The alarm goes of at a time when some are just getting to bed.
Maybe not most people. But, "some."
Lindsey Lohan or Justin Beiber may be "some people."
Pop a K-Cup™ into the coffee maker and a couple of Pop Tarts™ into the toaster.
"Shit, shower and shave," as they say.
(Whoever "they" are.)
Now I'm exaggerating.
My heart still pounding and nerves jangling from the rude rousting by the alarm clock, I'm far to clenched to shit. And, at this hour, dragging a sharp instrument across my neck seems like a bad idea. Even if, or maybe because, Hamlet's quandary is running through my head.
"To be, or not to be..."
So, shower.
Dress.
Collect up coffee and junk food breakfast.
Kiss Mrs. Blog "goodbye,"
A long, freeway drive, in the dark, to a distant location.
Start working as the sun begins to rise.
12, 14, 18 hours later...
Make the long, freeway drive, in the dark, back home.
Sleep for four hours, then do it again.
The PC thought he was done with that "glamorous" show business lifestyle when he moved from the world of feature film and episodic television into the civilized world of daytime TV.
But, every now and then, like yesterday and today, I have to return to that life.
I'm not as young as I used to be.
And I am beat.
So tonight, just one short story, if only to purge it from the front of my consciousness.
When I was just a little bloggling, my tastes in food were very narrow.
Nothing more exotic than mustard and ketchup on burgers, hot dogs and bologna sandwiches.
In my adulthood, as a world traveller, I made up for lost time by becoming adventurous in my culinary experimentation.
Because, as the saying goes...
"When in Sweden, try the reindeer."
Over the years, the weirder the food, the more likely I would take eating it as a personal dare.
Garlic, Raspberry Cheesecake? Also, in Sweden. Check.
Alligator in South Florida? Check.
Conch in the Caribbean? Check.
Whale steak in Iceland? Check. (When prepared right, delicious. When not prepared right, not so much.)
Mystery meat from a grill in a suspiciously stray feline free alley in Moscow? Check.
Even when I settled down at home and started working on a TV show that, occasionally, featured strange foods, I was game to try it.
Breast milk ice cream? Check.
Chocolate covered crickets and roasted cricket salsa? Check and check.
A steaming hot cup of Kopi Luwak? Yep.
Gluten free desserts? Yuck!
You get the idea.
Which brings me to today.
On the craft service table, amid the usual assortment of crap and token healthy stuff....
The newest flavor of Lays™ Potato Chips...
Now, The Blog loves him some soul food.
Fried Chicken, collard greens, sweet potatoes, bean pie, washed down with "red" Kool-Aid™.
Yum!
But, I have never understood the popularity of chicken and waffles. And even though there are many places in Los Angeles to dine on this odd combination, I have never been tempted to try it.
But, there it was on the CS table. Daring me.
"Double Dog Daring me."
So, I tore open the bag and popped a chip into my mouth.
My taste buds were flooded with flavors.
Potato and salt, of course. Herbs and spices. (Not The Colonels patented 7, but a few of them.) A hint of maple syrup. Some sweetness like a waffle...
And the distinctive flavor of chicken.
Congrats, Lay's™! You nailed it!
But, for all of the adventurous flavors that The Blog's taste buds have encountered...
Some, surprisingly delicious...
Some, meh...
Some, pretty bad...
This was the first time The PC ever reacted to a flavor with...
WHAT THE FUCK??????!!!!!!!!!!!
The Blog predicts that Lay's™ Chicken and Waffles Chips will soon go the way of Ben & Jerry's Schweddy Balls Ice Cream.
Back to a normal work schedule tomorrow. And, hopefully a normal blogging schedule, as well.
Good night, all.
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