Megorious

Of the sweatiest cities in America, Baton Rouge ranks ninth, according to a study conducted by Old Spice, of all people. New Orleans ranks twelfth, Austin is twenty-third, and Boston is eightieth. San Francisco is the least sweatiest.

The people of Phoenix, the alleged sweatiest city, produce 26.4 ounces of sweat an hour — the equivalent of more than two cans of soda. An hour. Eww.

This is bullshit. Baton Rouge should be first. I’m sweating just thinking about it. Phoenix is a dry heat. They might get temperatures well above 100 but they don’t have the humidity. Spend the summer in South Louisiana and try not to be moist all day long.

The full list can be found here.

According to Kelcey, and then verified by someone who works there, The Chimes is at the center of a sex discrimination scandal:

Her name is Bridgette. She’s a waitress at the Chimes on Highland. She shaved her head recently because her 6 year old little sister has cancer and lost all of her hair - again. What a sweet and courageous thing to do.

Unfortunately, the general manager at the Chimes told her she would have to cover her head at work. Actually he told her not to return to work until she does. Never mind the waiters that work there who are bald. What a sick, sexist thing to do. He also told her that her T-shirt was not tight enough. She wears a boy’s small. He insisted she should be wearing a “baby-t”?!?! WTF?

If you think this is totally bull, repost this and say so. Write a letter to the newspapers and tv stations. Write to the jackass manager of the Chimes. Boycott the Chimes if you like, but speak out because no girl should be forced to have long hair or any hair for any reason if she chooses. This is 2007, not 1927. Forget that!

When I first came to Emerson in 2004 I read something someone from my Expository Writing class shared with our class (and subsequently posted on Live Journal )called “The Paradox of Our TIme.” He said it was credited to George Carlin. We all took him at his word. It sounded like something George Carlin might write. It was philosophical enough for Carlin but there was just one problem: it wasn’t funny. There was something familiar about it though, as if I had heard it before. I figured I probably caught a George Carlin special on HBO where he delivered it. I didn’t give it much thought

A couple of months later I came across it again, forwarded in an email to me from someone who was new to the privilege of internet. In this email was “The Paradox of Our Time” once again but this time it wasn’t credited to Carlin, it was credited to a Columbine student.

There was one particular quote from “The Paradox of Our Time” that made its way on my away message a while back. Tonight, while flipping through my away message archives I came across it again. I decided to look into it. As it turns out neither a Columbine student nor Carlin wrote “The Paradox of Our Time.” Further online credit has been given to Anonymous. I asked Anonymous, (s)he said s(he) didn’t write it. And Anonymous doesn’t lie.

The real author of “The Paradox of Our Time” Dr. Robert Moorehead, a former pastor of Seattle’s Overlake Christian Church and author of Words Aptly Spoken , a 1995 collection of prayers, homilies, and monologues used in his sermons and radio broadcasts.

In 1999 my little brother Craig and I were at the Christian book store in Baton Rouge. Don’t ask me why. I think we were buying birthday gifts for our mom or something. I held this book in my very hand. This is where I first read what was then called “The Paradox of Our Age.” It was right there all along.

I’m not a Christian but there is something about “The Paradox of Our Time” that speaks truth about America. If you’ve never read it czech it out below:

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A few weeks ago I purchased an electric pepper mill from The Sharper Image. My original reason for buying it was that I thought it would be cool to have an electric pepper mill handy at all times at work, not to mention it’s just cool. Perhaps the dorkiest thing I have ever done?

I found many different prototypes on the net and I settled with the one from sharperimage.com. When it came in I filled it with black pepper and slapped in 4 AA batteries. It’s really neat. It has a light at the bottom, you know incase the power goes out. Now truth be told the appearance of the mill weighed heavily on my purchasing decision. I mean look at it… What does it look like to you? I named it SGT Pepper and brought it down to the CCG.

The first person at CCG to see SGT Pepper was Steve, the prep cook. Steve is a family man who believes highly in his faith. He goes to Bethany South, you know the place with those ridiculous crosses.
STEVE: What is that a dildo?
RHINE: Yes. It’s a dildo. I thought I would bring a dildo to work for a change.
STEVE: Well, that’s what it looks like.
RHINE: Yeah, I know. I…Wait. How do you know what a silver bullet looks like?
STEVE: How do you know it’s called a silver bullet?
RHINE: I’ve seen Lesbian Anal 2

Amazing.

Now a lot can be said by the sexuality of cracking pepper. Titus, aka sexual chocolate (a name Tyler gave him) enjoys watching SGT Pepper at work.

TITUS: (To Mahi Mahi.) Danielle, grab it. Here. Just grab it.
MAHI MAHI: No. I’m not touching that thing.
TITUS: Just grab it.
MAHI MAHI: No.
TITUS: It has fingerprints all over it. Wipe it clean. Slowly.

Now Titus can be dirty, but that is just who he is. Mahi is not the only one either. Lacey and Lindsay were both afraid to GRAB the pepper mill.

TITUS: Lacey, you and Lindsay should fight over this.
LACEY: No.
TITUS: Here, just grab it for me. At the top.

Anytime a table gets a salad we are suppose to offer fresh pepper. We should just have the pepper mill on our person when running the food.

RHINE: Would you care for some fresh pepper?
LADY: Sure.
RHINE: (Pulls out SGT Pepper from his apron.)
LADY 1: What is THAT?
RHINE: It’s our pepper mill.
LADY 2: Oh. Is that what that is?
RHINE: What did you think it was?
LADY 2: I’ve just never seen anything like that before.
LADY 1: I have.

Women reacted fairly amused to the whole idea of fresh pepper. Naturally anytime I offer pepper to a table I think of the SNL skit with Rob Schneider. Freshn de peppea?

Not only do we have a very phallic pepper grinder sitting on top of our server station but we all carry it around the dining room and beyond with no reservations. In fact when running several plates you have no choice but to stick it in your apron. And boy does it stick out. Oh my my my. It can be very intimidating. You ask your table…

RHINE: Fresh pepper?
PATRON: Sure.
RHINE: WHAM!
PATRON: Nom nom nom nom nom…

I really think it scares some people. It is best not to reveal the grinder until you have confirmation from the table that they want pepper. If you just whip it out they might get scared. You know Chilis doesn’t grind pepper out of a stainless steel cock.

Just the other day I saw Joan (pronounced Joe-Anne) carrying the eyesore through the dining room and some other table saw it and they both burst into laughter. Yeah, you just know.

Yeah!