Dragon House Snoozefest & How To Smoke a Brisket JIMMYSTYLE

OUR WORLD:

I know that I’m supposed to wait another day-plus because I originally titled this segment the “48 Hours Later Without Looking Stuff Up on Google”-review, but last night’s episode of “House of the Dragon” was so mind-numbingly slow that I am renaming THIS edition of the segment, “Be More Boring, I Dare You!”

We all watched that last disappointing season of “Game of Thrones” waiting for stuff to pay off so that we could text our friends things like, “THAT is why we watch this show!” But when that payoff didn’t come, our collective anger was directed at the writers of the show, (you don’t know their names, do you? Don’t Google! NOT ALLOWED TO GOOGLE OR THE SEGMENT IS FOREVER COMPROMISED!) Darren Scott and Lamar Trundleson (not even close). We all read online about how Darren and Lamar (doubling down on stupid, welcome to Jimmyschair!) had been hired to write the next Star Wars movie, and so they were rushing the end of “Game of Thrones” so they could get to do that. And for us, that wouldn’t stand! How dare the two guys who wrote the majority of a series we loved try to parlay that success into getting to helm the most renowned movie franchise of all-time! After that last episode? NOT ON OUR WATCH! So we all got online mad, vilified Darren and Lamar to the point that they got fired from that Star Wars job, and then deified George RR Martin—author of the Game of Thrones book series. “The series went downhill once RR Martin’s influence waned!” we all chanted from our dumpy bedrooms in our smelly mesh shorts (dude, you’ve had them since freshman year college. Go spend $17 at Costco for a new pair.)

This chorus for the return of more RR Martin influence reached a crescendo, shortly thereafter, when HBO announced they were making “House of the Dragon” based off his book “Fire & Blood” and that he would be listed as Executive Produce and Creator. (You clearly googled to get that information. No, we saw you go into the bathroom with your phone and then come out and write that. CHANGE THE SEGMENT TO “JIMMY GOOGLES IN THE BATHROOM AND THEN PRETENDS HE DOESN’T SO HIS READERS THINK HE’S SMARTER THAN HE IS!”) So we ignored that this was basically RR Martin’s role on “Game of Thrones” and went about our business forgetting that the last season of GOT uh….sucked…and got ourselves pumped up for “House of the Dragon” by pretending that RR Martin’s involvement was what was missing.

What we all SHOULD have done is ask, “if RR Martin was so great, why didn’t he come up with the idea to make it a show? And once that idea was brought TO HIM (it was), why didn’t he write the first episode (he didn’t).” Martin had a deal with the original writers of “Game of Thrones” (you forgot to Google that, didn’t you?) Darren Scott and Lamar Trundleson (yep) that he would write ONE episode of the show per season. And guess what? By Season 5, HE COULDN’T EVEN DO THAT! George RR Martin wrote 4 episodes of “Game of Thrones”. The series had 73 total episodes (HE’S GOOGLING AGAIN!)

All that information (that you googled and lied about doing so) was conveniently forgotten in the fallout of the “Game of Thrones” final season, and the subsequent build-up to “House of the Dragon”. I did the same! I got myself excited about this series because I loved GOT so much, and SORELY missed an event show on Sunday nights (When does Succession come back?) “The Dragon show is gonna be good cuz um, dragons, and it’s based on the book by the guy, and I think the guy is more involved in this one, and um, remember the red wedding?!” was basically how I sold this show to myself in my head (you talk to yourself?) And now we’re two episodes in, and I’m realizing what I did, what we all did, was go buy a Rolex online…and now we’ve got a “Rolecks” watch that gives your wrist a rash.

I know we all don’t want to give up on this Dragon House show, but we should. (You said you were giving it 6 episodes! Does your wife know about all of your lies?!?!) I know I said I’d give it 6 episodes before throwing in the towel, but I’m making an amendment: for each sucky episode that I do watch, subtract from the number of episodes that I vow to watch. (That was worded horribly and everybody hates you now and will never read this again.) Last night’s episode sucked. Thus, I am now down to 5 total episodes I am committing to watch. If next week’s episode sucks, I will be down to 4 total episodes, and so on.

Dragon House is excruciatingly boring in a way that seems damn near impossible considering this is a show ABOUT FIRE-BREATHING FLYING DRAGONS! We are now two episodes in, more than a full movie-length into this series, and the coolest thing we’ve seen the dragons do is…uh…No, let’s seriously answer that question. We are 120 minutes into this series, and the coolest thing we’ve seen a dragon do is fly to an almost fight, and sit nearby the standoff until the two sides agree not to fight and to return to where they came from. That is not an exaggeration. This is like if you watched “Jurassic Park” and the coolest thing you saw the T-Rex do THE ENTIRE MOVIE was sneeze (he’d sure need a big Kleenex lololololololol). Much like last week, yes, my main critique is that you have a show about dragons that barely features dragons.

“But Jimmy, they’re building up the anticipation! Remember, the wait will be worth the reward!” you say? Well first off, stop yelling at me, The Warden is asleep. Second, I don’t think the payoff CAN be worth this wait because there is no one in the show that we like yet. Hey guys, THAT’S A BIG PROBLEMO! When you’re 120 minutes into a story and there isn’t one character that you’re excited to root for when they show up on screen, that is what we in the business call a GRANDE PROBLEMO! A payoff worth this wait requires villains to root against and heroes to root for, and I don’t think we really have either yet. Let’s go through some of the hero suspects:

The King: He’s a suburban dad caught in dragon-times who is sad about having killed his wife for a chance to save his son…but then his son also died. So now he has nominated his daughter to be heir, but he doesn’t seem especially pumped about that. Oh yeah, and he definitely wants to bang his teenage daughter’s best friend (American Beauty much?) Plus, we all know he’s going to die because he has infected cuts that maggots can’t cure (shocking!)
- “Root-ability” Rating: 3.2
Rhaenyra Daughter Girl: I know we’re supposed to like her, but can she earn that first? In GOT we loved Arya because she was a total badass. What has this girl done besides ride a dragon that we already knew liked white-haired girls because we saw that in Game of Thrones already?!?!?
- “Root-ability” Rating: 3.9
The warrior guy who Rhaenyra liked because he has battle experience: Bad sign that we don’t know his name. Cole something? (Just google it, you’ve already been caught in that lie.) I do think this is the character I like the most right now because he belittled Daemon in front of everyone by reminding him that he pounded him in their battle. But…yeah, I don’t even know his name.
- “Root-ability” Rating: 4.4

How about the villain suspects you ask?

Daemon: Clearly the writers on this show want you to hate this guy, but do you yet? It’s strange because every time he’s on screen I instinctively know I’m supposed to hate him, but I don’t know why I do. Yes, he has a hate-able looking face, so that’s a great start. But, can he do something super awful first? Remember how much you hated the little boy Prince early on in GOT? He got the wolf killed! Can Daemon kill a wolf that we all love before we anoint him as a super villain. He hasn’t earned it yet. What he has done is act cocky in a battle tournament, kill a bunch of people that we didn’t know or care about in some random battle scene in the first episode, and…uh…be pissy that Rhaenyra was named heir instead of him.
- “Hate-ability” Rating: 5.2
Father guy who is trying to pimp out his 12 year-old daughter to the king: Don’t know this guy’s name, but we all know him as the guy with white dreadlocks who’s trying to pimp out his 12 year old daughter to the King. And while that is most definitely a “hey, not cool, man!”-move, the fact that this is in olden times makes me think it’s not really that messed up. (Jimmy thinks it’s cool for old men to wed 12 year-olds. He just put that in writing.) I’m not saying I think it’s cool for old men to wed 12 year-olds, but they did do awful shit like that in olden times. So, Dreadlock Dad Pimp is kinda, just doing what Dreadlock Daddy’s did back then.
- “Hate-ability” Rating: 4.1
The King’s Hand: We think he’s on the good guys’ team because he’s the King’s hand, but he looks like a weasel and is mean to his daughter who-BY THE WAY-he is also trying to pimp out to the King! See! Just another run-of-the-mill Dad Pimp!
- “Hate-ability” Rating: 3.6

With no real heroes and no real villains, what possibly payoff is even plausible? What scene could happen that makes us all forget that the first 120 minutes of this show has included no memorable scenes or characters? You see, the longer this bore-a-thon goes, the better the payoff scene has to be, and at this point, it already would have to be an electric shock of a scene.

The only hope I see is this crab guy we caught a glimpse of at the end. The scenes with the crabs were creepy, and that guy does look pretty terrifying in that mask. Could he turn into something we all band together in rooting against? Possibly. Unfortunately, creating the type of vitriolic hate we would need for a proper payoff moment, would require the writers of this show doing something they have yet to prove capable of: writing an interesting scene.

MY WORLD:

I’m going to smoke a brisket on Saturday and I’d like to tell you how I’m going to by giving you my steps and recipe for how to do it, and what to expect the rest of your day to look like while doing it. The ingredients, tools and process-notes you’ll need for the first JIMMYSCHAIR SMOKED BRISKET RECIPE!!!

Ingredients:

12-15lb brisket. I like to get it from Costco because they’re priced the best (just say ‘cheapest’) and they taste just as good as the expensive ones I’ve gotten from the local butcher (so you don’t support local business.)
Yellow Mustard. Have about a half of a squeeze bottle or just stop being a cheapass and buy a new bottle for this. Jesus.
Kosher Salt. A lot.
Apple juice.
Coarse black pepper. Also, a lot. (Love the precise measurements.)

Tools:

Smoker. (How dumb do you think your readers are?) I use a big offset charcoal smoker. I use it because I want to pretend I’m an authentic traegers-are-for-clowns-smoker-guy AND because I don’t want to spend what it would cost for a green egg (I’ll take “Cheap white guy things” for $400 please!)
Charcoal and Wood chunks. How much? Uh, like a lot. I prefer the lump charcoal because it appears more authentic (sound reasoning) and big wood chunks because they burn longer. What flavor of wood? I honestly don’t think this really matters so I just go with my heart whenever I’m in the store the day of.
Butcher paper. This is key and it’s not the easiest to find. Last time I did a brisket I just asked the butcher at my local grocery store if he had any butcher paper he could spare. He did, so I used that. And you are correct, I did just take free butcher paper.
A portable cooler. You know, like the ones you bring to a tailgate.
A digital meat thermometer. One that’ll give you internal and external readings. Wireless is best so you can sit on your fatass inside for a little while your brisket gets oooooohhhhh sooooo sweatyyyyyy (good lord that was creepy.)
An empty spray bottle
A towel. (You have to shower with your brisket?!?!)

The Process:

Get up at 5:30 AM. This is serious work and serious work requires an early morning. Plus, when you’re telling people about your day, it’s going to really impress them if you get started before 6 (they’ll be even more impressed if you’re slurring your speech while telling them all of this). Get up quietly because this early morning alone time is going to be SO CHOICE. Make a huge pot of coffee and be really dramatic about how good the coffee grinds smell. Like, yeah, open the container and smell them and say something like, “ahhhhhhh.”
Slather your big, stinky brisket in yellow mustard. Put some vinyl gloves on for this, otherwise it feels ICKY and Jimmy NO LIKEY ICKY FEELYS (is there a video somewhere of you getting punched? We’d love to see it!)
Dump generous amounts of kosher salt and coarse black pepper all over every part of this brisket. Make sure to get the sides too. You’re not going to put too much salt or pepper on it. Do I know this? No, but it’s what I tell myself. The best part of the brisket is the bark, and you’re not going to have flavorful bark without a dump truck worth of salt and pepper. (How have you not opened up your own bbq restaurant yet?!?!)
Bring a Yeti full of coffee out to your grill area in back. Hopefully, you can wear a hoodie because hoodie morning weather makes every man about 18% happier. Have a podcast going. Look up to the sky, smile and gently shake your head because “God, just doesn’t deserve someone like me.” Scream at your dog to be quiet. Chuckle it off when you see your next-door neighbor is outside and just heard you gritted-teeth growl “shut the fuck up!” at your cute dog.
Get your smoker to a stable 225 degrees. This part is always the part I have a really hard time with, and it takes longer than you want it to. This is the part that can derail your day. Put a helmet on, get ready for fucking battle. Aim low on the temperature. It’s much easier to get a smoker hotter, than it is to cool it down. The first time I did this, I got mine up to 300+ degrees and it took like A GODDAMN YEAR to get it back down to 225-250.
Before you put your brisket on the actual smoker, make sure your basement fridge is stocked. Listen here buddy, you’re drinking today. So go down, and take a look at what you’ve got. Get yourself excited. Put on a Huey Lewis song and plan out what time you’re going to crack the first one. I suggest a lite beer around 10am. Then think about the afternoon IPAs. Blow a kiss at your alcohols and tell them that you’ll see them soon.
Get that brisket on the smoker. You need to get the internal temperature of your brisket to 165 degrees before you take it out and wrap it in butcher paper. So, put the brisket on fat side up (so the fat drips down or whatever) and plan on about 8ish hours here to get it to 165.
Check the time and get kinda pissed that it’s not 10AM yet. Wonder what to do for the next hour-plus. Try sitting and enjoying the weather in your backyard. Stare off into the distance. Wonder why you don’t have a better job. Think about the money you wasted on grad school. Start to hate yourself. Go inside to eat carbs.
Eat carbs.
Oh thank god, it’s 10am. Dive down your basement stairs because it’s faster than running and get a Lite beer out of the fridge.
The “I wonder what’s in Jimmy’s red plastic cup at 10:01 AM”-plan is keeping everyone in the dark, so you go outside. Get the spray bottle and spray your nastyboy piece o’ meat with apple juice (the brisket, right?) Do this about every hour. You don’t have to drench it, but this will help keep it moist while also helping…I don’t know bind the bark or something. Look, I heard this is what you do, so just fucking do it.
Go back inside to see that your wife has changed the TV from ‘College Gameday’ on ESPN to some episode of “The Mindy Kaling Show”. Don’t get mad. Don’t!
Start to get mad, go to the bathroom, look at yourself in the mirror and say, “Don’t let her know you’re mad because that will start a fight that will last all day.” Go back outside, and when she asks, “oh, want me to change it back?” Say, “No thanks, it’s so nice out!”
Stew.
Get more drinks.
Once the internal temperature gets to 165, wrap it in butcher paper, and put it back on the smoker (still at 225-250). You’ll keep it on here until the internal temperature gets to 203 degrees. Yes, that’s a magic number that has relevance but I don’t remember why so, again, just fucking do it.
Think back to how you didn’t get to see Lee Corso put the mascot head on at the end of “College Gameday” because your wife had to watch the Mindy Kaling episode where the guy doesn’t like her that much AGAIN.
Stew.
When your brisket finally hits that 203 degree internal temperature, take the wrapped brisket off the smoker. Keeping it wrapped in the butcher paper, now you need to wrap it in a big fluffy towel. Use your wife’s favorite, softest towel because this brisket is the new love of your life that would never change the channel off College Gameday before Lee Corse put the mascot head on.
Wonder which mascot head Lee Corse put on earlier.
Wrap the brisket in wife’s favorite towel.
Say “no” when your wife asks if you used her towel to wrap the brisket.
Now sloppily wrapped in your wife’s amazing favorite towel, place the brisket in the portable cooler where you’ll leave it OVERNIGHT!!! Yeah, this makes a huge difference—this resting time makes the bark SO much better.
Stop drinking.
Get another beer.
Respond to your wife with only one-word answers.
Go to bed. Don’t say anything about the College Gameday thing.
Get back up. Get another beer.
Google “can I watch a replay of College Gameday if I didn’t record it?”
Fall asleep on the couch 8 minutes after promising your wife you’d be upstairs in just a few minutes.
Wake up hungover on the couch in the clothes you fell asleep in.
Your brisket is ready. Eat it.
Whatever.

LETS LOVE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

The random weekday rain during the summer giving you the perfect excuse to stay inside and be fat and lazy all day.

LETS HATE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

Shaving.

JIMMY GAMBLES:

College football actually starts this THURSDAY! Last Saturday doesn’t count because it was a weird Ireland game that I couldn’t even gamble on and then a bunch of other bad games. So, for Thursday’s games, gimme West Virginia (+7.5) at Pitt, Purdue (+3.5) hosting Penn State, and Oklahoma State (-21.5) hosting Central Michigan. These have no chance!

K bye.

I May Be in Serious Legal Trouble

MY WORLD:

My world is a little baby girl right now (every living thing in the universe just rolled their eyes. No Jimmy, I’m not kidding. Even cadavers, and weird animals with no eyes.). Yeah, writing that first sentence made my skin crawl, but I promise to always be honest in this blog (tell us EXACTLY how much you owe in student loans then!) and that’s a totally honest statement. I’m not writing it to sound like the sensitive, stunningly hot, surprisingly JACKED Dad that you’re thinking I may be (not thinking that) I’m writing it because I’ve been trying to think of what to write in this section and I don’t want it to ALWAYS be about our dumb baby who CAN’T EVEN FART WITHOUT CRYING YET! Seriously, what if you cried every time you farted? Actually, yeah. If you’re reading this and you don’t have kids yet and are wondering “but Jimmy, now that you’ve been a parent for 4 seconds, what is parenting REALLY like?” WELL, SINCE YOU ASKED! If you’re wondering if you and your partner are ready to parent a newborn, try this: for the next 24 hours, every time you have to fart, start scream crying. Every single time you feel a fart, you have to start huffing, and then have that constipated huffing sound VIOLENTLY turn into growling cries that last no shorter than 11 minutes. After 24 hours, if neither you or your spouse has started cutting yourself, then you’re ready to be a parent! Congratulations!!!

Okay, that was a sidetrack. (I hate you.) My world is the little baby in my house right now, so you’re just going to need to bear with me and this section for a little. For the sake of this dumbass blog, my wife is the VP of Ops, and my baby will now be referred to as “The Warden”. I promise it won’t be all parenting stories. Now, instead of complaining about the things a baby does (you just did that, though? Oh, you think the readers won’t be able to tell that your “hypothetical” challenge was related to your daughter? So you think your readers are dumb. See this everyone? HE THINKS YOU’RE ALL IDIOTS!) I’m going to write about how bad of a parent I am here. I think you need to know the mistakes I’m making because there’s a chance that I shouldn’t be allowed to do this. Like, legally. I’m not a lawyer (then why do you have SO MUCH student loan debt?)

Last night, I think I almost popped the Warden’s head off. Not…wait…okay, it’s not like I grabbed her head and was trying to rip it off (this is not going well.) You need context (and YOU need a lawyer.)

So, the Warden was going El Nutso. It was about dusk and, according to our calculations, she should have been sweetly resting in her swing thing so the VP and I could cook and drink ranch waters until driving would be a crime. Surprisingly, our calculations were off. (You just put ‘80085’ into the calculator, didn’t you?) The Warden alerted us to this miscalculation with the use of rage squirming and growl howling deep into the early night sky. Like any fabulous parents, the VP and I both calmly took turns reminding the Warden that we could, in fact, hear her and that we would love to comply with any requests. Unfortunately, the Warden did not have any demands. She simply needed the world to hear her.

The VP held her on her chest. I cradled her gently and rocked her back and forth while singing her my new song, entitled “I love you, but you are being kind of a jerk.” Then we put her in the rocking swing. We put the sweet music on in the rocking swing! The shusher machine (wut?) Yeah, we literally have a little machine thing that just goes “shhhhhhhh”. So we put that on. No dice. Then the VP was all like, “well, should we sell her on the internet?” and I was like, “no, this is my baby! And I love her! And that love is worth more to me than the hundreds of thousands of dollars we might be able to get for her on the internet. Not to mention, I bet you don’t even know what website we could list her on! Do you?! Do you know what website we could put her for sale on? What is the website? What is it? Yeah, but how do you spell that?”

I shut The VP’s laptop HARD, and told her “I got this.” I took the Warden, who I love more than hundreds of thousands of dollars, into the other room as I went into “Daddy’s got this”-mode.

That’s when I almost popped her head off. You see, I have recently been implementing this burping method that I saw on Instagram. Now I know what you’re thinking, “you’re going to Instagram for parenting advice?” Well, the portly woman in the video had white hair and spoke in calming tones so…uhhhhhh, yeah, I think she knows what she’s doing!

This perfectly legitimate burping method, includes me putting the Warden on my knee and then holding her cheeks with one hand, while my other hand works on her back to help her sit straight up as I rotate her around in small circles. The idea is to expand her stomach, allowing her diaphragm (haha you said diaphragm) to expand and expel gas. DAD OF THE FUCKING CENTURY, MUCH?!?!?!

However, the Warden’s violent wailings had an unforeseen consequence of forcing my brain to tell my body to something else. You see, instead of my brain telling my other hand to go on her back, my brain told my other hand to go on the back of her neck. So, when I tried to sit her up straight, my hands were basically ONLY HOLDING HER HEAD. In short, I lifted her by her head and, look, she’s small and I think there was definitely a chance of it popping off. Judging by her screams, against all odds, increasing in volume, it did appear that the Warden, too, thought her head was about to pop off.

Now, I know the Warden is clearly at fault here for screaming me stupid, but…like, am I in any legal trouble? Legally speaking, can I be charged with ‘attempted head pop’? That’s not a charge, right. It’s not, so, you’re actually the one on trial now. How dare you accuse me of attempted head pop! Don’t tell me how to parent! Nah nah nah, SAVE IT! MY LIL BABY WARDEN’S HEAD IS STILL ON! TELL IT TO THE JUDGE! I’LL PUT YOU ON TRIAL!

(Are you fucking drunk? Or you’re just dumb all the time now?)

OUR WORLD:

You know that feeling when you’re in a small, shitty town and you go to a restaurant that you know is going to suck? That’s what being a Bears fan this year, and most years, is like. You’re super hungry and want a break from the gas station ‘Subway’, so you say something like “we should give Memphis Grill a shot!” And instead of reminding yourself that there’s no goddamn way a place in Arkansas called “Memphis Grill” is going to be good, you dilute yourself into thinking this place was on the ONE episode of “Diners, Drive-Ins, and Dives” that your fatass hasn’t seen yet. Well guess what tubby (really going after your fat self here), just like every episode of Triple D, you’ve seen this Bears season before! And just like “Memphis Grill” it’s going to make your stomach hurt and make you sad.

But who wants to read about this sour meat NFL season Bears fans are about to chow down on?!?! That’s no fun. So, the same way you convince yourself that Arkansas’ “Memphis Grill” is going to actually be good, let’s do that with the Bears.

The “you can’t mess up a hamburger that bad” possibility: Justin Fields has dominated football games since he was a little kid. He was the top recruit in the country out of high school, and then threw for a billion touchdowns at Ohio State. He had one of the best, toughest performances I’ve ever seen in a bowl game against a Clemson defense that is probably all in the pros now. I know the Bears suck at life, but they can’t mess HIM up that bad, right? He can’t dominate every level of football, get to the league, look around Soldier Field and go “oh wait, I’m a Bear now, so I need to start sucking ass at playing football”. RIGHT?!?!

The “as long as you stay away from the seafood, you’ll be fine” possibility: As long as we run the ball and play solid defense, we’ll be able to stay in games. And if you stay in games, you can steal some? And if Justin Fields doesn’t realize he’s supposed to SUCK now that he’s a Bear, maybe he can actually win us a game or two? As long as our defense holds up, we could surpise some people. Hey, Eberflus-led defenses have been awesome in Indianapolis and it’s not like they’ve had superb quarterback play over the past few years. And those Colts teams contended for playoff spots basically every year he was there. So…hmm…

The “every town has a hidden little gem” possibility: What if Darnell Mooney IS that dude? I know he was drafted in a late round and has oddly skinny legs, but what if he actually does turn into a legitimate number one receiver? His training camp highlights have been pretty sick. Him and Fields seem to have some serious chemistry. Cooper Kupp wasn’t a first round pick! Is it that OUTRAGEOUS to envision Darnell Mooney as Cooper Kupp-lite? If he turns into a legit number one, I could see Cole Kmet taking some strides and becoming an above-average tight end. If you close your eyes and just say “Darnell Mooney becomes a LEGIT number one receiver this year,” the Bears offense has a chance to be not awful.

Okay, I’m exhausted. That was mentally and physically exhausting. But you better fuckin’ believe those are the little thoughts running around my head as we head into this NFL season.

CAN’T WE GET LUCKY ONE TIME AND NOT HAVE DIARRHEA AFTER A BEARS SEASON?!?!

LETS LOVE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

College football kicks off a week from tomorrow. Next week, we should talk about what we’re all going to be doing and cooking and eating and drinking and wearing. I might buy a new QZ. IN FACT, I AM GOING TO BUY A NEW QZ!!!!

LETS HATE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

The self-checkout lanes at grocery stores. I will stand in line to have humans that are NOT ME scan and bag my groceries. I can’t be the only one who gets big time anxiety when using the self-checkout lane and running out of space on the scale after I’ve scanned a bunch of items. It’s like there is ZERO CHANCE I’m not going to get the error message on the screen saying “Please put your item on the scale after scanning.” It makes me so mad I wanna hit the screen with a spiked hammer. JUST MAKE A BIGGER SCALE AREA!

JIMMY COOKS:

I’m on a huge sandwich kick lately (lately? Okay pal! Hey everyone, Jimmy JUST got into sandwiches), and I recently made one for my brother that was a HIT. I stole the recipe from a restaurant I used to work at, but last I checked…that restaurant doesn’t have a blog. Sooooooo, MY RECIPE NOW BITCH! Here’s what you do:

Find someone you want to impress with a great sandwich.
Tell that person to sit back, relax, and strap it down.
Buy a nice French baguette, prosciutto, brie, arugula, red onion, and mayo.
Cut the red onion into thin slices. Razor thin. If you don’t cut yourself while cutting this onion, the slices aren’t thin enough.
Cut the brie into triscuit-like squares (are rectangles okay? WHAT ABOUT TRIANGLES?!?!)
Drizzle olive oil on the baguette and slightly toast it on a pan (on a pan? Why not a bowl? Thanks for the tip!)
On baguette, you’re going mayo, prosciutto, brie, arugula, thin thin THIN red onion (thin, as in the opposite of Jimmy)
Give that person you’re looking to impress this sandwich.
If this person^ is an attractive female, give her my telephone number and don’t tell her I’m married.
Yes, you can put some Dijon mustard on there, but only if you hold up the mustard and say in your best French accent “pardon, do you have any grey poupon?” and then laugh hard like a real jerk until the entire room feels uncomfortable.

K, bye.

I’m Not Exercising, but It’s Not My Fault

*Quick disclaimer: Remember when I wrote about how I was shot in the head by the Chicago Bears starting kicker? That was like so so long ago that I can’t even remember it! Tehehehehe! I just want you to know that I’m okay. Unfortunately, due to doctor-patient legalese that I don’t want to bore you with, I can’t get into specifics like if I was actually shot in the head with a gun by Cody Parkey. Just know that I’m going to be okay and I WOULD get into it, but I don’t want to be tied up in court cases for the foreseeable future. Lawyers, amirite?!?!

OUR WORLD:

For most of you, now is the time of year you’re getting back into shape, looking in the mirror and saying things like “this year’s gonna be different”, getting more serious about your career, and showing off all the new clothes you got for Christmas. What a hopeful time! But then, there are people like…well, me. The kind of people who went to the gym yesterday, realized they forgot to pack gym shorts, and used that as a very very acceptable excuse to then go home without working out. Do you live 2 blocks from the gym too? Did you also then drink a beer while watching “The Bachelor” on DVR?!?! MY PEOPLE!

In an effort to help all of my fellow Chairmen out there (whoa, who wants to start a “Chairmen” fan club?!?!) I wanted to help you out with things you can watch and listen to while you’re at home and not at the gym but only because you forgot to pack your shorts. Don’t worry, we all know had you packed your shorts, you’d be pounding that treadmill like all those try-hards clogging your Facebook feed with their #NewYearNewMe selifes.

THE JIMMYSCHAIR “DAMN, I FORGOT TO PACK MY GYM SHORTS, AND I CAN’T WORKOUT IN WORK PANTS, SO I’M HEARTBROKEN TO BE FORCED TO JUST GO HOME AND DO THIS INSTEAD” LIST

WATCH THIS: “Bodyguard” (Netflix Show)

The first half of the first episode of this show is, quite possibly, the most exciting first half of an episode of television I have ever seen. Quite? You know what, I’m gonna upgrade that to ‘VERY quite’. Aside from looking to your significant other and saying things like “holy fucking butt!” you will find yourself wondering where the main dude is from. He has one of those “I know you”-faces and it’ll take a minute. Then your wife will look it up on IMDB, even though you ask her to “let me think about it,” and tell you that it’s the Game of Thrones guy! The one that….?! YEAH! THAT ONE!

I know how hard it is to get into a new show these days, with all of the options out there, but this one has an easy litmus test. If you watch the first 15 minutes and aren’t into it, then pull the ripcord because you’re A LOON WHO COULDN’T RECOGNIZE GREAT TELEVISION IF IT SHOT YOU IN THE HEAD LIKE CODY PARKEY SHO—(REDACTED BY JIMMY’S LEGAL TEAM)—and now people are feeling bad for him?!?!?! Sorry, I lost control for a second. Just watch the first 15 minutes of the first episode and judge for yourself.

Oh yeah, quickly, I would like to officially announce that I have flipped my long held belief that watching a show with subtitles STINKS. There’s an exception to that rule: if the main characters have thick accents, subtitles do not stink. In fact, they enhance the viewing experience because you’ll no longer have to rewind every 3.7 seconds when your wife goes “wait, what did he just say?” Trust me, aside from being able to know exactly what Andy Accent just said, you’re also going to avoid many “well maybe if you’d just pay attention and stop looking at your phone, you’d know what he said”-fights with your significant other.

What is the show actually about? Look it up on IMDB. It doesn’t matter, though, I’m telling you it’s good.

LISTEN TO THIS: “Bag Man” (Podcast)

If you’re looking to not think about sports because the kicker for your favorite team recently missed a kick, forcing your favorite team out of the playoffs before they were supposed to be out, and then ended up shooting yo–(REDACTED BY JIMMY’S LEGAL TEAM)–and you’re like, how do people still feel bad for this guy?!?! Then I am BEGGING you to listen to this podcast hosted by Rachel Maddow. Not a fan of Rachel Maddow? First off, that’s a red flag that you’re a red jag (I’m really proud of that line and am going to take a lap around the apartment to celebrate it) but, also, you don’t have to be a fan of hers to enjoy this. However you feel politically, there’s no argument that she has a nice voice. It’s soothing and smart without being too NPR-ish (why does everyone on NPR whisper-talk?!?!)

So you settle in with a smart, soothing voice to help you forget the third workout in a row you’ve missed because you forgot to pack those damn shorts again!!! From there, it’s an incredibly fascinating deep dive into the story surrounding Richard Nixon’s VP (not his wife), Spiro Agnew. Have you heard of this dude before? Oh…you have? Yeah, me too. Totally. Spiro? I thought you said ‘Steven’! Yeah, I know Spiro. It was confusing cuz I was all like “I definitely know a Spiro Agnew, but I don’t know a Steven Agnew.”

Anyway, as we all know, Spiro Agnew, was Nixon’s VP throughout his first term and up until right before the Watergate shit REALLY hit the fan. He ended up resigning because of…well, people weren’t really sure but it seemed like it was kinda related to some minor tax evasion issue. The real story of why he actually resigned was lost in the glut of history, and that’s what this podcast delves into. Why was Spiro Agnew the first VP to ever resign while in office? And, folks, it was not just because of some minor tax evasion charge. We’re talking conspiracy, “I can’t believe this happened in real life”-type shit. It’s intoxicating.

The VP and I listened to this entire series while driving down to Mississippi for Christmas and it made me love sitting in my car for hours on end. Since listening to this podcast, I have been obsessed with everything related to Watergate and Nixon. History repeats itself y’all, and I can’t wait to write a review 20 years from now about “Bag Man 2: Trump Did Bad Stuff!”

COOK THIS: Gorgonzola-Stuffed Steak Roll-Ups

Every year when The VP and I head down to her family’s in Mississippi, I cook a meal for everybody one night. It makes me feel like less of a piece of shit for eating all their food for a week, and The VP gets to offer to help me in front of her Mom (I decline this help because I don’t need help. Ever.) Last year I made Chicken Parmesan and spaghetti, but this year I wanted to step it up a notch; a last ditch effort to get everyone to be impressed with me despite my wardrobe.

So I looked up a fancy recipe and this one was the perfect combination of looking like it took a TON of skill and effort, while not actually taking that much skill or effort. BINGO! Here’s what you do:

–Get a flank steak that’s butterflied. If you get one that’s not butterflied already, GOOD LUCK PAL!

–Sprinkle kosher salt and ground black pepper all over the steak. The higher you hold your hand while sprinkling, the cooler you look.

–Across the middle, line the steak with gorgonzola cheese, fire-roasted chopped red peppers, and arugula. You’re going to roll this shit up, so don’t go nuts with how much of each you put in.

–Time to roll that steak over the cheese, peppers and arugula. This is kinda gross as you really have to manhandle the meat to do this properly, but that’s what badass professional chefs do. Word to the wise; once rolled, you’re going to need to tie this bad boy. Have 6-8 long pieces of kitchen twine cut before you start to roll the steak.

–Once rolled, tie it up with the kitchen twine. Think one tie every 1.5 inches along the length of the steak roll. Tie it especially at the ends of the steak. You’re trying to keep all the gooey cheesiness inside.

–Cut this steak roll into like 4 equal pieces. Make sure not to cut too close to the ties, so as not to undo all the cool badass chef stuff you’ve done already. You’re going to sear these.

–Once cut, get a cast iron skillet SCORCHING hot with olive oil. I’m talking the kind of hot that sets off the smoke alarm in your Ukrainian Village, one-bedroom apartment (just me?) You’re going to sear these steak pinwheels, cut-side down, for about 2 minutes each side. Once done. Pop the skillet with the steak pinwheels into the oven (350 degrees) for about 10 more minutes.

–Take out of the oven, cover with foil on a plate, and let rest for 5 minutes before cutting the twine and serving.

–Serve and act all nonchalant about what you just did.

MY WORLD:

With my head recovering from–(REDACTED BY JIMMY’S LEGAL TEAM)–I wanted to talk about something a little lighter today. And by lighter, I mean food that makes you heavier! I give you the Official 2019 Jimmyschair Fast Food Chain Restaurants Ranking (Pizza not allowed):

McDonald’s: Best chemicals in the game. I’m not debating this.
Chick Fil A: There’s no denying those biscuits. Also, the service is just delightful!
Newks: Southern sandwich/pizza chain. The Newks Q is all I want to eat when I’m visiting the VPs fam. Like, every meal. I’m not exaggerating that I suggest it for every meal.
In-N-Out: I was a hater for no good reason for way too long. The cheeseburger is so good, it doesn’t matter that the fries suck.
Potbelly: Chicken salad sandwich with bacon. FOGETTABOUDIT!
Starbucks: their sandwiches are tremendous. Also, don’t sleep on their chocolate chip cookies.
Taco Bell: Had it for the first time last year. What a revelation. The taco with the Dorito shell is a game-changer.
Kane’s Chicken: Best sauce in the entire universe.
Auntie Anne’s: Limited menu? Yes. But is there a better smell in the world than those pretzels?
Jimmy John’s: Their bread is incredible and has become my go-to sandwich spot when I’m hungover.

LETS LOVE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

The VP and I watched “The Bachelor” last night and it was just okay, which is why I didn’t write a full-on review. This season is all about how the bachelor, Colton, is a virgin. It’s weird. There was a part that made me laugh really hard though, and so I recorded it. Chris Harrison, the host, was talking to Colton about how people have reacted to him being a virgin. As Colton went through some insults hurled his way, Chris Harrison forced his way in with a “that you’re not a man!” and it got me REAL GOOD. Enjoy.

LETS HATE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

When you wake up with a crick in your neck and you have to do weird neck stretches all day that make you look like the bad guy from “Men In Black”.

JIMMY GAMBLES:

I made a bet with a friend of mine that the Cody Parkey will not be on the Bears opening day roster next year. This means that he now has to root for the Bears to keep the person who just ruined the most fun season of the past 10 years. HAVE FUN WITH THAT PAL!

K bye.

Car People and Tight Shorts (6/6/18)

MY WORLD:

A few years back, The VP of Ops and I got in a big fight about me being wrong and not admitting it and then getting madder at her for pointing that out and it turned into a real THING. Mind you, our fights usually consist of me being in some sort of mood (Shut up to all the people saying “such a Gemini”-in their head rn) or The VP just absolutely refusing to admit when she may have been wrong. It’s the same routine most times where we’ll get mad, kinda snap without yelling, make exchange some cutting remarks in the guise of “being funny”, give each other the silent treatment for a few hours and then gently start to make gentler jokes about the fight as we wait for the other one to apologize first (spoiler alert: IT’S ALWAYS ME BECAUSE GAH FUHBIH SHE EVER ADMITS THAT SHE WAS WRONG!) Anyway, this particular fight a few years back, was ratcheted up a few notches because it happened later in the evening after we had entered HAMMEREDVILLE, USA. You know those drunk fights where halfway through you catch yourself in a sober flash thinking “wait, why am I mad? Uh oh…I have no idea…DOESN’T MATTER, KEEP GOING!”? It was one of those. This night, however, my power move wasn’t just a silent treatment, but it was to retreat to the only place I can truly be myself: my car. (Don’t worry, I wasn’t going to drive anywhere. The plan was to sleep in my car…then I realized the backseat was supes uncomfy so I waited another 11 minutes before slithering back into our apartment. Uh….yeah, I think she got the point!)

We’re different people in our cars, right? Maybe I’m saying that because I’m in mine a lot and I act like a borderline mental patient in mine, but where else are you alone in a soundproof box with windows? It’s as close as we’ll ever come to being invisible in public (hey inventors, get off your asses and prove me wrong!) and I don’t know about you guys, but I relish this pseudo-invisibility. WHO’S WITH ME? Here are some of my classic “I can do this because I’m alone in a soundproof box”-moves:

-Front-seat Dancing: Singing is obvious and I can be one basic bitch so, yeah, I sing too, but the seated dance moves I’ve developed are nothing short of…well, probably disappointing. BUT! While I’m doing them, my brain is flooded with “remember this move next time you’re being looked at on a dance floor!” (Can someone also have a chair ready for me?) If you’re curious about what these moves are (WE ARE! JIMMY! WE ARE!) close your eyes TIGHT and think rolling shoulders mixed with pointing fingers that SOMETIMES curl back into air drum routines. Mind you, these moves are more likely to come out on Thursdays and Fridays as JGT (Jimmy Good Times!!!) nears his weekend entrance. And the bands/musicians that bring these hotsex seated dance moves out? We’re talking CHVRCHES, Steve Winwood (JGT’S FAVORITE), and maybe some cool-guy “I’m a rapper when I’m alone in my car”-moves for Old Kanye. I will warn you, however, that if you play any of this music while in the car with me, you will not see these moves. They are strictly for Alone-In-The-Car-Jimmy. I have made eye contact with random drivers mid-move, and I immediately stop and look up and away kinda’ like how Michael Cera did during the awkward moments in “Superbad”.

-The “I’m Pissed” Arm Toss: Middle fingers are so 1999, guys. When I get mad, and I’m either in front of or directly behind the car that made me mad, I toss my arm up like I’m flinging a frisbee through my sunroof. Here’s the thing though: there is no frisbee, and I have no sunroof. You just got hit with the Jimmyschair patented “I’m pissed” arm toss. And if you’re not feeling guilty for what you and your FUCKING car just did to me? Then I hope you rot in hell. Now I will say that this move is NOT restricted to Alone-In-The-Car-Jimmy (let’s call Alone-In-The-Car-Jimmy; JimE cuz it’s edgy but still sounds like my name!) The VP was introduced to the “I’m Pissed” Arm Toss early on in our relaish (what hip lingo doesn’t Jimmy know?!?!) after some pisspants cut me off. I don’t remember her exact reaction, but it was along the lines of a dripping-sarcastic “wow, my hero!” I always use my right arm because it’s stronger (thus, more intimidating) and there are no less than 4 tosses per day. JimE’s thinking? Chicago traffic is bad because there are too many guilt-free drivers not realizing the damage they’re causing by SWITCHING LANES WITHOUT A GODDAMN SIGNAL. The “I’m Pissed” Arm Toss slings guilt from my Chevy Equinox the way a Catholic Priest does during his sermon. Should we start calling my right arm Father Arm O’Tossahand?

-Talking to myself: The invention of speakerphone has provided the perfect cover for talking to yourself in the car. Even if you’re caught by a red-light neighbor, you can shoot the “I’m on the phone”-look (there’s a look for that? YEAH DUMMY!) Whether it’s preparing for an upcoming presentation; or running a “mock argument” that I’m anticipating later that day; or pretending that I’m being interviewed by a late-night talk show host, there is no shortage of my voice in my car. What’s weird about talking to yourself is that if you do in front of people, you’re obviously a LOON. BUT! I would also posit (nice word) that if you don’t do it while you’re alone, you are simply a different breed of LOON. Are there actually people who never talk to themselves? Is that the origin story of every socially awkward person? (Jimmy seems to really want to convince us that talking to yourself is not only not crazy, but normal. Hey Jimmy, PLEASE START TAKING PILLS PRESCRIBED BY A LICENSED PSYCHIATRIST!) This morning, for instance, I have about an hour-long commute, during which I plan to hold an interview where my current-self asks my future-self all about why it took so long for me (us?) to break into Hollywood’s writing scene. I can’t wait to give humble answers.

OUR WORLD:

Hopefully, you haven’t been like me lately and eating copious amounts of cheese dips. My summer bod is taking a hiatus that my shorts from last year were NOT prepared for. Therefore, I am entering a “I’m going to try to eat super healthy during the week, so I can pig out on weekends without having to buy all new summer clothes”-diet. If, unfortunately, you are like me and are looking to enter a similar shorts-saving campaign, here is what I have eaten and plan to eat for the rest of this week’s dinner. I give you, some healthy meals that don’t suck:

-Baked Chicken Wings: As long as you don’t coat them in flour or use butter in your buffalo sauce, I think we’re pretty gucci here. On its own, buffalo sauce ain’t that bad for you according to my brain when it looks at the nutritional info on the back of the Frank’s Buffalo Sauce bottle.

-Turkey Tacos: Lean turkey meat with taco seasoning is FINE, and I’m pretty sure if you use corn tortillas, it’s basically like eating corn…which is a vegetable and, therefore, GOOD FOR YOU. Skip the sour cream, but allow a little cheese. Atkins allows cheese and it’s kinda’ Atkins-y, so the cheese is okay.

-Skirt Steak with Chimichurri and Asparagus: Chimichurri is like limey pesto and errbody knows I love me some pesto. Skirt Steak is protein and protein is good because muscle guys talk about it a lot. The asparagus makes your pee smell weird which is a sign that you’re keeping your body on it’s toes with this new healthy-you. Watch out bod, things are a changing!

-Grilled Chicken and Broccoli: I’m not gonna lie, this is a boring-ass meal. However, you need to throw in one super healthy boring meal a week so you have something to truly brag about to your friends this weekend. Get ready to drop health-bombs on them like “it’s so nice not having to have another chicken and broccoli dish this week!” All your friends will get quiet and think to themselves “shit, what did he mean by another? I didn’t even have ONE chicken and broccoli meal this week!” That’s cuz you’re not as healthy as us, SUCKER!

And then Friday night comes and everything goes to hell. GOOD LUCK TO ME AND US AND EVERYONE WITH LAST YEAR’S SHORTS! (Or in my case, shorts I think I bought at least 6 years ago.)

LETS LOVE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

When your dog starts barking at a sound they hear in your apartment building, but before you can yell at them to be quiet, they run over to “protect” you. There’s part of me that kinda’ hopes that one day someone bursts through the door and calls Belle’s bluff.

LETS HATE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

Shaving. I’m putting it off because it’s never NOT annoying. I feel bad that girls can’t grow leg beards and, like guys, just be like “it’s a new look I’m trying out.” Of course they can, but like…maybe don’t. Please.

WRITING ABOUT GAMBLING ON THE NBA FINALS IS BORING ME SO I’M GOING TO TAKE A BREAK FROM IT FOR A LITTLE BIT. PLEASE DON’T CRY LIKE “BACHELORETTE” LINCOLN ABOUT THIS.

K bye.

Be Happy You Don’t Have These Jobs! (4/23/18)

OUR WORLD:

Welcome to what is quickly becoming everyone’s favorite Monday tradition: the jimmyschair “At Least I Don’t Have To Do That”-Job list.

Animal Control Officer:

You ever read those stories where someone comes home to discover an anaconda coming up through their toilet? There is a person whose job it is to just “take care of that.” What if that was your first call on a Monday morning? Like you, Roberta AnimalControl got after it a little too much on Saturday night and is still trying to shake off the cobwebs 2 days later. She picked up a fatty Dunkin’ Donuts sandwich in the drive-thru on the way to work because “fuck it, I’ll work out later this week” and she hurried to her desk by 9:01, but it’s okay because their boss was in the bathroom. Roberta opens up her bacon, egg and chee like it’s a very-depressing Christmas morning and just as she’s about to take the first bite….RING! “Hey Roberta, there’s a king cobra in a toilet at 934 Winchester Boulevard. Caller says it’s hissing.”

And that’s just one horrible, but very real possibility for the start of an Animal Control Officer’s day. Can you imagine the amount of sad stuff they see? I don’t even want to write about it. In fact, I won’t–Mondays are depressing enough that I don’t need to wade into the animal cruelty-waters. Just know that it’s someone’s JOB to look at a dog fighting ring up-close and get the dogs out of there, but you know there are times when they got there too late and….JESUS CHRIST, STOP IT JIMMY!

In Chicago, the city started this program a few years ago where they released wild coyotes into the city to help with the rat problem. THAT WAS NOT A JOKE. Well now, even though there have been no reported coyote attacks on humans in the past 30 years (but what about the unreported attacks? Hard to call 911 after a coyote bites you in the neck…) I’m sure Animal Control Chicago gets inundated with calls about coyotes. I know I’ve seen a coyote from inside my apartment that was running away and was like 2 blocks down when I asked The VP “should I call Animal Control?” It’s about safety! So Animal Control people HAVE to go and check out these coyote calls now on a regular basis, and if you’re an office you’ve got to be thinking “we’re due for a coyote attack; is it going to be me?” Chicago just isn’t going to go FOREVER without one of these coyotes mauling someone, so who’s most likely to break the streak? An animal control officer responding to a call from some nerd 2 blocks away. And spare me any talk about “well, they’re trained for this stuff.” You can’t train to protect yourself from a WILD ANIMAL ATTACK because they are WILD. ANIMALS.

Used Car Salesman:

I just think it would really suck to have to tell people that you’re a “used car salesman” when they ask what you do for a living. It has such brutal connotations. I work in sales, and even that isn’t my favorite thing to say, but when I’m trying to explain my job sometimes I’ll say “I mean, it’s not like I’m a used car salesman.” It’s like if a mouse met another animal and had to be like “yeah, I’m a mouse, but it’s not like I’m a rat.” And the thing with used car salesmen is they’re not ALL the awful stereotype (“god Jimmy, you’re so brave to speak truth to power”-Used Car Salesman Union Leader)

Whenever someone goes to buy a used car, they also think that they’re going to have to negotiate like it’s a hostage situation (“IF YOU INCLUDE THE HEATED SEATS, NO ONE WILL GET HURT!”) Which means that every person a used car salesman meets at work is coming in with an edge; pre-disposed to NOT be friendly. Well isn’t that fun! I know there are used car salesmen who are kinda’ slimy and need to be pushed back on, but there have to ones who are also just like “yeah, I’m just here to pay my bills and get home.” Like, there have to be ones that offer the customer their actual lowest price first…right? Then they just have to sit there and keep telling the customer “I’m not lying, that really is the lowest we can offer you” as the customer gets madder and madder and SO FUCKING MAD, COME ON!!!!

Finally, how about when a used car salesman has to go to his girlfriend’s parents for the first time? You KNOW the dad immediately HATES that his daughter is dating a used car salesman. Even if that first dinner goes well, the Dad will probably say something to his wife like, “yeah, he was nice, but what does that even mean? He is a used car salesman.” They’ll NEVER trust him because of that job title. I’d imagine that most used car salesman are married to daughters of other used car salesman then. If there’s a Farmers Only dating app, shouldn’t there be a Used Car Sales Only one too?

Personal Chef for a Celebrity and their Kids:

This is mostly on account of having to cook for rich kids. I see on the boob tube (cool guy slang for television) that a lot of athletes and celebrities have their own personal chefs. And while I enjoy cooking, I can’t imagine cooking a gourmet meal for a rich kid who UNDOUBTEDLY will not appreciate it the way they should. Whenever I cook a meal that’s a little more complicated than “dump packet contents into hot water,” I basically stare daggers through The VP of Ops until she takes a bite. And if the doesn’t take a bite within the first 14 seconds of me handing her, her plate? I may or may not (but definitely do) yell at her to “take a bite before it gets cold!” She’ll usually take a bite and tell me it’s great, but sometimes she doesn’t do it in a convincing enough way, so I’ll be all pouty like “oh, sorry you don’t like it.”

Now, if that was a 9 year old who never heard the word “no”, you think they’d overwhelm the chef with gratitude? A chef, mind you, who probably went through like 7 years of schooling only to then be hired by a violent French Master Chef whose preferred “teaching” method is burning his sous chefs with the creme brulee blowtorch. After 4 years of dodging Chef Blowtorch and his outbursts, you’d open up your own restaurant in a part of town that was dying to be turned into the next hipster-ville…But, you and your restaurant came about two years too early and you end up closing your dream restaurant 18 months after opening. To avoid bankruptcy, you call back that investor guy who told you he “had something for you.” And, that “something” was a job cooking for some Jay Cutler Wannabe (aka an asshole athlete) and his shitty kids.

Next think you know, you’re spending 8 hours making pasta by hand for your most popular burrata lasagna. The celeb kids are running around and yelling about why it’s taking so long and probably snacking on pop tarts. When you’re finally finished, they look at it and say it looks “gross” and they’d prefer pizza. And where are the parents? DOESN’T MATTER CUZ THEY DON’T CARE ANYWAY! So you try to sneak the uneaten gourmet lasagna out to your car when you leave that night, but the cousin who lives there for free catches you and reminds you that the lasagna is now “property of this house”…so you have to turn around and put it back into the Cutler’s fridge, where it will sit uneaten until you throw it out in 4 days.

MY WORLD:

I can’t believe I haven’t done this yet, but I have to put together a candy list. I went on a big candy kick this weekend that my pants DID NOT APPRECIATE this morning. I’m including chocolate and sweet and salty. Here’s the jimmyschair Top 10 Candy List. Disagreements are discouraged…SO SAVE ‘EM!

10-Crunch Bar

9-Chocolate Covered Almonds

8-Twix

7-Kit Kat

6-Gummy Fruit Slices

5-Gummy Bears

4-Crispy M&Ms

3-York Peppermint Patties

2-Peanut M&Ms

1-Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups

*I will say the Top 3 rotate depending on mood and right now, Lil Jimmy loves some peanut butter and chocolate.

LETS LIKE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

Make fun all you want, but Death Cab is my fave band and I feel myself gearing up for a BIG Death Cab kick starting with this….NOW!

LETS HATE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

Getting your haircut for the first time in 5 months and having the hair washer lady mail in the scalp massage you’d been looking forward to.

MY BOVADA PICK OF THE DAY THAT I AM GENUINELY CONFIDENT IN BECAUSE I DESERVE GOOD THINGS TO HAPPEN TO ME AFTER GETTING REAR-ENDED BY A GUY WITHOUT A LICENSE:

Let’s bang that OKC Moneyline (+175) together because we’re all friends and betting against an angry Russ Westbrook seems MUCHO STUPIDO!

(My account currently at $192.22)

K bye.