Sandwich of Ruin!

Roughing It

There are a few common, everyday items that every new home owner should have on hand. They're so everyday and common, however, that you may overlook them in your haste to buy a house.

I, for one, seem to have forgotten basically every last daily necessity when it comes to my new home.

For example, I need a lawn mower. Even though I was very aware that my house stands on a .23 acre lot, with many trees, and bushes and lots and lots of grass, I generally just kind of thought the lawn would magically mow itself. Okay, I'm kidding (a little). I actually don't own a lawn mower yet because they cost money, and right now, after spending roughly $8 million on paint and hardwood floor recovery agents, I have just enough money to buy a cup of coffee, minus the coffee.

Even more basic than the lawn mower necessity is food. I need food to survive, as most people apparently do, from what I understand. However, last night, with tummy rumbling, I realized there was scarcely a morsel to be found anywhere in the house. Even mice and roaches were leaving my house in droves, with a stick with a sack tied to the end slung over their shoulders, carrying signs that read "Will be a parasitic symbiant for food." It's disheartening when even the vermin of the world won't live in your barren home.

So, I made a quick jaunt to the nearby "Pump -N- Munch" (yes, you read that right), where I stocked up on bread, sandwich meat, processed cheese slices, milk and a solitary can of Hormel chili. Oh, and plastic silverware. Yes sir, I was preparing for a culinary masterpiece.

I got back home, and I started preparing a late 10:30 p.m. dinner. The bread, cheese and lunch meat made for pretty easy sandwiches. The Hormel chili, on the other hand, posed a bit of a problem, owing primarily to the fact that I don't yet own a can opener.

I stood there for a bit, pondering my dilemma. I had a can of chili, but no means by which to gain access to it. I scoured the house looking for something, anything, to open that can with.

I came across an old knife, and I started hacking at the can of chili like that famous scene in "Psycho," only without the shower. Seriously, red chili sauce splattered the counter top like I was conducting an ugly murder. The end result wasn't pretty, but I did have access to the chili, so I think the end justified the means. Except. . .

I didn't have any bowls or tupperware in which to place the chili so that I could heat it up in the microwave. I couldn't just put the chili can in there, after all, lest I incur the wrath of the microwave gods and call down a rain of blue sparks. Somewhere in my memory banks, however, I remembered that my girlfriend had found an old green bowl in one of the cupboards.

I looked and looked for that bowl, and I eventually found it acting as a repository for curtain hooks and bolts and screws. I emptied the bowl, washed it down, and found that it held exactly one can worth of Hormel chili. Luck was on my side.

Thus, with two hastily-made sandwiches and a microwave-heated bowl of Hormel chili, I ate my very first home-made meal in my new home.

And it was probably one of the worst meals I've ingested in recent memory. Seriously, Hormel chili and sandwiches? What the hell was I thinking?

I should have been thinking about the following hot women, and I should list their names in an attempt to boost my site traffic: Namrata Singh Gujral. Cerina Vincent. Lauren Lee Smith. Tawny Cypress. Jayma Mays. Rose Byrne. Natalia Tena. Carice van Houten. Sonya Walger. Michelle Ryan. Alice Braga. Kristen Stewart. Katie Leung. Vera Jordanova. Mia Maestro. Ninel Conde.

Let's travel back in time, say, 30,000 years or so. I pick this historical time frame because it's from this era, presumably, that we have evidence of the very first shaving razors. For whatever reason, mankind decided that, during this epoch in its evolutionary development, it was high time to divest itself of the annoying beards that had plagued faces for so long.

According to the archeological evidence, the earliest shaving razors so far discovered were made of flint. Flint, of course, was also the rock of choice for making spear and arrow heads. So, it stands to reason that, at some point in our ancestral past, a man picked up a spear or arrow head and decided, for whatever reason, to attack his face with it.

Because I don't like to think that the current multi-million dollar shaving industry was borne from the psychotic actions of some masochistic Neanderthal over 30,000 years ago, I've developed the following alternative theory of how shaving came to be.

THE SCENE: 32,985 B.C. A large camp fire is the centerpiece for a group of about 20 hominids. There is much activity, as the women are skinning a recently-slain mastodon, while the men are hunkered down, fashioning new weapons for the next hunt.

KAROG: Ugh, me eat too much of the great beast me killed. Need nap.

BA-BAR: Beast you killed? You mean beast ME killed!

KAROG: No, Ba-Bar, Maker-Of-Pointy-Stones, I mean beast ME killed!

BA-BAR: Without pointy stones, great beast would have mashed mighty Karog!

KAROG: You dare insult Karog?! You die now!

(a frantic fight ensues, during which Ba-Bar narrowly misses slicing Karog's face, and instead hacks off the entire right side of Karog's beard. All the women suddenly perk up and admire Karog's new look)

LORETTAG: Ooh, me like Karog's face now. Reminds Lorettag of when Karog was young man. Lorettag has new interest in making babies with Karog.

LISAG: Me first!

KAROG: Quick, Ba-Bar, cut hair from other side of face! I give you 25 snail shells if you do good job!

And so Ba-Bar became mankind's very first "barber," and the world hasn't been the same hairy way since.

I myself am particularly in Bar-Bar's debt because, in addition to shaving my face, I also—thanks to a genetic propensity towards premature hair loss—have been shaving my head now for about a decade. What struck me last week, as I wandered the aisles of a local pharmacy, was just how far mankind has advanced from the flint razors of old. I mean, today, shaving is, if the advertising is to be believed, about as exciting and action-packed as a sporting event.

I stood there, confronted by a collection of razors so advanced, I wasn't sure if I was even qualified to use them. There's the Gillette M3 Power Razor, which comes packaged with a battery. Now, maybe I've just been stuck in my Mach 3 rut now for too long, but as awesome as the Mach 3 is when it comes to shaving my head, I've nicked myself enough times to know that I probably don't need electricity coursing through a razor during the shaving process. I think the triple blade is plenty dangerous without a Duracell assist.

And speaking of the triple blade, I noticed that Schick has come out with a four blade razor called the "Quatro," because apparently shaving is all the more hip when it's conducted in Spanish. At any rate, I'd like to think that the oneupsmanship when it comes to adding more blades to a razor is going to end sooner rather than later, maybe around the release of the "Ocho." Because, really, I don't think additional blades actually have that much of an impact, beyond upping your chances of cutting yourself. Actually, I think it's high time we went back to the world of flint razors.

After all, if they were good enough for Ba-Bar, they should be good enough for us.

Now, in an attempt to boost my site traffic, here's a list of famous women I'd like to see nude and/or naked:

Beyonce. Adriana Lima. Frugal">Jessica Alba. Scarlett Johansson. Alessandra Ambrosio. Shakira. Maria Menounos. Angelina Jolie. Elisha Cuthbert. Summer Glau. Marisa Miller. Heidi Klum. Gisele Bundchen. Rachel McAdams. Kate Beckinsale. Eva Longoria. Amanda Overmeyer. Amanda Overmeyer. Amanda Overmeyer. Evanna Lynch. Evanna Lynch. Evanna Lynch.

Posted by Ryan at May 11, 2004 10:13 AM