when I realized that the greatest trophy I have is not about sports or scholastics...its about one word, SEX. Thats right folks, take a look below at my official sex trophy. Not only will this trophy not loose value over time he will actually get cooler and making him was alot funner than a day at the ball park! In ten years I won't want to chuck him in the garbage I'll want to play catch and coach his tee ball league. So all of you looking for real acheivement, chuck the lame plastic figurines and make a living breathing SEX TROPHY. I think mine is the coolest.

This is just an introduction to the King, aka Mr. Adventure as he is known around these parts...as a current stay at home dad I am afforded the chance to hang with this little guy all day long. He enjoys daily naked time, hot tubs, cold play (especially the song "fix you"), newfound walking skills, and a recent infatuation with snowmen.

Introduction

Welcome to the blog universe for Treidi Inc. Many sharp and witty musings to come....