A couple of weeks ago, JR sent me a link to an article about the use of apple cider vinegar as a weight-loss tool. As I am using valuable company time/resources to write this, and not my netbook, I do not have the link to the study. Nutshell: 175 obese Japanese men drank either no vinegar in 500mL, 15mL in 500mL of water, or 30mL in 500mL of water after breakfast and dinner for 12 weeks. Clarification: they drank one cup (250mL) of the mixture twice a day. The selling point for me (and others, I am sure)? Diet was not changed. That's right, folks. The study saw reduction of waist circumference by drinking a vinegar mixture twice a day.
Since JR is all knocked-up, we thought it wouldn't be a good idea to be doing science to her and the parasite, so I volunteered to drink vinegar for science. Today was day one. I'm doing my best to adhere to the study guidelines, but I'm sure there will be slight variations. If I remember, when I get home tonight, I will find the link to the study and include it. I measured my waist circumference this AM, and then drank down my 250mL of vinegar/water after having breakfast. I should say this: I usually don't eat breakfast, so I'm already changing things. I may end up bring the mix to work and downing it after lunch instead. And if you were wondering, vinegar in water isn't the tastiest of libations, but it isn't the worst thing ever. Anyway, 250mL of water is easy enough to chug right down.
Other random info: I am trying yet again for a different position at my work. One thing I may have on my side is that the person doing the interviewing used my as her bitch for a while, and also hand-selected me (like fruit) to fill in as the DE supervisor back when the Princess was out being all insurance fraudulent or whatever. I should have an interview set up by the end of the week. Annoyingly enough, the girl who got the last position I applied for is applying for this one. I may have to hate her if she does it to me again. What? No, I don't think she is just the better person for the job. Pfft. What are you thinking?
That sucker up there was lunch yesterday at the Renaissance Faire, in Lancaster PA. It was delicious. We also watched a human chess match and some bawdy comedy (because that's all they had in Ye Olde Tymes, right?), had random people accost us in the streets, and got heartburn trying this Mount Hope wine. It was unbelieveably harsh. Wooo-eee! Good thing I only had a taste. BB tried the Swashbuckler Red Sea Amber. I tried a taste, but it wasn't really to my liking. The cinnamon almonds, however, yum. Oh, and funnel cake. What? It's a faire.
That's right, folks. It is time for another crap movie review. This time we will be learning about Shark Attack in the Mediterranean, aka Shark Alarm.
This fine example of German cinema takes place in Majorca. You can tell it was a crap movie in German, and the truly pitiful English dub track only makes things that much worse(better).
There is a legend, a revenge arc, a rebellious daughter, and a love story. Oh, and car chases. At one point in the second half of the film, it tries very hard to be a spy caper. Something starring Meg Ryan from the 90s maybe.
Sven is a tour guide type dude, I think. He has a Jeep and a helicopter. We are introduced to him as he is going to fetch our fetching microbiologist from the airport. Can we say "instant chemistry"? She works with sharks and he used to be a professional swimmer, "one of the rough ones". Whatever that means. Sven has a surprising amount of knowledge about sharks because his wife was eaten by one. What? Doesn't everyone immediately become an expert on the terrible monster that killed their spouse?
Sven ferries the sexy doctor to her underwater lair, I mean, lab, but not without a pit stop to rescue the rebellious daughter and some tourists from something. A something that frightened away regular sharks. What ever could it be? According to the awful dub work, it is a Mega-lodon. There are some emphasis issues.
Since everyone knows sharks hold the key to all sorts of medical mysteries, the scientists are using sharks to find a cure for cancer. I'm all for that. Cancer sucks.
After the fine doctor is deposited at the lair, Sven encounters a doped up fisherman who saw the giant shark (Mega-lodon) eat a regular shark. Oops, almost forgot about the reporter in pursuit of the big story and her shady-looking cameraman. People on boats everywhere. Anyway, Sven freaks out because he knows this is the same Mega-lodon that done eated his wife lo these years ago. So Sven, in some of the finest Jeep abuse ever, races to the beach where his rebellious daughter, Maya, is competing in a Jet-Ski race against a snooty blonde chick with prominent nipples. Dad does a spectacular job of clearing the people out the the water by yelling, in a not very concerned tone, "Shark alarm! Shark alarm!" He says this about 30 times and barely changes his inflection. Of course, there is no shark and his daughter gets all pissy because he made her lose the race.
Sven confronts his cop-friend-with-a-dying-wife about not telling everyone about the Mega-lodon. Cop friend apparently is also president of the Camber of Commerce because he can only think of the tourists cancelling their trips. Mustn't let all that foreign money dry up. That is far, far more important that people being eaten.
Sven vows to kill the monster that done eated his woman and breaks out his old school shark-hunting kit. Then there is an arrest, a break out, a madcap chase in a Fortwo through the streets of Majorca, and an encounter with a fat man surrounded by women who gives up his sweet ride in the name of shark killing. Sven and pretty doctor are on the same side by now, and are rushing to stop the head scientist from capturing the megalodon.
I gotta say, I'm kind of with the head scientist lady here. She is looking for a cure for cancer, for fuck's sake. I don't think that Sven's desire to sushify the megalodon to slake his thirst for revenge should take precedence.
Sven and attractive doctor have the crew of the boat at gunpoint and are preparing to fire explosive-tipped spears at the megalodon. Uh-oh, turns out that the cop-with-a-dying-wife is on the side of the scientists because his wife is dying of cancer. Will the cop kill Sven, his BFF, in order to save his wife? (Let us ignore the fact that cop's wife looked seriously end-stage, so even if they get their shark samples, wifey's gonna kick it looong before a cure is viable.) Begin fisticuffs. Crash, bang, boom, and evil scientist is munched by giant shark. Irony? Cue heartfelt speech from Sven to cop friend. Cop friend realizes the error of his ways and massages Sven's face in apology. Many spears are fired at the megalodon but not before he rams the shit out of the boat and some gas lines are severed. Cop friend valiantly volunteers to stay on the doomed vessel and shoot more spears should the megalodon reappear. Which it does...at the big Jet-Ski race!
Once again Sven is rushing to save his rebellious daughter. See, bitchy blonde cut rebellious daughter's fuel line! Of course, our megalodon friend is fast approaching. Luckily for our hero and his progeny, sultry doctor is a capable helicopter pilot. This leaves Sven free to do some dangling and jumping and quick fuel line fixes. Daddy and daughter are safely back in the 'copter and megalodon is making its last attempt to eat Sven's entire family. Sven, that former body-building motherfucker, fires a spear right down megalodon's gaping maw. Shark guts everywhere. But look out! rebellious daughter has fallen into the water. Sven does his rescuing thing, again, and daughter wakes and immediately starts panicking. Dad shoulda knocked her out again so she wouldn't damn well drown both of them.
Final scene: Sven and lovely doctor are scuba-ing through the wreck of a boat that is supposed to be haunted (the legend mentioned above) and make with the underwater nookie. Ende.
I have made mention of my most favoritest boss ever, Stoneface, many times on this blog. Usually I am commenting on his fascination with sandwiches; his inability to have a conversation with me that doesn't involve food, or how I take my coffee; his delicate feelings; his alcoholism. This is something a little different. I now have photographic evidence of the bizarre world that Stoneface lives in. Let me set the scene:
The is a server room near my desk at work, and outside this server room is a blade rack with no blades in it. See random server rack image below.
Just a basic metal framework. Well, Stoneface, in what I can only assume was a fit of drunken inspiration, decided it looked much like a guillotine - or the frame of a guillotine. That lead to this:
That's right; my crazy, drunk (pretty sure he's a stoner too but that actually makes him slightly more appealing) boss taped cardboard and poster paper to the server rack and used my red Sharpie to add the super realistic-looking blood. Then he skipped around like a giddy little boy and pointed out his creation to everyone. Yes people, this is my workplace.
