Showing posts with label Stephanie. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Stephanie. Show all posts

Doug Eats: Deluxe Grass Jelly Dessert - What is that which is not solid and not liquid but gives gas?

Last week, the team planned a fun lunch at the local Chinese all you can eat. Sadly, Ann got a fever and I could not join in the fun. Lucky for me, Jenn and Stephanie stopped next door at the Chinese grocery and picked me up some food for me to try out. Seeing as Erik is still dead from the Erik Eats a few months ago, it was my turn to step up.
Stephanie and Jenn with gifts of food.

Today on Erik Eats Doug Eats... Deluxe Grass Jelly Dessert

I'm not sure what it says on the can, but I assume that it explains how physics and gravity are both suspended within the confines of the can.

The top of the can has a lid with a folded up spoon on the inside. F'ing cool!
Transformers! More than meets the eye!
Bourarachutchchingcunchingchun!! (That is the transforming noise.)

Jen tests the spoon to see if it works and to remove any germs with her anti-bacterial saliva.

The top of the can has instructions on how to open it.

I follow them very carefully and mind my hand in the process.

Wait... my teeth are pretty grimy. I'm going to head to my dentist's office and get them cleaned and whitened. I'll be right back.
Much better!

Here is what opening the can reveals:

Holy shit! This looks like a collection of every gall stone removed in June of 1972.

We dump some of this on a plate to get a better look at the components.

We separate into the four food groups: ass, gunk, brown gel and goo

Instead of throwing this into the trash and running like a little girl down the hall and into the bathroom, I try it.
I love Stephanie's reaction in this one.


Wow. It is very hard to pallet the combination of solids and gels. There is a slight sweet taste, but only a man who eats sand for lunch could call this dessert.

Doug says...

I have to call this stuff a choking hazard.


Upon hearing my statement that the Deluxe Grass Jelly Dessert is a choking hazard, Erik wants to do a scientific study. He uses a tool of the trade, a choking detector.
This Safety 1st device lets the user know if something is a choking hazard. If the item fits in the device, it is a choking hazard. Erik fills it with this faux Newtonian Fluid.

Down the hatch!

Well. Not a choking hazard, but it does work as a great substitute for syrup of ipecac.

Next Week: Seven Days of Erik Eats!!

Skully’s Sign Language

Skully’s is a very loud place and communication can be difficult. Yelling, “You are smoking hot!” to a chick can be easily misinterpreted as, “I have dog shit on my foot!”

To avoid confusion, we have developed a series of hand gestures to help you communicate during your time of need.

I can drink a lot more
A very common question at Skully's is, "You want another drink?" This is non-verbally communicated through one of several common gestures. The answer, though, should not be passed off with a simple "yes" head bob. Instead, try the following:

Hands to the sides and say, “I can drink…….”

(Pause for effect) Raise them above your head, “A LOT MORE!”

Back off Bitch!
Sometimes a woman cannot control herself and will attack you bodily on the dance floor. If she cannot hear you yell at her to back the fuck off, whip off your belt and give her this non-verbal signal to the head.

Punch to the Bald Head

Are you sick and tired of bald guys getting all the hot chicks? What I really hate is when two of them show up to the bar and exponentially scoop up all the hotties. When you finally grow weary of this, pop the following hand gesture on the hairless bastards to break things up.

I'm Married
Skully's is a dangerous place for a married man. Young, hot chicks can smell a keeper and they will thrust themselves upon you. When you find yourself in this situation below:

Pull back and point at the ring:

You might break the youngin's heart, but it's best to get it over quickly.

You might have to repeat this often throughout the night in different situations.

Two Many Witnesses
Sometimes you will meet a hot chick that wants to ride you around the dance floor like an 120v electric bull on 220v. Sadly, many of the friends you came to Skully's with would disapprove of your contact with said young lady. To share your disappointment with a colleague who understands your predicament, use the following series of hang gestures




Chicks I've Banged Tonight
Sometimes it's OK to brag. Hold up those fingers and let the people know how many worlds you've rocked that night.

Marry Me
At Skully's, anything can happy. Love flows like melting records at a World Harvest Church Music Burning. If the moment is right and the love in your heart cannot be contained, buy a $5 rose from the guy with the bucket of $1 roses, drop to one knee and profess your silent love.

I am the Happiest Man in the World Right Now

Hard to arrange. Difficult not to get beat by your wife once she sees it. Worth every second.

Mat Shot

There were several occasions when Stephanie, The Witch* and I got into trouble in Denver.

*The Witch has a name and it is Melissa. She really doesn’t appreciate me calling her The Witch. So from now on, I will use her real name because I am a nice guy.

There were several occasions when Stephanie, Melissa** and I got into trouble in Denver.

**I like The Witch better.

There were several occasions when Stephanie, The Witch and I got into trouble in Denver. None of us had any money and so we did cheap things like break into the Denver Botanic Gardens at night or play this game where I would take a shower and they would break into my apartment and scare the shit out of me. They will want you to know that I squeal like a little girl when startled.

It was May 13th, 1995, which is forever ago. Steph , The Witch and I were slumming from bar to bar in the LoDo. I think we ate dinner earlier and none of us were heavy with cash. We found our way to a newer bar called The Firehouse. We saddled up to the bar and the ladies anted some charm to get free drinks.

The bartender’s name was John. John Romero***.

***No. Not the Doom creator and video game visionary John Romero. This John Romero had very similar looks as Mr. Romero, but lacked a good bit of the pink stuff in his skull. It was as if God made two John Romero’s and only had time to make one whole brain before lunch break. Read on.

John served us our first round of beers. He seemed like a nice enough guy. Good looks. Somewhat charming. At one point he took my house keys off the bar, removed some random bottle opener key ring I’d picked up at another bar and replaced it with a newer, promotional one that the Firehouse was giving out. “There you go pal.” He tossed my old bottle opener into the trash. I faked a look of panic and said that was a gift from my dad. He went headfirst into the trash and retrieved my opener. My hero.

Into our second round, the girls and I realized that our drinking would be ceasing very soon as our funds were about gone. The girls poured on the charm and pried at John’s resolve to continue charging us for our drinks.

He gave in, kind of. John said that he would buy our drinks for the rest of the night if one of the girls would do a Mat Shot out of a dirty ashtray. Mat Shot? Sounds like a 2nd string quarterback’s name. We all looked each other and then asked John what a Mat Shot was. He pulled out the black, rubber mat that snuggled up in the narrow crevice on the back of a bar where the bartenders poured their drinks. Bartenders don’t give a shit and are sloppy. Splashed liquids are trapped in the bottom of the mat while the rubber fingers keep the glass bottom mostly dry. The liquids collect and are periodically dumped down the drain. Or into a shot glass, which is a standard Mat Shot. Or into an ash tray, which is what he did next.

There weren’t any butts in the ashtray, but it was full of residual ash. Now it was filled with residual ash and 23 different kinds of liquor. He pushed the ash tray in front of The Witch. She contemplated it for a minute. No drinks or free drinks? Mouth that tastes like mouth or mouth that tastes like ass? She said no. Steph didn’t even have to think about it and said no.

You can see where this is going.

Fortunately, the free beers for the rest of the night washed the ass out of my mouth. My journal says we got hammered. I can believe it. By the end of the night, we were mostly blotto and John ended up with one of the girl’s phone numbers.

Three months later we were lobbing smoke bombs into his front door and catching his couch on fire. It was doomed from the start.


It wasn't that John was dumb. He just sometimes did and said things that weren't entirely that smart. He had enough gray matter to get through life, but his thought process was a little like watching a top spinning on gravel.

John used to create fireballs by spitting lighter fluid out of his mouth and igniting it. It was quite a sight and the intense heat helped to keep his Cro-Magnon eyebrows down to a manageable length. That night he did it at the Firehouse and almost caught some fabric banners on fire. He and Steph went to a Pearl Jam concert at Red Rocks and he got kicked out after exposing several people in the second and third row to hot, drippy fire. (I think I will be able to track down the video… stay tuned.)

Speaking of Pearl Jam… at the time, Pearl Jam had just come out with their Vs album. 99.99% of the world called it “versus.” John called it “V”-“S”. I believe he called their previous album “T”-“E”-“N.”