Bagels: A Love Story

What

In God's Name

Is

THIS???

I'll tell you what it is. It's the lady at the New System bakery two blocks from my house not giving a shit. That's what it is. My reaction upon opening the tin foil was, "WhaaaaaaAAAAAAAAATT?" -- each "a" ascending by an octave and the "t" breathily puffed out with disbelief.

Is this how you treat a bagel? Non-toasted with a block slab of cold cream cheese in the center? Sacrilege, I say!

As for New System bakery - I'm not going to make some libelous statement against them over this offense. Truth be told, they make a cheap breakfast sandwich that blows my mind and incites enough pleasure within me to last for days...so I'll forgive them.

However, it is insane how many people abuse the bagel. I'm not saying that everyone needs to lovingly caress a finely toasted bagel with the smoothest room-temperature cream cheese. Though, if it's between that and the actions taken in the picture above - please use the former. Perhaps I am too sensitive about this issue. The bagel is, after all, my preferred daily breakfast. It combines two foods of the gods: bread and cheese. The combinations are endless. It's portable. It's warm. It's filling. I needn't go on.

Not everyone agrees with me on this, however. The ladies at the Dunkin Donuts in Rosedale, for instance, couldn't give a proverbial fig about my bagel. They've burned it, not toasted it, given me the wrong kind, etc. Worst of all, they continue to give me a little cup of cream cheese and a plastic knife so that I have to administer the topping myself. This is wrong to me on two accounts:
1) By making me spread the cream cheese onto the bagel myself, these ladies have negated the bagel's number one asset - its portability.
2) Remember when you were little and your mom poured your cereal or made you a peanut butter and jelly sandwich? Then you got a little older and you could do these things yourself, but they never ended up tasting quite like Mom's concoctions? Maybe Mom's estimated ratio was better or something, but there was this je ne sais pas that was (and always will be) missing from yours? That's how I feel when the ladies hand me my separate cream cheese. The fact that I've spent $3 and change on a bagel should GUARANTEE that I open it up to find already applied cream cheese.

I just thank the sweet Lord that the above did not happen with an onion bagel. The onion bagel is too sacred to mess with. If that had happened, I would've shoved that block of dairy up a place a block of dairy should never be shoved.

Invasion of the Bee Girls

Watched "Invasion of the Bee Girls" today while I was sick. I forgot how much I love 1970's sci-fi trash. A short inventory of weird and wonderful things about the movie:
Sexy Librarian - check
Sexy Librarian who tells a federal agent, "We balled*, and balled, and balled...and then it happened." - check
Federal Agent, answering a very serious and official phone call with "Yello?" - check
A rape scene, which does nothing for the plot, other than showcase the protagonist's fighting moves - check
Boobs - check
A woman whose one boob is noticeably higher and smaller than its twin - check
Completely black eyes (a la "Stepford Wives") - check
Random sex scenes or nudity by people who have nothing whatsoever to do with the rest of the storyline - check. And check. And check again.

Thank you, "Invasion of the Bee Girls" for your funkadelic soundtrack, your polyblend costumes, your lipgloss, your wood-paneled walls, and your public domain status - which made you available for me to view on my cable provider's Free Movie channel.
My immune system just got a little stronger.

*"Balled" or "balling" was used plenty of times in the dialogue to refer to sex. Is this shit my parents said in the 1970's? Can you dig it? Because I sure as hell cannot.
I cannot dig it.

Me Heat You Long Time

Got a new space heater at work. Looks like this:

Those aren't my legs. Nor is that my faux oriental rug or my desk that looks like it doesn't exist in any realm other than a Sims furniture catalog.

But it is frickin' cold in this office, so I'm pleased to get this heat machine. I'm also a fan of the design. I like things that were made by someone in the 1970's who thought, "This looks so space-agey!"

The best thing about my space heater is what came with it. Inside the box were some velcro strips (to questionably mount somewhere - velcro doesn't seem like it'd hold this thing up) and some disinfectant wipes labeled "Alcohol Prep." The wipes are covered with Chinese symbols and the brand name is OYEAH.

Oh, yeeeeeaaaaaahhhhh. Reminds me of this oldie but goodie.

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