Tag: diet

Swami Says This

by doitalldadyear, posted in humor, poetry, writing

Hop O Rama Swami on Success:

Swami says, “Be better than best or be nobody worth giving a shit about.”

Hop O Rama Swami on Life:

Swami says, “Live life in fear and you’ve got less to live for than a monologue joke writer for Stephen Colbert does. It’s too bad Bill O’ Reilly is no longer important enough to impersonate. At least Bill O’ Reilly gave Colbert gravitas.”

Hop O Rama Swami on Love:

Swami says, “Loving the one you’re with is an overrated experience, especially when they resent being expected to suck off even an inch-ling of your existence every other 6 months ever again.”

Hop O Rama Swami on Creativity:

Swami says, “If you’re mom doesn’t laugh at your jokes nobody will.”

Hop O Rama Swami on Attachment:

Swami says, “Don’t get too attached to flashes of alleged genius that came out of your creatively jacked dome if they’re not embraced online or off.”

Hop O Rama Swami on Status:

Swami says, “Status updates on LinkedIn scream respectability straining.”

Hop O Rama Swami on Money:

Swami says, “Money grants greater middle finger power, just ask Stone Cold or Adam Carolla on his podcast.”

Hop O Rama Swami on Fame:

Swami says, “Doing anything for fame alone is gayer than Roger Ebert’s aghast fueled review on The Foot Fist Way, his 3rd movie by the way.”

Hop O Rama Swami on Choice:

Swami says, “You’ll be fucked over by life with your face rubbed in your feces if you allow others to push you in whatever preferred direction they choose.”

Hop O Rama Swami on Want:

Swami says, “Stroke yourself if nobody else will do it for you.”

Hop O Rama Swami on Self-Love.

Swami says, “Overpriced IPA’s only leave you bloated with self-importance inside.”

Hop O Rama Swami on Your Problems.

Swami says, “Find a new lover of you and they’ll go away.”

Hop O Rama Swami on Darkness.

Swami says, “The extent of your impact on this earth can be writing disposable ad copy for a big pharma pimping marketing firm in San Diego. So, stop acting more depressed than your Euro-Pass being rendered useless once Europe transforms into one seemingly endless no-go zone without any access to WI-FI in your Youth Hostel after the next man-made plague made in Wuhan is released to finish off our collective pursuit of happiness again.”

Hop O Rama Swami on Unnecessary Suffering:

Swami says, “I didn’t tell you to vote for Mr. Groper. And you call the other side mongoloid morons, douche bags are us.

Hop O Rama Swami on Facing Fears:

Swami says, “I’d triple wrap by super soaker before playing around with Madonna’s kick the can clit to.”

Hop O Rama Swami on Pain Management.

Swami says, “Take up blow painting and leave me out of it.”

Hop O Rama Swami on Bullshit.

Swami says, “If it sounds like bullshit, it means the person is underselling distressment again. ”

Hop O Rama Swami on Science:

Swami says, “Experimenting on kids with an experimental form of gene therapy that weakens their immune system more than entry into the Dallas Buyers Club makes you culpable of 2nd degree murder if their heart goes before your mind does when the greatest mass murdering sham throughout the history of man is revealed in full-blown harrowing detail on Pay-Per-View with Alex Jones hosting to help pay off our national debut to mankind for allowing this never ending shit show of biblical proportions to ensue under our alleged all loving, morally grounded, shit don’t stink watch. In other words, there are no benefits from taking the COVID 19 vaccine outside of rapidly fleeting airs of invaluable importance because you’re dumb enough to trust anything the FDA and whatever The Icky Shuffle administration jams down your throat with such Mao worshiping, misinformation molesting authority.”

Hop O Rama Swami on Hard Seltzer’s that are Gluten Free.

Swami says, “Acceptable to drink during your year without beer after 30 days but only if your brain is absolutely screaming out for some shishy bitch dad lightening relief.”

Michael Kornbluth

Roasting Fat Vegetarians

by doitalldadyear, posted in art, entertainment, family

Why are fat vegetarians so pathetic? Is it their dumpy physique, droopy eyes or inflated sense of self-worth, because they’re still pastier than a formula baby under house arrest during Covid? Does a meat free diet, make your complexion look a tad less oily? Yes, but fat vegetarians not so much, knowing, their added layers of blubber weigh down any glow filled, glint to their step.

But how do fat vegetarians get so fat exactly?  It isn’t from Turkey meatballs served on toothpicks from Mark Wahlberg’s personal chef.  So, what’s preventing good intentioned vegetarians from feeling better about their humane promoting diets, despite it making their pale icky, round faces look like murky, greyish, shaved Elephant balls?  From personal experience, double IPA’s inhaled in rapid succession doesn’t help, nor does frying up Beyond Meat burgers in butter whenever you want, because you’re taking a break from drinking double IPA’s during the work week again. Also, the overreliance of cheese in your average fat vegetarian’s diet stems from the lack of eating options at the bar, which is limited to Jalapeno Poppers, French Fries and French Onion Soup. So chances are, you’ll be inhaling an eggplant roll and a Grandma slice from your local pizzeria far after 10pm, which is a big no, no, in Ryan Reynold’s book, according to Men’s Journal favorite pinup to paste inside your gym locker year after year. An eggplant roll alone is 456 calories, which eaten after 10, slows your metabolism to a screeching halt, wiping out your combined calorie loss from your past 2 days on the Peloton, which isn’t getting your body into tip top, Woody Harrelson shape on the set of Natural Born Killers either. Did you know Cheddar Cheese possess 7 times more fat content than a bite of chicken breast? Ryan Seacrest’s daily diet of egg whites, chicken breast wraps isn’t so easy to disparage with such rock solid, self-righteous, all knowing glee so much anymore, is it? That’s a humungous reason why fat vegetarians should consider giving The Koshertarian Diet a chance.

Understand, most vegetarians are vegetarians for humanity purposes, even more so than the healthier heart aspect, because those same vegetarians have zero problem taking more hits from their old school glass bong, singing, “Got to have Kaya now, because tripping on acid in a Covid masks outside will make me feel like I’m trapped the middle of a Biological war for my soul man. So, The Koshertarian Diet should appeal to the fat vegetarian within us all, because all Kosher meat is sliced with a Chalaf knife, designed to kill Ben and Jerry’s cows on spot with one seamless motion, by cutting through their jugular veins, which eliminates any painful, drawn out death. Just think the opposite of Saw 1 through 7.  Also, the Kosheterain Diet forces vegetarians to get creative without the use of the cheese, involving Kosher chicken breast meals, which forbid the mixing of dairy and meat such as the time I made a cheese-less Quesadilla with diced up chicken breast cooked on the grill, later sautéed in high grade, cold pressed, extra virgin olive oil, always the best, on top of caramelized, sweet red peppers and red onion, in addition to peeled slices of garlic, and generous sprinklings of Kosher salt, and fresh ground peppercorns for extra peppy pop. After one bite of this reimagined Chicken Quesadilla, the urge to drop your customary, shredded mounds of spicy pepper jack cheese on the top of the diced up chicken breast between the fried-up flour tortillas dissipates faster than Dominion employee profile pages on LinkedIn after Sidney Powell released the Kraken after election night. Another night, I used the same batch of leftover chicken breast chicken, diced up some more, and made a pesto out of basil, pecans, garlic, Kosher salt and olive oil, mixed with a scrumptious pappardelle pasta  while topping it with some thinly sliced, cherry tomatoes on top, for some needed color and cooler texture contrast to transform this dish into some big time summer loving, having a blast, with the entire house to myself, with my wife and 3 kids in Delaware for Baba Camp for a pleasant change of pace.  Who needs meat lasagna, when you can follow Martha Stewart’s lead and perfect your version of Mexican Lasagna without having to get too carried with the cheese distribution plopage in the process? Especially, when you use baked corn tortillas as the base while stacking a couple of layers of sautéed black beans, red onions and Jalapeno peppers, with your homemade cherry tomato based salsa, encasing the entire dish with a wall of impenetrable, impossible to resist, Cilantro specked flavor, making it hard for you to separate from your plate if La Bamba is on HBO without the use of on demand cloud technology for old time’s sake.  Plus, child separation is overrated, because if Coco never got separated from his parents, he never would’ve became a miniature Los Lobos in the making. I know, making fun of a cartoon character storyline is worse than Carlos Santana claiming President Trump has “dark energy”, despite Hillary being the best-selling voodoo doll in Hatti year after year. Plus, President Trump doesn’t need to take Acid to see who’s full of shit Carlos.

So, what’s my overriding take away message, fat vegetarians, besides turning off every lit agent imaginable who believe Hiding Biden won fair and square?  Simple, eat more Kosher chicken breast-based meals and give The Koshertarian Diet a chance.  Nothing is worse than being a fat vegetarian, besides being a fat cokehead, who lacks total self-awareness or shame, by blaming their constant stomach pains on Landa Lakes.

Michael Kornbluth

Hot For Hummus

by doitalldadyear, posted in art, family, writing

Hummus is Chickpeas are great in Arabic. It’s the most popular dish in the Middle East among Egyptians, Jordanians, and Israeli offshoots of the Zohan tribe, 7 degrees separated from the golden Jew Adam Sandler. Actual unity is getting your Hummus resistor Jewish father from the Bronx to follow your 3 Koshertarian diet embracing children by joining the party to try your homemade Hummus made in his Arizona estate home for a pre-nosh nibble snack on top of toasted pita triangles with some diced up cherry tomatoes, fresh scattered parsley and vibrant looking, just grated carrots on top. I’m not betting the farm on my father to try my workshopped, perfected homemade Hummus over Thanksgiving break but as my father likes to rightfully point out, I don’t own a farm let alone a John Deer lawnmower or the personal property big enough to justify the expense because I’m still so broke, my Hebrew name is under judicial review.   Everyone can unify behind the depressingly dreary premise of a degenerate Jew like myself not being financially secure in life yet, who uses his fingers for basic arithmetic like a retarded version Dustin Hoffman at the Blackjack table at Talking Stick Casino.

Growing up in elementary school, all my Loan Officer mother ever made me was peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for lunch, which didn’t help my blobby physique one bit at the time. Still, I never complained or requested anything different, urging my mother to make me Bento box lunches with Power Rangers stickers on the outside, with Cucumber and cream cheese Koshertarian rolls wrapped in seaweed and sticky rice within. Also, as a kid, I always preferred sesame bagels, for my egg and cheeses at the local Greek dinner, inhaling 2 in one sitting, after a night of drinking, with my old school high school buds, which is why my father called me the” human shovel” for a reason. So, I don’t need to be a math savant like Dustin Hoffman in Rain Man to realize my love of nut based spreads like peanut butter would eventually lead to my developed steamy love for Tahini flavor in Hummus, which is where the oily, creamy, pulverized sesame seed spewing essence derives from. Hummus is basically, the more versatile, infinitely less tubby version of peanut butter, which also packs leaner blasts of less sticky mouth protein. So of course, I’m hot for Hummus but only after I started making my homemade versions to spice up my kid’s lunches, so I didn’t burn them out on peanut butter, ruining their capacity to ever savor a Reese’s Pieces Peanut Butter Cups, made at all the specialty chocolate chops like in Ridgefield CT again, which is an American shishy bitch rite as it gets.

If you never tried Hummus, the famed sesame paste can be a turnoff, if you never sampled the primo goods before. On the surface, some store-bought Hummus or homemade Hummus can look like a sad plop mound of dried out earwax. That’s why you must add color and a dash of sophistication to your presentation. Pine nuts, who needs them. Chopped hardboiled eggs, gross, too overtly Israeli for my taste sorry. Pesto on top of hummus, is a blatantly unnecessary, awful idea, knowing Hummus when made right, requires no parm cheese garlic infusion to make it more swoon worthy than it already is. For me, I dress up my Hummus triangle creations with a menage a trois of radiant, lick it up color such as hot to trot, Little Red Corvette, cherry tomatoes and Arizona wild, desert bloom orange specked shredded carrots or some Polo Lounge conjuring green in the form of thick strands of Jalapeno on top to keep it extra steamy in the process.  

Just like it any relationship, you have to spice things up, incorporating needed color and variety to keep things interesting or you’ll lose sustained stiffage, which is the perpetual state of arousal necessary for any relationship to get excited for toppable tomorrows. The same rule applies to homemade loving infused creations versus the mass produced, manufactured kind, which lacks the length and depth of personalized pop compared to the real thing.  So invest in a Cuisinart to blend your Goya Chickpeas, add some store bought Tahini from your local Kosher butcher, add a garlic bulb or 2, throw in a generous heaping of sea, Himalayan, or Kosher salt, I don’t give a shit, before pouring in a steady steam of medium grade Olive oil, as the hummus magic swirls into scrumptious loving perfection before constructing your pita triangle pizzas with the steamy garnishes I mentioned prior and call it a day.  At the very least, your kids will love you more for putting in the extra effort to tantalize and awaken their tastebuds to newer, fresher, yummier possibilities than ever before. Last, your wife tasting like hummus won’t lure you into sucking face with her on the spot, but you’ll take whatever justified outs a 10-year marriage can give you.

Michael Kornbluth