A True Story

Today there was a man at the bar who had a beer and ate a meal. Afterwards, he proceeded to pull out a book of Beetle Bailey comic strips and read them for a while.

This is a thing that happened. I don't know how I would classify it.

Hope you're all well.

Spite Club

Okay, so there's this show on Spike where they test different types of historical warriors to see who would win. They test their weapons on dummies and compare how their tactics would work against each other.

I just saw Apache vs. Gladiator and now I'm watching Samurai vs. Vikings.

Now while I love warriors, fighting, and weapons this show makes me angry. For one thing the representatives of each style trash talk way too much. I get what they're trying to do and the individual weapon tests are fascinating and awesome to watch, but they're kind of missing the point.

A samurai isn't prepared to fight a gladiator because their fighting types and weapons were designed to fight whoever they had to fight. You have to consider context when you think of this shit. Just now they showed that katanas can't cut through chain mail.

Well sure, that's a given. Samurai didn't develop weapons to fight chainmail because there wasn't anyone using chain mail to fight against. Karate came about because poor Okinawan villagers had to learn to fight samurai using their hands and farming tools.

Am I the only one who sees the futility here? If vikings started raiding samurai villages not only would the samurai have developed countermeasures but so would the vikings! They would have learned how to fight each other.

Instead, what we have is a dumbass machofest where they use some awesome tests to try to outdo each other instead of focusing on the truth which is that every type of warrior has strengths and weaknesses but is still awesome in the end.

Anyway the truth is I'd win because not only am I a ninja but I'm a goddamn Spartan.

Ain't nobody wanna mess with that shit.

EDIT: Okay now they're doing Spartans vs. Ninja and I literally could not be more conflicted. Life is tough for a weaboo warrior...........

Product Review: Doritos Late Night - Tacos at Midnight

I don't get a lot of requests for things to post on my blog, but if I did, #1 to review more products on here.

So, because I love you readers, I am honoring your hypothetical request and reviewing the new Late Night Doritos.

Let me begin by showing you the commercial for them. I actually really love this commercial; the FX used are really neat and I like the colors. The song not so much but it estabishes this new subgenre of Doritos as classy and trendy.




There are two flavors of Late Night Doritos: Tacos at Midnight and Jalapeno Poppers. I will be reviewing the former.

Packaging

Packaging is the #1 determinant of what food products I buy. I am a person who is inexorably and compulsively obsessed with the aesthetic. I need things to look cool. Doritos Late Night have a very nice colored bag, and the Late Night logo style is very nice. It's simplistic, but on a chip bag that's quite fine. I would be happy to be seen walking around town with this bag.

The chips themselves look good. The darker spices make them look more exotic than your average Dorito which is in line with expectations.

Flavor

Doritos are a very divisive chip. The divide between Cooler Ranch and Nacho Cheesier has long destroyed friendships and made enemies of lovers, but personally I've always liked the fringe flavors more.

As was previously alluded to, the marketing for this product sets it up as something trendy and almost futuristic, a sleek slick snack that will take you from a mundane afternoon into a futuristic flashing wonderland. However, I have to say the taco flavor is way too strong, way too savory.

I am a person who enjoys tacos, and at that almost exclusively after midnight. In fact, the post-midnight mexican food run is something of a hobby for me. This is not, however, a chip I would eat that late at night. The taco spices are too heavy and overpowering, and rather than being a sleek midnight snack it's more like dinner.

I'm actually kind of conflicted here, because while I wasn't entirely enamored with the taco flavor I actually ate the whole bag pretty happily. I did it, however, the day after I'd bought them, right before I wrote this. I ate the first few last night but decided they were too heavy for the time.

Atmosphere

I may be getting obtuse here, but I always look at atmosphere when I'm doing anything. I was, as I said, initially attracted to the commercial, and the flavor of the chip didn't quite match up. This is not an out-on-the-town, look how trendy I am will all my rings and bracelets chip, but a I've-been-home-for-hours-and-don't-plan-on-leaving-tonight chip. I think some people will love the heavy flavor but for me it was just too much for a snack.


In the end, I would say this did not live up to my expectations, but I think there is definitely an audience for it.

More importantly, I think that my actual favorite Doritos flavor beats this out in every category, including how well it would fit the theme. Doritos Spicy Sweet are incredibly delicious, while being light and easy to snack on. The bag also looks amazing and honestly I think everything about it screams what I would have wanted Late Night Doritos to be like.

All in all I would say that you should try this flavor if you're into really intense chips, but don't take it clubbing because that will probably not end well.

More Like Blahg

Dear readers, it has been a full five days since my last blog. I know you may have gotten use to my rapid-fire pace of updating near the end of school, and in the absence of daily gems of wisdom I would not be surprised to find that your life had become a bleak, joyless wasteland, all greenery fading to gray ash as you struggle to find the urge to breathe, the dry dead air filling your lungs, although you derive no pleasure from this act. You stumble across the cracked, lifeless ground as you search for any small shimmer of hope, finding nothing.

And for that, I am sorry.

Here's some things:


I am still in the pincer-like grip of apathy, readers. It has permeated nearly every aspect of my life. I usually want to eat everything all the time, but lately eating has become mostly optional - I have to wonder at times if my body no longer desires sustenance, if the complete and penetrating despair that comes with summer has robbed it of the need to exert any effort to keep itself going. I still do gorge occasionally, I tend to get very hungry at night when I'm close to getting or have gotten out of work.

On a related note, I just finished a Mrs. Fields fudge cookie and it was fantastic.

---

The other night my buddy Eric had a graduation party. I got to see some of my Bostonian friends which was awesome, plus Eric's family who I adore and who very much adore me. In general it was a day of adoration.

It was especially nice because Eric has been my BFF since 1st grade but since college I have seen him by far the least of any of my friends. After the party we were chatting and ended up staying up talking for like two and a half hours after when he was going to go to bed and I was going to leave. It was awesome because we haven't had a chance to catch up one-on-one for forever.

It was unspeakably pleasant to talk to someone who inherently understands me. It's a sickeningly cliche thing to say so let me expand: I am a person who takes a lot of explaining to "get." I don't think I'm that complicated in theory but the vast majority of people completely misunderstand what I'm like.

So talking to someone who's known me since I was 7 is nice. I don't have to explain my bizarre reactions to social situations or what I think about things. We talked about comics and drawing and how terribly barren our love lives are and different kind of foods we like to eat. I don't have to try and justify or quantify things because he gets it immediately; it may not sound like much but it's not something I get a lot of and it was the first genuinely great experience of my summer.

It lifted my spirits completely, if only for a few hours.

---

I am listening to Beirut. He is a wonderful artist who plays delightful music that is pretty unique among all the dejected and contemplative indie I've been indulging in lately.

I would like some new music though, I am getting tired of the shuffle and would like to inject some new life into my iPod.

Suggestions?

---

My car and computer are falling apart at the seams.

In the case of my computer this is quite literal. My monitor is splitting up the side because the heat from the vent unter the left hinge is destroying it, which is a defect in my particular model of computer I read about a long time ago and laughed to myself because it would never happen to me.

I cannot seem to go more than 40 minutes on any given day without computer or car problems. Both these types of things hate me.

---

Generally I don't like to post my art here but here is something I drew as a gift art for a friend of mine of his badass wizard. I tend not to like tablet-only drawings but this came out rather nice which is good because I wanted to make sure it was awesome for him:


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This is best enjoyed alongside a tall, cool glass of knowing about Team Fortress 2 but should be hilarious either way:



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And finally, a game that made me laugh more than I have in months.

http://blurst.com/minotaur-china-shop/play

The psychology of this game is absolutely brilliant. I really want to discuss it but I don't want to color your expectations so go play it.

---

Value, my friends, is the theme of this entry. If you've read all the way through then you've gotten more entertainment than most people get in one week. Alternatively, perhaps you have read a new section every day and it is like I've posted many entries for you!

Clearly I am a blogging god among men.

Hey Look, More Lists

The wild Phil goes through several stages when the Summer, or "Ugh Season," begins.

1.) Terror.
2.) Anger.
3.) Depression.
4.) Apathy.

I'm in full-fledged Stage 4. The shining hope that comes with the approach of the warmth has eroded into a complete distaste for anything outside of my house and computer. Even the prospect of vacations later on in the summer sounds terrible, because anywhere my dad wants to send me I'd have a bunch of relatives feeling like they have to entertain me when I'd rather just chill and they'd rather just do whatever they want.

The thing I hate most about the summer is unequivecally that it turns me into an insufferable whining mass of terrible mood. I will say in my defense I try not to whine in person, and that 90% of the time I am it's because people keep bringing up how much my summers suck.

I'm a victim of circumstance.

One good thing: I'm applying for an internship at CPTV for the fall. It's through the writing internship program at UCONN so it is far more likely to happen than all the shot-in-the-dark summer internships I applied for.

See, the thing isn't that I hate work. No, I LIKE work. I just hate where it is I'm forced to work. The kind of things I'm doing are fundamentally not the kind of thing that I want to do, and I've been doing it for 9 years.

I've been told that I can get time off whenever I want, which is somewhat more lax than usual, but with the caveat that I have to have plans. If I don't, I'll have to work more. That's right, I get punished for not having a social life.

This is in fact a fundamental flaw in having three people on which you rely for nearly all leisure, but I am not a man who excels in the social arts, and beyond that I am terrible at having initiative to actually hang out with new people or go get a ladyfriend or something. In which case technically I can't really complain because I'm not trying.

Wha wha wha. Well-off suburban kid cries about how fantastic he has it. Why can't I even gripe about my own life without feeling guilty?

APATHY, readers. It has descended hard and fast, and while it is not inherently overtly negative it's not something to brag about.

A BETTER STORY

My chumpal Adam and I had a two person party for the Lost season finale, and prepared an epic feast fit for at least 4-5 people. We have a long history of creating epic meals (including one of the most ungodly delicious but unhealthy and heart-stopping drinks ever conceived, so powerful and calorie-packed that even divided among three people it threatened to end all our lives right there) but this was to be our greatest challenge.

I brought 18 wings and 12 potato skins from work. We went to the market and got a steak so massive we couldn't believe it had actually come from a cow, and some teriyaki mango marinade. Also we got some ice cream bars.

I am not ashamed to say it conquered us. We are only human, and it may not sound like a lot but goddamnit it was a ton of food. At the end there were a few slices of steak, two skins, and four or five wings left.

We didn't eat the ice cream because we didn't want to die.

Oh also the Lost finale was superb and we decided that every time a commerical is coming and it suddenly fades to black on Lost it should go "oooooooooh SNAP."

It was good times, readers. Good times.


It's so easy to run long on these things. If word vomit is a disease, then I have contracted it in every one of my limbs and several organs. I am, in fact, aware that the preceeding metaphor was entirely nonsensical. I'm proving my point, this is a very hands-on blog.


Hope you're all having wonderful adventures and funtimes!

And The Winner Is...

Recently, a poll was taken in which people on the street were asked which from a list of phrases most accurately described Phil.

Here are the top 5:

5.) "I've never seen Phil play the oboe but I assume he's awesome at it."
4.) "You would think someone who knows that much about X-Men would be a lot uglier."
3.) "Phil is the most skilled and passionate lover I have ever lay with."
2.) "Cashmere Mafia was a great show I don't care what anyone says."
1.) "Motherfucker loves cannolis."




Yes, it's true. I'm a man who goddamn LOVES his cannolis. I am a connoli connoseur. I love them so dearly it is physically painful.

But as one might imagine, given my extreme lifestyle, I don't get a lot of good, fresh cannolis.

In particular, I have spent the past couple of months talking about how much I wanted one of these bad boys. I hadn't had one in years, and a television program sparked a desire for one so intense that it dominated all other thoughts and feelings in my heart. I have had countless conversations about their majestic beauty, their transcendant flavor, the unimaginable texture that carresses your mouth for every tender second that this carefully crafted confection bathes you in its holy decadence.

Well, readers. Last night. Last night, by a bizarre series of chances, I was given a cannoli by a co-worker.

For the first time in months, perhaps the first time in my entire misbegotten life...

I was truly happy.




P.S. I never watched nor do I endorse Cashmere Mafia, but after trying to think of a show to use I decided this was mathematically the funniest choice. I think you'll agree.

Detrimental Demographics Delve Deeper Diagnally

It's 10:30 Friday night and I am at my apartment.

This is, as we have tirelessly established, a unique and entirely uncommon feat, though it has occured twice in the same year (unthinkable!).

The reason, of course, is that I have a final at 10:30 tomorrow morning. It is actually only my second actual exam, my third final.

My first was yesterday, and was a mexican food party. So awesome. I made mexican cheese cookies, which ended up being biscuits because I had to improvise a little on the recipe and goddamn if I'm going to be told how to make a food I've never made before. I'm pretty sure they went over well, I didn't eat anything because two days of eating raw cookie batter took its toll and I've been eating largely out of habit, though today my appetite seems to be returning.

So here I am on a Friday night in my apartment. It's pretty alright. I should have cleaned because it looks terrible and I'm leaving tomorrow, I'll probably come back next week and tidy up. This is clearly something you are all interested in.

So summer starts tomorrow. I for one could not be any more excited unless I was excited at all, which I don't happen to be. Once you have your own place, it really is kind of a pain to stay at home even if the only other person that lives there is always working and you like them a whole lot. It's home but it's not your place, y'know? It's different, and I'm bummed that I have to leave for 3 1/2 months.

Summer prospects look dim. I didn't get any summer internships which isn't entirely surprising, thuogh I damn well woulda liked that Marvel one. Summer is usually at least a little fun because my BFFs come back from school, but in a month one's moving to California, one's moving to New York, and the other will be spending most of his time in Boston. So I'm probably going to be spending a lot of the summer alonez D:

With that in mind, UCONN people, I am all for hangingz this summer. Some of you have my number, clearly I use Facebook and AIM more than is healthy so feel free to hit me up there.

Man I started this post an hour and a half ago. I had a lot more to say but I will save that for another day because this entry is bawwy enough already and I should finish studying.

Okay quick think of a clever ending

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crap.

The More You Know

After extensive scientific research, I have determined to a mathematical certainty that a baby panda going down a slide is literally the cutest thing physically possible.




I dare you to argue.

WHY...

...Is everyone always pointing at things in pictures?

I get thrown pictures of people having fun all the time on Facebook and everyone's always pointing at stuff. Sometimes they're pointing at a person, sometimes at an item, usually a bottle of alcohol, sometimes seemingly at nothing.

Really, I don't get it. When someone points a camera at me, my first thought is not that I should find something to point at.

Actually it's kind of patronizing. I can find a bottle of Jack Daniels in a picture, I don't need you to point it out to me to know you're excited about it. And if you're pointing at a person, well yes I can see there's people in the picture. Why are you directing my attention to him? WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!

I really do not understand this. I feel like as an intelligent adult I have the ability to find things in pictures and I think pictures of people having fun are ruined by everyone pointing all over the place and telling me what to look at.

This is why we can't have nice things.