Thursday, September 29, 2011

I Like My In-Laws, and I Don't Quite Know Why

         As of yesterday, my in-laws are here to visit. They gave us 48 hours notice, in which they said "we're driving out, we'll arrive at 1 in the morning, and we'll be staying at your place for a few days." None of this was a question; we were simply being informed of what was going to happen.
        And oddly enough... I don't mind.
        If you've ever watched a stereotypical, cliched family sitcom (think Everybody Loves Raymond), you know that the average person is supposed to hate their in-laws. These people are supposed to be annoying, pushy, and always asking about grandchildren. But mine, well, they're more than tolerable.
         For starters, my mother-in-law is cool. As in, probably cooler than I am. I wish I was making this up.


        She works at the Mandalay Bay in Las Vegas, in the VIP suites. Hell, let's just compare her average week against my average week.














        Yes, she's really friends with Manny Pacquaio, and yes, she gave us his autographed picture because she just truly doesn't give a shit about boxing.


             Also, it is indeed true that she once asked Will.I.Am to play her a song on his guitar... a song that wasn't even his. He sang it anyway, and now apparently they're friends.
             I don't fucking believe it either.

             So let's move on to my father-in-law. He's very... uncool. He loves nerdy gadgets, he's very frugal, and he looks exactly like Kim Jong Il (including the glasses, squarish hair, and squinty eyes).


         We bonded over technology, and surprisingly, he knows a lot more about it than your average 50-something. He's very friendly, and quite nice to us, but he's also very stubborn. Especially when it comes to cars, which he knows very little about. And I, on the other hand, live and breathe cars (I have 2 Fords and an Audi, all of which I like to make faster and all of which I work on myself). I also have no particular allegiance to auto brands, and don't believe that any one brand is superior to another.
         However, tell that to my father-in-law. The following is a very real (and very awkward) conversation we had a while back.

















In case you're wondering, that's the mother of all face palms.

And oddly enough, as long as you don't talk to him about cars, my father-in-law is a great guy and a lot of fun to talk to. So how about you guys? Do you like your in-laws/prospective in-laws (if you're just dating)?

Stay classy, friends,
Bryan

Mood: Still pretty bummed that the closest I've come to a real star is Al Roker's autographed picture, which yes, as I've shown in previous posts, is framed and sitting on my desk.
Beer: Fat Tire
Music: Sondre Lerche

Monday, September 26, 2011

Man Vs. Food Network

I don't watch much TV. Most reality shows make me feel like the engines have exploded on the airplane that is humanity, and when this illiterate hunk of bolts comes crashing down in a ball of fire in the vast ocean of dumbfuckery, the only hope for our future will rest in a few fart-filled seat cushions. Like, yeah, totally.

That said, I'm actually really glad to have cable again for the first time in five years. And the biggest reason is...The Food Network, because I love seeing all the delicious looking food porn. Sure, it makes my Ramen noodle casserole like a steaming pile of crap, but that's okay. Because, by following along with the pros, it's inspired me to take a stab at a few new recipes. However, since I'm an amateur cook, sometimes I have to improvise on the ingredients. See the following...

















I never claimed to be a professional, but dammit am I crafty when it comes to substituting ingredients. Now, if you'll excuse me, it's time to eat. And then lance a few boils.

Cheers,

-brandon

Beer: Prince Albert (Moonshine Brewery)
Music: Dirty Projectors

Thursday, September 22, 2011

I Live 200 Feet Away From a Registered Sex Offender

           So over the weekend the wife and I went to have some beers with the new neighbors (not to be confused with the asshole neighbors, which you can learn more about under the menu 'Meet the Neighbors!' on the righthand side of this post, if you're not familiar/new here).
           Anyway, the neighbor woman mentioned that she had gone on the Internet and done a search of our surrounding area to see if any sex offenders popped up, and that sure enough, she found one about a mile away, in the far back of our housing division. What's more, his report said he wasn't just a guy who peed in the wrong playground sandbox, no, he was a convicted rapist, and it freaked her out a little.
           So when I came home, I went to one of those sex offender search sites to investigate for myself, and what I found was pretty interesting...
            Because, you see, sites like mapquest can never find our house correctly, and it messes up the layout of our entire neighborhood. So I had to plug the rapist's address directly into Google maps, and I found out that he lives a BIT closer than a mile away...








          So I went to Mr. Convicted Rapist's house looking for answers.

























Yeah, we've got some real oddballs in this neighborhood...

Do you live near a sex offender? Does it make you worried?

Stay classy, friends,
Bryan

Mood: Justified
Beer: Fat Tire
Music: The screams of a ball-less pedophile is about all I can hear in my ringing ears
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