This is a poo
Today’s post will be epic. I will talk about things that other food bloggers just aren’t talking about because it’s too gross. Also, I’ll talk about how much of an asshole I am. And show you through a hypothetical example why that is. First thing is first, so let’s get started… Kids, today’s topic is diarrhea. So if you’re squeamish or if you just want something more appetizing to read about, please leave now. I’m serious, it’s gonna start in a couple of sentences so if you don’t want to, just leave. No hard feelings, and normal programming will resume in a couple of days. I’m surprised that it hasn’t been covered more before. You eat a lot of food, and sooner or later it’s going to happen. Maybe you have a stomach of steel or maybe your shit smells like Mother Theresa but I’m douchebag racist Dan! And my poo don’t smell like roses. So yesterday I went and ate/drank from five different places that have been covered by big time NYC food blogs or NYC traditional media. Names of which I won’t mention. Rest assured, if I name them, there’s at least one reputable food blog that would rave about its food, but none of its fast poo inducing properties.
None of the places looked dirty. None of the places was in Chinatown, Flushing, or any other ethnic neighborhood. In fact, in every place, it was basically all pretty good neighborhoods. So right away, this does away with the notion that one only gets sick when eating at dirty establishments. Of course, since I ate at so many different places, it’s difficult to pinpoint where it all went wrong. I also feel like it’s important to note that at no point today was I stuffed with food. It was five different places, and very very manageable portion sizes. So I didn’t get sick from eating too much. Since I can’t name the places, it means I have to delete pics from my current memory card, you get to read stuff like this! Hurray!
That’s the thing about letter grades… could they help restaurants keep your poo solid? You know, you eat something, go home, and pee out of your ass. You’re like, “Well, shit happens.” You may or may not link the liquid poo with the food consumption… but I mean, something musta happened along the way, right? Look, I don’t care for stupid rules where restaurants get docked for reasons unrelated to food preparation and safety. But let’s say letter grades help restaurants shore up where they were lax before… would less people get brown colored Niagra falls coming out of their ass? I’m not sure what the answer is to that. Maybe it wouldn’t have an effect at all. So all this talk about letter grades is just hot air.
The other thing that’s funny is that yea… these five places… I’m telling you, food bloggers that visit them basically only have praise. So is there just something wrong with me? Was it just an off day? Was it just karma coming back to bite my ass because I’m a TERRIBLE tipper? I also have to admit this now, since I’m talking about shit anyway… I’m a terrible tipper. Like, really really bad. Most people who love food tip 20% because they know the restaurant workers don’t make all that much. But today at one of the five establishments, they had one of those “suggested tip for 15% 20% 25%” I pretty much just tip 15%. Here’s what makes me a horrible tipper though. So I bust out the calculator on my phone to see how they do their numbers. It wasn’t much of a surprise but they calculate the tip for you based upon the number plus tax. Essentially your tip then becomes X% of food/drinks + X% of local sales tax. This is pretty asshole of me to not just follow the unspoken rules because honestly what’s the difference at the end? The differences is almost always less than a dollar, so what does it matter anyway? Still, I tip on the food/drinks alone. Damn it Danny!
Lastly, I want to talk about a random hypothetical situation my friends and I were talking about this week. Suppose you’re standing at the side of a busy street. Maybe Houston street here in New York. Some stranger walks up to you and says, “In a minute, a small child will dart into the street, on the path of an oncoming bus. I want to pay you $8 dollars for your to dart into the street, risking your life, to save the small child.” Basically my take on this is this: If it’s your own child or like a relative or a close friend, you’d do everything to save that child. But if it’s a stranger, I’d just wave bye-bye. So the question is this, would you put your own life at risk for $8 dollars? If yes, is it because there’s a small child involved? If no, is it because your life is worth more to you than the life of a stranger/child? Or because $8 dollars isn’t enough? Anyway, all good shit has to come to an end. For the rest of the week, hopefully I can find some other stuff to talk about that I didn’t eat this past weekend. Anyway, if I had a glass, I’d toast everyone and cheers to solid poo!
Posted by Danny on August 2, 2010 at 5:38 pm
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