I realized that I’ve actually never engaged in the actual pursuit of a woman. My last girlfriend was pre-arranged. My best friend was dating her best friend. They eliminated all the normal guesswork that is usually involved with the initial “let’s get to know each other before we have sex” ritual. We were briefed with the same information about each other: recently single, intelligent, funny, disease and drug free, and looking to break our six-month bout of celibacy. Essentially, we were handed to each other on platters. There was no “hunt”. My friends knew what our particular tastes were and took the liberty to order the food and deliver it to our door. Take-outs are convenient, but there is something to be said about catching and preparing your own food.

Before her, I was pressed to go on a blind date by a stranger who had seen me perform and thought her roommate would be perfect for me. She described her as tall, beautiful, artistic, and athletic. Fortunately, she was very attractive and we seemed compatible on certain levels but that was purely coincidental. It felt analogous to a random person coming up to you and assessing your epicurean needs by their intuition alone. How would you feel if someone was talking to you and felt they had enough information about you to invite you to dinner but neglected to tell you what was going to be served. They only described it as delicious. Which is fine, but certain things have to be taken into consideration. Prior to dinner, you should know about food allergies, vegetarianism, lactose intolerance, kosher… etc. All this could have been discovered in the normal “hunting” process. In a blind date, the food is served in a sealed platter like a secret prize on Let’s Make a Deal from Monty Hall. You don’t know what you are going to eat until you uncover the lid.

I’m afraid if I keep getting use to people bringing food to me, I won’t know how to catch my own food. I’ll keep getting older and my taste will diminish. Now I will only eat carefully prepared meal, soon it will be meals-ready-to-eat, then canned foods, and when I reach forty I’ll settle for beef jerky.

The “hunt” is important. I just have to decide want I want to “hunt”. Some people like to go deep-sea fishing. Others enjoy big game. Personally, I like unicorns. They’re not easy to catch but if you do the pay-off is delightful. You haven’t lived until you have eaten unicorn tenderloin. Bon Apetit!

Mah nishtanah ha-lahylah ha-zeh mi-kol ha-layloht, mi-kol ha-layloht?

1.)
She-b’khol ha-layloht anu okhlin chameytz u-matzah, chameytz u-matzah. Ha-lahylah ha-zeh, ha-lahylah ha-zeh, kooloh matzah?

2.)
She-b’khol ha-layloht anu okhlin sh’ar y’rakot, sh’ar y’rakot. Ha-lahylah ha-zeh, ha-lahylah ha-zeh, maror?

3.)
She-b’khol ha-layloht ayn anu mat’bilin afilu pa’am echat, afilu pa’am echat. Ha-lahylah ha-zeh, ha-lahylah ha-zeh, sh’tay p’amim?

4.)
She-b’khol ha-layloht anu okhlin bayn yosh’bin u’vayn m’soobin, bayn yosh’bin u’vayn m’soobin. Ha-lahylah ha-zeh, ha-lahylah ha-zeh, koolanu m’soobin?

Why is this night different from all other nights?

1.)
Why is it that on all other nights during the year we eat either bread or matzoh, but on this night we eat only matzoh?

2.)
Why is it that on all other nights we eat all kinds of herbs, but on this night we eat only bitter herbs?

3.)
Why is it that on all other nights we do not dip our herbs even once, but on this night we dip them twice?

4.)
Why is it that on all other nights we eat either sitting or reclining, but on this night we eat in a reclining position?

Why do we do this?

1.)
What time is dinner?

2.)
What are we having for dinner?

3.)
What are we having for dessert?

4.)
Who’s cleaning up?

What would Jesus do at a Seder?

1.)
Are Elijah and Miriam Easter bunnies?

2.)
Why do I get laughed at when I tell people what I believe in?

3.)
Why are a growing number of indecisive Jews for Jesus becoming transvestites?

4.)
Who are we kidding?

Why do Jews act crazy this time of year?

1.)
Why the hell are they afraid of bread?

2.)
Why do they get so many days off?

3.)
Why aren’t there laws to arrest them for using Christian blood in their satanic rituals?

4.)
Why are there so many Jews?

I played basketball today and realized I was extremely hungry. I dipped into Gourmet Garage to buy something to eat. I didn’t know what I wanted, so I roamed aimlessly around until I found something.

Luckily, The cheese department had five platters of cheese cubes with a cup of toothpicks.

Famished, I plucked out a cube and bit it off the end of the toothpick. I sucked off the lingering smokey flavor that seemed infused into the wood. Still starving, I went to the next tray, then the next, then the next and finally hit the last tray and felt a pang of guilt for eating so much cheese for free. Then out of nowhere, some Botoxed Upper Eastsider bitch felt she needed to teach me some manners.

Another woman pushed her cart directly in between the Upper Eastsider Bitch and me. She was shocked by my expletive statement. I told her the dialogue I had exchanged with the crazy lady. Fortunately, she agreed with me (but I suspect she wanted an easy out of the situation) Then I proceeded to talk to each person and stated my case. Oddly, everyone agreed with me. I realize now that I probably scared everyone I encountered.

The paradox of calling someone a “fucking lunatic” to everyone who walks by because that particular person didn’t like how you ate cheese makes you look like a “fucking lunatic”.

Pillows!



I grew up poor and learned the best way to curb my appetite as a kid was going to bed early. The growling of my stomach was a little annoying at first, but I’d just wrap my head with my pillow and get some sleepy sleep.

What would you rather have?

A bowl of gruel or a nice, comfy, goose-down pillow?

I’d vote for the pillow. Sleeping will cure all the world’s problems.

Everytime I attempt to eat a carrot, I feel like I’m blowing Mr. Burns from The Simpsons.

A booth at Hoboken’s Annual Italian Festival

Here’s an example of corporations knowing that Americans “want” to eat healthy but can’t.

“When I chew on a piece of Dentyne Ice Arctic Chill, I feel like a polar bear crapped in my mouth.”~Danocrates

In today’s media driven world, eating disorders are becoming more and more prevalent. Bulimia…Anorexia…Binge-Eating Disorder. Now there is a new syndrome called Orthorexia: literally, the “fixation on righteous eating”. These are the people who are convinced that eating grinded flax seeds, soy milk, vegetarian-fed eggs with omega-h and an array of bizarre organic products will give them “The Golden Ticket” to The Willy-Wonka Factory in the Sky.
We all live at the hands of Fate. When you were born, Mrs. Fate issued you a ticket, and draws from a lottery. If your number is called…YOU DIE! There is no way around it. But these people suffering from Orthorexia Nervosa truly believe that if they inhale bee testicles from Shir-keika located within the Tibetan Mountains, they will be immune to cancer. Horseshit! That shit of course coming from an all-natural Australian, range-fed horse that was never in a feed lot. That’s good shit!

Heavens to Murgatroid! I knew God would deal out some kind of retribution for legalizing gay marriages. What will we do?

Click here

This “morning” , I ordered my usual breakfast at Hebrew National Deli. Two eggs sunny-side up, home-fried potatoes, whole wheat toast, and a small coffee.

I say “morning” because it was around 11:30AM which technically is before noon but it shouldn’t be considered morning.

When my meal appeared, I was appalled at what I saw.

It was 75% correct.

No home-fried potatoes were available, so they had substituted french fries instead without informing me.

Are they out of their fucking mind?

Who eats french fries with their eggs?!

I only eat cube-shaped potatoes for breakfast,

elongated rectangular prism-shaped potatoes at lunch,

and ellipsoidal-shaped potatoes at dinner.

Cylindrical-shaped potatoes are special because they can be served at lunch OR dinner.

Idiots!

Its extremely important to know what geometric shape you are allowed to eat depending on the position of the Sun.

I was enlightened with the fact, that mangoes belong to the same family as poison ivy, the Sumac family. Certain cultures have made this fruit a staple in their diet. Puerto Rico became one of those countries. In 1750, the mango was introduced to their island and Puerto Rico embraced it. After two and half centuries of consumption, Puerto Ricans have unknowingly developed a natural immunity to poison ivy.

Case in point, my friend Ricardo and I were running through the woods naked. I unfortunately was hospitalized for a burning, eczematous rash and mi amigo Ricardo came out unscathed.

Once I recovered, I had an inspiration and drew out my quill and scribed this poem…

Mangos
Succulent orbs of protective fructose

Poison Ivy
Infectious, secreting leaves of agony

The devious, demonic plant lurking below
Preying on unsuspecting Gringos with their unprotected skin

Behold!
Mira!

My epidermis is laced with Mango Madness.
Defending my body from the venomous juice.

My regal blood is produced by my pumping, pulminary papaya
Immune to the toxic Taliban of torment

Eschuchen, por favor

I love to lay in the grass
You can kiss my Puerto Rican ass

I was driving my buddies back to Queens from Manhattan one night and we passed by KFC and it reminded me of something I read about why Kentucky Fried Chicken changed its name to KFC. I vaugely remembered reading that the Commonwealth of Kentucky was in such a state of financial ruins that it trademarked its name.

One friend, Moody McCarthy, said, “That sounds like a lot of horseshit.”

I agreed with him but stood by the explanation because I knew in my heart that I had read it and it was true. How can a person read something if it were not true? That’s impossible.

Although, I couldn’t remember where I read it. So I scoured the Web and finally found it here at Snopes.com.

See. Why would I lie? Be sure to read the “Additional information:” link.

The milk industry claims its bovine breast beverage fortified with vitamin D, “Does the body good.”

Vitamin D is essential for absorbing calcium which helps our bodies build strong bones and teeth. However, some studies show dairy consumption leads to certain types of cancer. Granted, these specific dairy products come from cows amped up the bovine growth hormone.

Cancer + Chemo = Baldness

The question is how do we obtain vitamin D without consuming cancer-creating-dairy products?

Quite the conundrum.

How about that big ole yellow orb that’s eight light minutes away we call the Sun, silly?

The body produces vitamin D when the sun’s ultraviolet rays strike the skin. I can’t explain exactly what happens chemically, so let’s just call it “solar sorcery”.

But before you become an official vegan, move to a nudist colony and start worshiping Amen-Ra the Sun God, take heed!

Take in too much UV rays (aka…radiation) and you will develop skin cancer. The ozone layer is the Earth’s sunscreen against the UV rays. Some scientists have blamed ozone depletion from cow’s methane emissions created by their belching and flatulence.

Drink too much milk…cancer…sun bath too long…cancer…too many cows…cancer

How are we to keep our hair if we keep getting cancer on our quest for vitamin D?

Like symbol of Ouroboros, the serpent devouring its own tail, I wish I had an answer to this paradox.

I did some research and discovered the entire milk campaign in the 80’s was financed by an eccentric billionaire and wig mogul, J.C. McCloud.

Coincidence? I think not.

My friend Ben is extremely overweight—over 400 pounds. He’s always on some ridiculous diet to shed his excess fat. Right now he’s only eating apples and canned tuna fish.

I told him if he really wanted to reduce his “weight” just wait until the Moon was directly overhead and he would “weigh” less because the gravitational pull of the Moon would be pulling up on his body.

“That’s awesome!”, Ben said then asked, “How much would I weigh then?” I answered, “Oh…about…three hundred and ninety-nine point nine nine eight.”

“Oh—not enough to make a difference,” he gloomily responded as he bit into a over ripened green apple.

“Hey man, just think. In twenty years, I’m sure NASA will have a lunar colony. If you moved there, you would only weigh 67 pounds. You would still be big as fuck, but have the weight of an eight year old.”

“Fuck you!”

My favorite coffee drink is a short Café Americano which is a shot of espresso and hot water.

I was walking into the grocery store and a homeless guy asked me for a dollar. Without giving him eye contact I said, “Sorry, buddy. I wish I had it.” and passertively walked by him.

‘Eggs’ was at the top of my list, so I went back to the dairy section. I noticed a Styrofoam carton of jumbo-sized eggs was priced for only 99¢. What a bargain! Twelve chicken fetuses for under a buck!

That works out to be 8¼ ¢ per chick. What a steal!

The miser in me was drawn to this ‘deal’ as Paris Hilton is to any form of publicity. Then my eyes drifted to an organic brand of eggs encased in a recyclable plastic container. These eggs came from hand-fed, hormone-free, Omega-H enhanced, cage-free chickens.

Self-diagnosed with a mild case of orthorexia nervosa (the fixation on righteous-eating), I immediately decided on purchasing these eggs even though they were quadruple the price. I would gladly pay three dollars more to know that the mother of these chicken fetuses was able to run free and enjoy life. She deserves that. God bless her.

I felt good about myself. I’m a good person. I care about the environment. I care about Gertrude the chicken. I care about my health. I’m awesome.

I finished off my list, paid for the items, and exited the store. The same bum approached me again. He didn’t recognize me and asked me for another dollar. I answered with the same response, “Sorry, buddy. I wish I had it.”

Basically, I’m apathetic towards humans and empathetic towards chickens who forced to give up their children for human consumption or become a Spicy Chicken Sandwich.