tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-48066050744035609412024-02-19T02:00:02.714-08:00RymericaRyanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06228671523907411726noreply@blogger.comBlogger7125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4806605074403560941.post-15223997649232396252010-03-18T21:00:00.000-07:002010-03-18T21:21:29.008-07:00A basketball game was also played.<div>So Kayla and I got to use some Blazer tickets that include a food free-for-all. I decided to start with a little dinner delight.</div><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj40sYVEdMNO49wVf4-neZSXEG_y6SWC-GdfLaH7n1lAQCqVfYDl-rOz5DzYg-7p9lH9xrfHY90gW08AhlGoJEiZlwJAbXLuC-dn29MCVJeJMDndPHj8XnWbnl0RtHC-zvEXhR4VvLS6Q/s1600-h/DSCN4878.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj40sYVEdMNO49wVf4-neZSXEG_y6SWC-GdfLaH7n1lAQCqVfYDl-rOz5DzYg-7p9lH9xrfHY90gW08AhlGoJEiZlwJAbXLuC-dn29MCVJeJMDndPHj8XnWbnl0RtHC-zvEXhR4VvLS6Q/s320/DSCN4878.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5450191201181791858" style="text-align: center; float: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>But seriously, the seats are great. They're at the end of the aisle so you don't have to trip over people when you get up for more food. A little pizza maybe?</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMiHS9vDk4APmridF84N2CGrYo8DxI9_j9H-uEJylmdqG42yE23N-apRB_9Wawv2N_4TUlUH4Jnc7eODZ-K5skOpQRDn8kepGU_ZuIbtWXpC5tQYFc2kOsHDPMLgpTgg23TvYtsu6v6Q/s1600-h/DSCN4879.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMiHS9vDk4APmridF84N2CGrYo8DxI9_j9H-uEJylmdqG42yE23N-apRB_9Wawv2N_4TUlUH4Jnc7eODZ-K5skOpQRDn8kepGU_ZuIbtWXpC5tQYFc2kOsHDPMLgpTgg23TvYtsu6v6Q/s320/DSCN4879.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5450192209477663650" /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;"><br /></span></a><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMiHS9vDk4APmridF84N2CGrYo8DxI9_j9H-uEJylmdqG42yE23N-apRB_9Wawv2N_4TUlUH4Jnc7eODZ-K5skOpQRDn8kepGU_ZuIbtWXpC5tQYFc2kOsHDPMLgpTgg23TvYtsu6v6Q/s1600-h/DSCN4879.JPG"><br /></a></span><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj40sYVEdMNO49wVf4-neZSXEG_y6SWC-GdfLaH7n1lAQCqVfYDl-rOz5DzYg-7p9lH9xrfHY90gW08AhlGoJEiZlwJAbXLuC-dn29MCVJeJMDndPHj8XnWbnl0RtHC-zvEXhR4VvLS6Q/s1600-h/DSCN4878.JPG"><br /></a></div><br /><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">It was a great game. All four quarters. But they stop serving food at the beginning of the fourth quarter, so you really have to pay attention, but they have this big clock that does some kind of countdown to let you know you don't have much time, so you'd better top 'er off for the night, otherwise you might perish. "Nachos, please." "Cheese?" "DUH! Topped with a pretzel. DUR!"</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZYyGpUmOgHaGj7vyHWajU-KXX8AM-zryre2-uC8g4Kj2k8iSFdcQd-gxLPZIS5kIirRU43jbeVNNt7HjpmqJ4xB2ORpTk5GH4pFSlQjHarzJZwiaHbiP6nCs8I_JwUKW23PfCPC8zOg/s1600-h/DSCN4880.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZYyGpUmOgHaGj7vyHWajU-KXX8AM-zryre2-uC8g4Kj2k8iSFdcQd-gxLPZIS5kIirRU43jbeVNNt7HjpmqJ4xB2ORpTk5GH4pFSlQjHarzJZwiaHbiP6nCs8I_JwUKW23PfCPC8zOg/s320/DSCN4880.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5450194359053916082" style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div></div>Ryanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06228671523907411726noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4806605074403560941.post-33149913004752211902010-03-12T23:52:00.000-08:002010-03-13T01:05:56.401-08:00The Origins of Rymerica, or, The Essence of ManOnce, I was a child. I thought like a child. I acted like a child. I held the parmesan cheese container to my lips and drank its granular goodness. I did not like barbecue sauce. I might not have liked any sauce. But bbq sauce tasted too sharp for my young tongue. Like licking the business end of a knife made of wasabi. I wonder if all bbq sauces were just brown and vinegar, or if those were the only kind we purchased.<div><br /></div><div>Furr's, the Winco of the southwest but with fresh tortillas, was somewhere between Bethel and Ai. It was there I met Bull's-Eye. The good people at Kraft mixed smoke, magic, delicious taste, and high fructose corn syrup to make a miracle sauce. And it was there, like Abram and Lot, all other bbq sauces and I went our separate ways. They actually gave out samples of it. I think they knew no one would buy bbq sauce otherwise. The color was perfect, the texture was perfect, the TASTE was perfect. It has inspired many poems and works of art. Not the least of which follows here:</div><div><br /></div><div>Bull's-Eye in the North</div><div>Bull's-Eye in the South</div><div>Doesn't matter where</div><div>Just pour it in my mouth</div><div><br /></div><div>Bull's-Eye in the morning</div><div>Bull's-Eye noon and night</div><div>When everything go wrong</div><div>Bull's-Eye makes it right</div><div><br /></div><div>Bull's-Eye tastes so good</div><div>Bull's-Eye tastes so great</div><div>And now I'm addicted to all varieties of sauces.</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://brands.kraftfoods.com/bullseyebbq/images/nav_barbullicon.jpg" alt="BULL'S EYE BARBECUE SAUCE" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">If it wasn't for Bull's-Eye, I wouldn't be the man I am today.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Thank you.</div>Ryanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06228671523907411726noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4806605074403560941.post-14190497608568261822010-01-09T14:15:00.000-08:002010-01-10T21:11:54.656-08:00The Legend of St. Zesty Fazole's Day<div style="text-align: center;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>St. Zesty <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Fazole</span></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>---</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>The Patron Saint of Union Members</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">Salem’s garment district in the late 1800’s was a sooty place. The industrial revolution brought coal powered button machines and coal powered trouser <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">pleaters</span> and they gave everyone coal fever. But not in a good way, like in Northern Africa in the early 1900’s, when the price of coal went through the roof and people moved their families in search of the black gold. Coal fever in a bad way like a disease. Many people died.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Zeshua</span> Farina had worked hard and made his way to shift manager in a hook-and-eye factory by the age of nine-and-a-half. He wore a bowling hat on his head, to look taller, and a sour look on his face. The soot <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">didn</span>’t help his attitude any, and he soon died.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">Gomez Farina, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Zeshua</span>’s little brother, missed the motherland. There was no coal there, so no soot. It <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">hadn</span>’t been invented there yet. He heard people on the street talk about the soot and complain. But they never left. Gomez knew that if they actually wanted to live somewhere with no soot, they could. But they never did anything. Planes <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">hadn</span>’t been invented yet, so I guess you and I can’t blame them.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">People with last names like Marx, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Vronsky</span>, and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Depp</span> met deep underground, poured all their hatred and malice into a cauldron, poured it into a cupcake pan, and out came the most evil, smelly thing imaginable. Labor unions. When it was little it was cute. The workers got things like dental insurance, profit sharing, a 401(k) match. That was fine but then when it was a teenager it told the bourgeoisie that anytime it felt like not working it would put down its tools, stop cuffing pants, and stop blousing blouses (which was done by hand, since the coal powered <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">blouser</span> was not invented yet), and go on strike.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">A popular <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">past time</span>, especially amongst the labor union folk, was drinking Mike's Hard Lemonade on breaks. Now, no one drank Mike's Hard Lemonade because they liked it, mind you, or even for the image it gave them. Maybe it was despite the image it gave them. But they drank it because <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">alcohol</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">hadn</span>’t been invented yet, and the water was sooty, and the milk was sooty, so you can’t blame them. But capitalist business owners were tired of the lemon subsidies being handed out by the government, so they banned it in their workplaces. Every union in the garment district went on strike. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">A perfect storm was brewing. Gomez had learned much from his older brother, and was just as determined, and only a little less sour. He had an idea. He created a small plastic bag using the recently invented coal powered plastic bag machine. He attached it to suspenders, and stuck a long flexible straw to it. He showed the workers how to fill it with Mike's, any flavor they liked, and hide it under their clothes. Now they could drink Mike's all day and no one would know. Gomez got greedy and charged <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">exorbitant</span> prices for his Mike's smuggling device. His greed got him in the end when he died of coal poisoning.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">Later a young Teddy Roosevelt set up a pasta stand in the garment <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">district</span>, and all the workers loved it. His most popular dish was the zesty <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21">fazole</span>. None of the workers were religious, but they would occasionally tell their capitalist bosses that they <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22">weren</span>’t going to make it into work that day on account of observing St. Zesty <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23">Fazole</span>’s day. Then they would go to little Teddy’s pasta stand and eat zesty <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24">fazole</span> and drink Mike's Hard Lemonade all day. Teddy Roosevelt soon started overcharging for his pasta, became president, and left. But by then Salem’s garment district had turned into a ghost town. Portland was soon invented, and now we have to go there if we want cool clothes</span>. </div></b></div>Ryanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06228671523907411726noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4806605074403560941.post-14859229498546302982009-11-24T14:11:00.001-08:002009-11-24T14:18:42.079-08:00I consider this to be an accomplishment<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0CX4hX87QiSq7U8eGr0T510LilvYXLMg4sJNWmRFHpi98TCNjh_zcJF3O-nH_eGTNndmvx-Le_cbSuyxDlDGD3hANk1XTjSjMy4tFdrAjzZHyPkIynL6VGEvUII_qK_Sz1h-LbMNhhw/s1600/Exam2.JPG"><img style="text-align: left;float: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; cursor: pointer; " src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0CX4hX87QiSq7U8eGr0T510LilvYXLMg4sJNWmRFHpi98TCNjh_zcJF3O-nH_eGTNndmvx-Le_cbSuyxDlDGD3hANk1XTjSjMy4tFdrAjzZHyPkIynL6VGEvUII_qK_Sz1h-LbMNhhw/s1600/Exam2.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407796633721909682" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0iT3XFoE_rc2m6PQygnpiHGmihscKB2vXFPmh_ohOXt0p6rAQph28JhpFg4CiBFOgAD5tYkKhY4BMCnsO93z4SYFSIvprxQKULwQlTGNJgSSYdfHBaMLZKT4WiW01xqrEAduShrgGDA/s1600/Exam1.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 20px 20px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0iT3XFoE_rc2m6PQygnpiHGmihscKB2vXFPmh_ohOXt0p6rAQph28JhpFg4CiBFOgAD5tYkKhY4BMCnsO93z4SYFSIvprxQKULwQlTGNJgSSYdfHBaMLZKT4WiW01xqrEAduShrgGDA/s1600/Exam1.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407796626262840402" /></a>Ryanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06228671523907411726noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4806605074403560941.post-9158063701722329052009-10-07T21:13:00.000-07:002009-10-07T21:27:28.163-07:00ET just used Elliot to get home, he didn't actually care about him.<img src="http://blogs.amctv.com/scifi-scanner/ET_560x330_M4DETTT_EC001_H.jpg" /><div><br /></div><div><div>This one time I told someone that I had never really seen the movie Top Gun and he almost punched me in the face, so something Kayla has been doing for me to make me less offensive to people is helping me get caught up on all the movies that I was never allowed to watch because my family was in a cult when I was a kid. We rented ET tonight, against my better judgment since I'm afraid of aliens.</div><div><br /></div><div>8:51 Put ET in DVD player.<br /></div><div>8:52 Smelled something burning, went outside, stepped on a slug with my bare right foot.</div><div>8:54 Got scolded by Kayla for coming the house with slimy feet. I'm crying. </div><div>9:10 Rednecks in big trucks scare ET. He gets left behind like the heathens in a Kirk Cameron movie.</div><div>9:13 Kids smoking weed and playing Dungeons and Dragons or something</div><div>9:20 Paused to get chocolate</div><div>9:24 Kiss wife’s forehead</div><div>9:27 Elliot’s on a lawn chair, ET is approaching and making gross noises. I’m going to have nightmares.</div><div>9:33 I think ET was left behind on purpose because he was the guy always snapping the other guys with a towel in the locker room, and he still says "WASSSSSSAAAAAAPPPP!!???"</div><div>9:40 Elliot: “I’m gonna throw up on the phone if you don’t let me go.” Haha.</div><div>9:55 ET’s drunk. In the morning.</div><div>10:32 ET is sick and anxious to get home. Probably because his out-of-network coverage is BRUTAL.</div><div>10:48 ET is dead. He almost took Elliot with him due to the mind meld he performed remotely while drinking Coors. I'm crying.</div><div>11:02 Some unruly teens just outwitted a special government task force and the local police. I always love it when that happens.</div><div>11:09 That spaceship is so fake.</div><div>11:10 I'm crying. </div><div><br /></div></div>Ryanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06228671523907411726noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4806605074403560941.post-76725124736346584542009-09-24T15:31:00.000-07:002009-09-24T15:33:05.492-07:00Everyone should go to a Mexican restaurant on their b-day.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQxSizIv6ZgtBtRyNXUTixNGpkxbo4qhElw0gO8rad1EXtrxhSb4fpIlN-RDWAFLWZ0eZabEdONtg2xoCSEm0J1nRftDFIg_nqe13GX9inFPJfzME5w428PK-TJF1rOt1YTgrTprrRQQ/s1600-h/Kayla+Sombrero.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 206px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQxSizIv6ZgtBtRyNXUTixNGpkxbo4qhElw0gO8rad1EXtrxhSb4fpIlN-RDWAFLWZ0eZabEdONtg2xoCSEm0J1nRftDFIg_nqe13GX9inFPJfzME5w428PK-TJF1rOt1YTgrTprrRQQ/s320/Kayla+Sombrero.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385165431616548834" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;"><br /></span></span></div>Ava does not know what to think.Ryanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06228671523907411726noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4806605074403560941.post-77308506520862381062009-09-22T18:16:00.000-07:002009-09-24T15:50:08.586-07:00It's true.<div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmTacXYFgs2uAgOf_7tPgoFOnM41cQ8WxX6I22J7406WkfFL6qgd5BnFmjPyMn52xn9iB2_66skiWJsotNIx_gdg5aZvDskUiq4ucdbYCemxugNVyEBfDzrIAugwhkZqg9FzqEiG_aGw/s1600-h/DSCN2877.JPG"><img style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; " src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmTacXYFgs2uAgOf_7tPgoFOnM41cQ8WxX6I22J7406WkfFL6qgd5BnFmjPyMn52xn9iB2_66skiWJsotNIx_gdg5aZvDskUiq4ucdbYCemxugNVyEBfDzrIAugwhkZqg9FzqEiG_aGw/s800/DSCN2877.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384469824750344562" /></a>Ryanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06228671523907411726noreply@blogger.com2