I've been described at various times as looking like a combination of a biker and a Viking. I'm 6' 5" tall, and my weight floats between 225 and 250 lbs, depending on diet. I have hair down to the middle of my back (not much grey or thinning yet, thank Odin), and have a beard and moustache. I'm an avid cycle commuter, hiker, and kayaker, and am the go-to guy for yard work and heavy-duty carpentry household jobs. Despite being a professional senior software developer, I dress very casually at work, usually ragged jeans, runners, and sweatshirt.
I have been known to startle people when they enter the elevator, and in my punk rock days was sometimes recruited as bouncer based on my intimidating presence. My significant other describes my appearance as "striking", an adjective that I would reserve for someone with two heads and a hook.
Based on the above, why would a co-worker sit down at my desk and ask me for advice on how to make their salads more interesting?
Other than the fact that they know I subscribe to Martha Stewart Living, of course. And the secret to a great salad is layering. Tossed salads are generally so homogenous that they're dull. Build each person's salad for their plate, and group elements for both appearance and flavour (a Salad Nicoise is a good example of this approach). This way people can pick and choose what to eat from their plate next. Use a few exotic items, like smoked cheese, steamed mussels, grilled apple slices, etc, serve as a focal point for the plate, and place over the more mundane items like greens, olives, and sliced vegetables.
{UPDATE} Would you ask this for salad advice?
Artist's Depiction of Double-Plus-Ungood (not to scale)
12 comments:
I'm assuming it's the eyebrows that are off scale a little....
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No, it was a hurried sketch, but I think they're to scale. I meant that I'm bigger than the drawing.
Did you do that sketch? I'd assumed it was done by one of your kids, after they been made to eat their peas, or grounded, or something like that.
Nope, that's all me. I went to art school too.
I need to officially notify you that I am now, henceforth, forthwith, simply running at top speed, away from you, if I see you approaching.
You don't have a hammer, I hope?
(And, alas, at my current weight, I can't run remotely as fast as I once could; I was actually moderately fast in my youth; these days, I'm more of a waddler, damnit, and I'm really making a top priority of doing something about that, but I digress.)
Say "hi" to Robert Mitchum, by the way, next time you guys have a meeting. I assume you guys all have meetings.
Of course, possibly you have a Spear, instead of a hammer.
Have I ever mentioned that I am, by the way, and in fact, very little? Or so I self-perceive, based on all those years in which we lined up in size order in elementary school, and in which I was always first unless we had an actual dwarf as a classmate (as, of course, happened a year or two, and she was very nice, naturally).
I took a leap in growth in late adolescence, raising me up to all of 5 4. Taller than my mom, dad, sister, and many aunts and uncles. Although cousins Ken and Liz, and maybe Abbe, were over 6. But it was generally a small family. Especially if we only go through blood, rather than marriage.
Thus the running, and the frightening.
Thus the running, and the frightening.
Despite my cycling and softballing and hiking, I am a very poor runner, only doing so well when chased by police, or by dogs, or by both.
I also smack my forehead on things all the time. Nothing cheers up a rush hour bus crowd like a tall guy smacking his face hard into the top of the exit door on the way out at a stop. Complete strangers clap each other on the back, and there are many huzzahs.
Holy crap.
P.S.
L-O-V-E H-A-T
Is this a fashion statement? Or are your hands just bigger than Robert Mitchum's?
er...or smaller?
Given all else, that hardly seems possible.
Nah, it was a take-off on what Sideshow Bob had tattooed on his knuckles, which in turn was a take-off of De Niro's character (and Mitchum's) in Cape Fear. Sidehow was shown in prison in an identical setup as the remake of Cape Fear, and when the camera panned onto his cartoon three-knuckled right fist, he had "L-U-V" tattooed on it. Then a l-o-o-o-n-g pan to the left hand, which had "H-A-T".
One of my favorite Simpsons jokes. I giggled for hours.
That IS funny. Cartoon fingers!
P.S. I am the last living male under the age of 60 that has never seen a single episode of The Simpsons.
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