What Christmas Means To Me 9:44 AM

Gloomy weather and 4:30 p.m. sunsets aside, I love the November/December months. I also love the music that comes with the changing season—specifically the album Snowed In by the pop trio Hanson. Without a doubt it is one of the best, if not the best, Christmas albums in music history. I used to spend endless nights in my bedroom humming along to the somber "Silent Night Medley" and snapping my fingers to the up-tempo "Merry Christmas Baby." The entire CD is musical magic.

Consider this link a gift from me to you: “What Christmas Means To Me” by Hanson, circa 1997

run with bugs and toads 2:29 PM

I’m running in Hood to Coast in T-minus 23 days. I wouldn’t go as far to say I’m not prepared, but I’m going to say it anyway: I’m not prepared.

Hood to Coast is a 197 mile relay race―actually the longest relay in the world. I’ve been “training” for the last month or so, but my training of late has been happening in the hellishly humid city of Ashland, Nebraska. Due to my inability to function in said hellish humidity, my activity level has been less than desirable―often involving beer drinking and Food Network watching. I’m still running a little bit though. Every night at 9p I make my way over to the Ashland-Greenwood High School track, run a few laps, rip off my shirt, and then run a few more laps while copious amounts of insects feast on my blood. Did I mention that the state of Nebraska seems to be infested with every insect species on the planet? Nebraska also has a lot of toads that my dog likes to put in his mouth.

Here’s a trailer for a soon-to-be-released documentary on Hood to Coast.

Writer Man. 12:18 PM

As many of you know, I enjoy writing a strongly-worded letter. Whether it’s a letter of gratitude or complaint, I get an abnormal amount of satisfaction from putting my thoughts down on paper and sending that paper to an unknown name.

Recently I wrote a strongly worded letter to a local auto shop (via YELP). In said letter I complained about the “obscene labor costs” and nearly $800 bill that resulted from my car visit. As a young man who knows little about cars (I know how to start them), I paid the price and drove away. I didn’t realize how obscene the charges were until my dad told me “Mike, these charges are really obscene.” Out of frustration, I took the passive aggressive route (i.e. I took to the internet) and wrote a bad review for the company. One week later, I got an apologetic e-mail from the owner of the shop and was reimbursed for 50% of the labor costs - $224.

I guess that’s all I have to say.



(Important note: the woman in this photo is not me. The mustang also doesn’t belong to me. I’m a man and my mustang is black. I'm also really pasty, and this woman is not. The photo is from www.allfordmustangs.com).

mouth pleasure 12:50 PM

I’m in love . . . . with Quorn faux chicken nuggets. I’ve had my fair share of meatless chicken nuggets, but nothing comes close to the pleasure these little treasures bring my mouth. They’re made with mycoprotein, which comes from a fungus. Unlike other meatless chicken nuggets on the market, Quorn products contain no soy, which means men can eat them without the fear of growing….umm…female-like breasts (seriously, read this article).



My love for the Quorn family of products led me to write the company an e-mail showing my appreciation. In return, I got an envelope filled with coupons. Not just any coupons, $1 off coupons.

Got human milk (cheese)? 3:27 PM

Humans are the only species that drink milk beyond infancy. We don’t continue drinking breast milk though – we actually prefer the milk of an entirely different species (* note: we’re the only species to drink milk of another species*). I’m curious when the first encounter with milk outside the human breast occurred. Who made the first mouth to animal udder contact? Who first gave those fleshy, dangling mammary glands a tug? I’m also curious why we haven’t expanded our milk intake to more animals: dogs, horses, pigs, etc. All these questions = so few answers.



I began pondering milk this morning when I read a post about breast milk on the eco-savy blog TreeHugger.The post was about a New York City chef who was reprimanded for offering cheese made from his spouse’s breast milk. Apparently the Department of Health isn’t open to the idea: “cheese made from breast milk is not for public consumption, whether sold or given away. While breast milk is healthy, we recommend it for infants, and any experiments with it as a food ingredient are best left for the home." As many know, I have no interest in the female breast – including its milk – but I think it’s pretty ironic that we no longer consume the nutritious liquid. What makes taking milk from another animal more acceptable than drinking the milk of our own?

Regardless of my questions, I have no plans to consume breast milk or its cheese. I suppose you could say popular disapproval has shaped my decision. However, for any of you lactating mothers, or individuals with milk producing friends/spouses, here’s the recipe:

2 cups human breast milk
2 cups milk of another animal (to encourage curdling)
1 ½ teaspoon yogurt
1/8 tablet rennet
1 teaspoon sea salt such as Baline

Check out Daniel Angerer’s blog (the Chef behind the breast milk cheese) for his take on his mommy’s milk cheese.

footlong 3:07 PM

I feel like the award for the catchiest jingle of all time should go to Subway for its “five dollar footlong” musical number. Upon viewing the commercial multiple times, I’ve found myself humming and even dreaming about said five dollar footlong. I even broke out the hand movements the other night while under the influence of alcohol.

On an aside, I used to be a sandwich artist. Yes, you read that right. At the tender age of 16 I was making a whopping $6.00 an hour creating Subway sandwich creations of all types.

my package 11:40 AM

I love my grandma. She’s kind of my hero. She sent me a package today. Actually, the post office sent me a slip saying they were holding my package until I paid a $15 shipping fee. Apparently grandma mailed it wrong.

My grandparents are infamous for filling gift boxes with items found around their house. Coffee mugs, quilts, pens, books, bowls, hats - you name it - I’ve received it. One of my favorite packages contained decorative plates and display hooks for my new apartment. No matter the uselessness of the items, I always get excited when they send me a package.

Today’s box was no disappointment. It contained a Christmas blanket, some pens, a coffee mug with a black lab graphic that read “spoiled rotten,” and a black lab statue. It made my day. Everything in that box reminds me of my grandma. I love it all.



My grandma used to tell me a story about a rabbit. When she told the story she would take her tea bag out of her cup and hide it in her hand. As she was telling the story she would use her fingers to mimic the rabbit jumping, eventually jumping from the table onto me. Without warning, she would squeeze the tea bag into the palm of my hand. I don’t remember the story in its entirety, but I do remember it ended with the rabbit urinating on my hand.

This is why I love my grandma.