A chip off the olé otle
Output from a Culinary Institute of America graduate.
I received a $25 gift card to Chipotle Mexican Grill for a birthday gift. Now I don’t know Chipotle from a hole in the ground but, ostensibly, it still seemed like a reasonable gift. I knew it was a chain restaurant of some sort so I figured I’d get a meal of out the deal.
At the time we’d been in the big city for six months. I had never seen a Chipotle. Luckily, a check of the internet maps revealed there were nine to choose from within a 10-mile radius. We chose the closest and embarked on a big city adventure.
The adventure really took off in the parking lot. It was tinier than a postage stamp’s sphincter and, wisely, allowed cars to enter from both directions at the same time. So I was in a really good mood by the time we entered the eatery. (I will deliberately eschew the word “restaurant” for the remainder of this review.)
Although we waited for a space, a car pulled in and assumed it was theirs, not knowing that we had waited six hours. It was an honest mistake but the angry look on the dude’s face did make for awkward times a few minutes later when they stood six inches behind us in the line.
That brings me to the next feature of this diner: The Line. We walked into the place and the most prominent feature, the thing that really captured your attention was the humans in a queue. I looked at my wife. She looked at me. We shrugged and said the same thing. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”
All in all not a bad first experience.
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Roll them Scrapples
My day job is negativist. In my spare time I try to earn some scrillas for survival. After that, the bulk of the remainder of my time is spent philosophizing and inventing. And pondering the ways of love. And packing lots and lots of boxes.
What I’m saying is I invented a new gambling game and I’m giving it to the world for free. In that way I’m just like the fellow that found the cure to polio and didn’t try to exploit it for big bucks.
Yeah, we need more gambling, so I hope this catches on.
Like most of my inventions, necessity turned out to be one fantastic mother. And, like most of our most harrowing tales, it all started one Christmas not too many years ago…
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The Tom B. Taker Cook Book
The Pioneer Woman Blog and Shouts From The Abyss are the same. Both are blogs. She posts pictures. I post pictures. She posts stories. I post stories. She posts recipes. I post recipes.
See? Exactly the same.
“But hey, Tom! She has readers.”
Well played, voice in my head. Well played. I can’t wait to get my hands on you. You are gonna die.
I’ve posted recipes in the past. I won’t bother linking them, though. I don’t remember what they were and besides, copy and paste is too much damn work. And I’m tired from writing an entire cook book.
Sometimes my wife cooks. Sometimes I cook. And that gave me an idea. I should lock my knowledge away in a tome.
Viola! Knowledge is served.
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Shouts from the Abyss 
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