My love of leftovers

Hello old friends,

You may have wondered where I've been for the last few years. Let me explain...

It was around midnight, which as you all know is just a fancy word for 4th-meal-time. I went stumbling down the stairs to make a mad dash for the nearest T-Bell. Normally I'm like a ninja in my house, dodging empty food wrappers and computer parts left and right. In my haste to obtain sustenance (it had been an hour since my last taco), I forgot about that damn chorizo grease on the bottom stair. You know how the rest goes: I slip on the stair, slide into an entertianment center, get trapped underneath, and spend the next few years surviving on half-eaten burritos strewn around that part of my living room.

My faithful readers may be raising an eyebrow at this point. "Half-eaten?" you say. "That term has never entered your vocabulary."

Wrong you are, young Padawan. Of the many Jedi life lessons I have bestown on you, let me share one of my most closely guarded ones. Now, I can only show you the door on this one. You're the one that has to walk through it.

Why order just one burrito when you can have two?

As it happens, Fili-B's is more than happy to wrap a second burrito for you to go. After you swallow the first burrito whole, you can use the second as a drive-home snack. Sometimes you finish the whole thing. Other times you leave it partially completed for later consumption. This is the magic of the second burrito.

- Lien

Been a while

Howdy folks,

Sorry I haven't written in a while. My buddy convinced me a while back to join a local kickball league, and somehow I got suckered into participating as one of the head refs. Stupid hot league reps! Why are they so sneaky, with their totally obvious wedding rings that I don't notice until I've already agreed to something I don't really want to do?

Fear not, though. The Lienator will be back in action before you know it. I ref'd one week and decided it's WAY too much commitment. It reminds me of the feeling I get in the pit of my stomach when I feel hungry enough to order two machaca & egg burritos, and instantly know I've signed up for more than I should have (Maricopa County Hospital be damned; I'll eat what I want!) Besides, I think I've been demoted from head ref to a much less demanding position. No one's told me what it is yet, but who wants to bet it's Ball Boy? Lefty will be proud I'm living up to his namesake.

Cheers,
Lien

Still an overwhelming response

Well, the responses to my original post just keep rolling in. It's reached a point where I can't even remember all of the chicks' names, if they even have names. I've come to just refer to them by their profession or hobby. There's Bartender Chick, Motocross Chick, Hiker Chick, Accountant Chick...

The one problem is that eventually my buddies are going to meet one of these chicks, and when I introduce her by her real name, I'm just going to get blank stares until someone goes "Oh... do you mean Slutty Chick?" I'm not sure what I'll do about that. Wait, what am I talking about? If I'm dating Slutty Chick what will I ever have to worry about??

Cheers,
Lien

My house is dirty

My ex-girlfriend used to always want to come clean my house, and I'd get mad at her and tell her to stay out of my barrio. Since we broke up I've been noticing that the house is getting dirtier and dirtier, and I can't figure out why. The paper food wrappers are piling up, the empty salsa containers are everywhere, and my bedroom smells oddly like machaca. I'm beginning to wonder if I should have just let her clean.

A temporary reconciliation may be in order. What would you call that? It's not really a booty call... the term "milk maid" keeps coming to mind. Maybe I should refer to her as my burrito maid.

Cheers,
Lien

An observation on dieting

Today I decided to take a break from the drive-thru mexican havens I like to call home, and I noticed something really interesting. I weighed myself at 6:30 in the morning, after a long night of compacting my bowel with 11 beers, 6 tacos, and 2 Chipotle burritos. Then I went the whole day without any water or food, taking only 16 Claritin-Ds for energy. Weighing myself again this evening, I found that I'm down 135 lbs. My buddy assures me that weight fluctuation from varying levels of water saturation in the body is normal, but I'm pretty sure I've found a wormhole to another universe that starts in my gonad.

Dieters of the world: Forget about the silly 3500 calories in a pound of fat mumbo-jumbo. Stop wasting your money on Weight Watchers, Jenny Craig, or gym memberships. The answer is in Claritin-D and believing! I know most of you won't trust me on this, but I know there are one or two of you that (in the great words of Morpheus) are beginning to believe.

Cheers,
Lien

Favorite words, part II

Today's words have a theme; namely, they're all taken from Hiro Nakamura from Heroes. Oh how I wish I could be more like him. Once again, I invite you to test out how many of these phrases I use in a single conversation.

Frying man! Whoooosh!
Great Scott-o!
Yatta!
Waffles, woohoo!
Can you give me ride-o? Boop boop.

Cheers,
Lien

I hate situps

For the last few months, every time I go to the gym and do situps, I end up in excruciating pain. This isn't like the kind of pain you get when the late-night cook at Los Betos forgets that eggshells don't go in the burrito along with the egg but you decide to eat it anyway; we're talking real pain here. It usually hits after about the 11th situp or so. I'll be minding my own business, pretending to be heavily focused on my workout but really trying to subtly check out the hot chick stretching next to me (it really sucks when she's behind me, because there's no way to be subtle about turning your head 180 degrees in the middle of a situp).

Anyway, I'll get to that 11th situp or so, and I'll feel a pinch. I'll try to do one or two more, then pause, and then it comes full force. At this point I generally fall off of my exercise ball onto the floor, clutching Lefty, and lie in the fetal position for 30 seconds or so. My buddy assures me that it's not normal and that I should see a doctor, but I think I'm just feeling the burn.

Just thought I'd share. Off to lunch #2 at Rubio's! (It's someone's birthday at work so I'm going a little fancier than usual.)

Cheers,
Lien