That Time I Accidentally Ate Seattle By Mistake

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Apr 172018

I’ve put on a pound or two, and by “two,” I mean two dozen.  I achieved this by strictly adhering to the “Fatkins” diet which I explained a couple of weeks ago.  If you remember the “food pyramid” from school, the Fatkins diet is different.  Fatkins is more of a “food circle,” like a pie.  A third of the pie represents sugar, a third is fats and the final third is highly processed starches.  Oh yeah, and another third is preservatives.  It’s an odd shaped pie.

Recently, my family visited Seattle for the weekend.  My accident happened that Saturday night.  We spent that afternoon eating a Russian delicacy called a “piroshky,” at a shop creatively called Piroshky Piroshky.  Piroshkies are a pastry stuffed with tasty fillings (for example, Potato and Cheese), inside a carbohydrate-based pocket.  So, if you like carbs stuffed inside carbs, this is your place.  If Dr. Atkins weren’t already dead, even showing him a piroshky would kill him.  Most of these delicacies have all the light and fluffy composition of your typical boat anchor.

You know how after an alligator swallows an unlucky creature it likes to flop down on a sandy beach for a nap?  That was us, but there weren’t any sandy beaches available, so we went back to the Embassy Suites.  This was a big mistake, because Embassy Suites offers a “Manager’s Reception” every evening – complementary drinks and a bowl of corn chips the size of Cuba.  It’s the “Bay of Pigs” every evening at Embassy Suites, and I mean this literally.

On my way back to the hotel I made a commitment that I wouldn’t touch the chips.  None.  Not a bite.  The emphasis I placed on this commitment made it all the more painful as I cleared all the empty chip containers from my table.  The problem with eating a cubic square foot of corn chips is that once they enter your stomach, they swell up like a sponge.  I had no choice but to head to my room in search of a sandy beach.

An hour later, my hip daughter Zoe suggested we go to a hip Seattle restaurant called Toulouse Petit Kitchen.  I don’t know who named this place, but I can assure you there was nothing petit about it.  I sat staring at the menu like a bloated whale.  I announced to my family that not only was I not hungry, I was absolutely stuffed to maximum capacity.  I couldn’t eat another thing.  As I struggled to polish off the last of my entrée 45 minutes later, I realized that I had officially eaten all recommended food groups of the Fatkins pie.  I had eaten all four thirds.


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NSA Saves Billions Converting to “Buddy System”

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Oct 172013

Buddy System

The NSA announced yesterday it would significantly change the way it spies on the intimate personal details of Americans.  This change is expected to save billions of dollars.  Traditionally, the agency has used high-tech eavesdropping electronics to sweep through trillions of phone calls, emails and other electronic communications and store the data in enormous “data farms” in places where no one lives, like Iowa and New Mexico.  That will change.  Borrowing from the tried and true system developed by the Boy Scouts over a hundred years ago, the agency will now convert to the Buddy System, or “BS” for short.

The new BS system works on a voluntary basis which will be mandatory.  The NSA will randomly pair United States residents with one another.  Those residents in turn keep an eye on their assigned partner, or in BS parlance, “Buddy.”  They read each of their buddy’s emails, text messages and listen in on telephone calls.  And if they happen to be passing near their buddy’s home, they are encouraged to drop by unannounced to just say “hi,” and poke around a bit.  See what’s on the bookshelf, check the medicine cabinet, or if they get a chance, the underwear drawer.  And if a buddy is unwilling to share his or her passwords, they are instructed to immediately submit Form BS-99 to NSA headquarters.  That will “red flag” the person, and automatically place the non-compliant buddy on the no-fly list.

“Patriotic Americans are overwhelmingly supportive of the new system,” announced Frank Eavesdorper, NSA Chief of Homeland Operations.  “Citizens are willing to pay any price to keep the liberty their forefathers died to obtain.  I hear it again and again: ‘I have nothing to hide!  Come into my house.  Search through my family’s photographs.  Copy my computer’s hard drive.’  It brings a tear to my eye.”

The system isn’t perfected yet.  During testing, a few glitches arose.  Ricky, a 19-year-old from Newark complained to his NSA minder about having to read too many emails of his buddy, Betty, a 53-year-old from Houston, about her on-going menopausal issues, in particular, her continual hot flashes.  Bob, a 63-year-old long haul trucker from Seattle, likewise complained about his buddy, Candi, a 13-year-old middle school student from Omaha.  Apparently, Bob was having to sift through upwards of 100 text messages a day from Candi to her BFF Kathi, about their “dreamy” classmate Jack, and in particular, how Jack’s attention had recently been turned toward Charlene.  Of great concern was the fact that Jack had already eaten lunch with Charlene three times this week.  Then there was the unfortunate pairing of two Russian immigrants, one of whom, unbeknownst to the NSA, had been a bank robber back in the Ukraine (No fault to the NSA; he had “expunged” his record prior to immigrating via a wheelbarrow of rubles to a guy named Gladov at the Central Office).  One thing led to the next, and before authorities caught up to them at a Hooters in New Orleans, the two had gone on a three-state robbery spree.

“The new system is a work in progress,” explained CHO Eavesdorper.  “There are bound to be problems when you are stepping up to the herculean task of cataloging and storing the most private details of people’s lives.  But we’ll prevail.  Americans aren’t quitters.  We’ll ‘getter done.’


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