Dear Guru: Mustard Sally
I’m withholding my otherwise witty comment.
Q.
Why do we put mustard on hot dogs?
—#Kzinti #from #Twitter
A.
I’ll be happy to answer that perceptive question. But first I feel the urge to sing.
Mustard Sally, think you better slow your mustard down.
Mustard Sally, think you better slow your mustard down.
You been running all over my hot dog.
Oh! I guess we’ll have to have your mustard on the ground.
Yo, cat! Sup? I have to say thanks for the question. I relish this opportunity. I shall endeavor to layer my response. Yep. Like an ogre. Ogres have layers. Onions have layers.
Continue reading →
Canned Math
SWIM (Someone Who Isn’t Me) is at it again. In this case, SWIM is a person (or persons) alleged to have perpetrated the dastardly deed of opening a beverage container and heretofore not consuming the entirety of the liquid contents contained therein.
Furthermore, it is alleged that these deeds were committed in the unfriendly confines of the Abyss Castle and at great expense to your Guru.
It goes a little something like this:
- SWIM proclaims, “I’m so thirsty!”
- SWIM takes one of your precious cans of 12-ounce beverage. Likely a soda but it may also be a beer.
- SWIM heartily quaffs some of the precious nectar of the gods.
- SWIM sets the can down and aimlessly wanders away leaving a percentage of contents adrift in the oceans of time.
As you might be able to tell by the level of drama and hyperbole, this all pains me so deeply.
Perhaps, you think, why not just pick up the can (yuck!) and take it to SWIM and request the task to be completed? I’ve tried this, and I’m usually subjected to some rendition of “the contents at the bottom don’t taste as good as those on top.”
Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t realize this was the first layered can of beverage in the universe! My bad.
Maybe they think they’re doing me a favor. Those partially filled cans are quite decorative strewn about the house.
Rather than debate such twisted logic, I grabbed my trusty calculator and decided to wow SWIM with some facts.
Assumption: A six-pack of [insert deadly sugary soda of your choice here] costs about $3.00. Even without my calculator I reckon that’s about 50 cents a can.
Math time!
Q. If someone drinks one ounce of a 12-ounce can, how much did that cost?
A. Assuming $3.00 for a six pack, it works out to cost four cents per ounce. But, if only one ounce was consumed and the can costs 50 cents, then that’s the same as paying 50 cents per ounce. And since the can has 12 ounces, that simple act of unthirstiness creates a $6.00 can of soda.
That’s $6 per can!
I’m sorry, SWIM, but I’d never spend that much on a can of soda for a non-drinker like you.
Scream Within A Dream
Dimly I slowly become aware that I’m no longer asleep. When did that happen? I’m not really sure. My eyes become imperceptible slits just enough to perceive a bit of the world external to my body. That level of activity in my eyeballs takes an amazing amount of effort. Holy shit it’s dark. I suddenly realize I am curious. The burning question in my mind is obvious: What time is it? I pierce through an entirely new level of consciousness and become aware my body is in the wrong position if I ever hope to see the clock. What an incredible perception on my part. Some time later I realize this means I’m going to have to physically move if I’m ever going to obtain an answer to my question. Continue reading →
Shouts from the Abyss 
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