Double Down.....I DOUBLE Dare You.

This should get your blood boiling – without even having to ingest one bite. Consumerism, gluttony, corporate irresponsibility, nutritional obligation……What is going on?!

Where does the fault lie – just because you CAN create and market something doesn’t mean you should. Just because you CAN order and eat something doesn’t mean you should. Why are we not doing more about this? Is it a need to feed on something so bad for you it feels rebellious? Are you rebelling against the ‘Man’ by ordering up a Double Down? Does the ‘Man’ care? Should he?

KFC's Double Down bet pays off
(msn.com 5/19/10)

KFC says Americans are gobbling down so many Double Down sandwiches that the fast-food chain will offer the bunless, meaty sandwich longer than it had planned
**what, did they intend to promote it as a dare?**

KFC said it has been one of its most successful sandwich launches ever.
**define success. Heart attacks? Blood pressure prescriptions on the rise? Double breasted-beakless chicken shortages?**

Later this month, KFC expects to sell its 10 millionth Double Down. They cost about $5.
**Hmm….that’s fifty million dollars. Yet they are only donating $.50 per bucket to the cure for breast cancer. I think KFC could step it up, don’t you?**

Some have questioned the sandwiches' nutritional value.
**Duh

The original version has 540 calories and 32 grams of fat, and 1,380 milligrams of salt. A grilled version cuts calories to 460 and fat to 23 grams, but sodium rises to 1,430 milligrams. By comparison, the Big Mac from McDonald's has 540 calories, 29 grams of fat and 1,040 milligrams of sodium. A daily 1,500 milligrams of sodium is recommended.

Full Lyrics. AS IF

hey, hey, hey

My love, uh huh, my love, hey,

my love, hey, my love, hey,

my love, hey, my love, hey

Way to go Justin Timberlake.

And they said don't judge a book by its cover. Guess you proved them wrong, huh?

Must be nice getting paid a million per letter.

Let's crack some skulls

Well actually, just teeth.

Stupid teeth. I can't wait for this to be done later today. It's no secret that I get really freaked out with doctors and stupid freaked out about teeth. You can imagine my general state of mind today....

So I'm getting ready to pull on my big girl pants, comfortable and not restricting. Drying my hair straight today because I doubt I'll feel like a shower tomorrow and putting all the smushy food I bought at eye level so there's no thinking involved. No thinking.

I hope side effect numero uno from percocet or darvaset or vicodin is giggles. It'll help when I look at the chipmunk cheeks in the mirror.

447.......448.......449...................450................451.................452.....................453.....................454........

Well, I'm running out of sheep. So much for that trick.

Sweet dreams when you get there

There were many nights when Corri and I lived together when we would stay up late talking and giggling, making plans for life or just plans for the Best. Lunch. Ever.....until we could hardly keep our eyes open. Sleep was giving us a curfew yet we would beg for "just 10 more minutes" like little kids. Finally giving in and calling it a night, the bedtime checklist was conducted: door locked? lights off? candles extinguished? cats accounted for? and we would head to our rooms. From down the hall I would hear her say to me, "Sweet dreams when you get there" and I would drift off, destination in mind. Except I have never been one to have all that many dreams -- some occasional running through forests dreams and the reoccurring nightmare --but mostly nothing to write home about that I could recall or even feel the imprint of when I woke up the next morning. I trust that they played and I watched without feeling the need to dwell or run an encore the next night. This system was all fine by me. Then I moved into my own place for the first time ever. Dreams have started being remembered, replayed and weigh heavy. Insomnia has become a constant bedfellow.

I'm miserable. Or, at least let's say I liked it better when I didn't remember anything exciting from the night. Sleep and I are at odds. It's like driving in a car a long distance with someone you are fighting with. You've got to acquiesce and know that being in the car is necessary to get you to the destination but it's not the place you are thrilled about spending time.

This past week in particular handed my ass to me on a pillow. It's UNBELIEVABLE how the stupid reoccurring dreams, two actually, are so easily understood and clear when I wake up. I want to stand in line at the dream counter and tell the sales rep that, "Yes, thank you I enjoyed the message and appreciate the opportunity to watch the re-run. Now could you please wrap it up and file it under "CRYSTAL CLEAR" for me?" Thanks.

But yet as I sit here not tired, or not wanting to go have another go around of the same fucking picture film, I know it's all cued up waiting. Cruel.

I wish I had a hallway and at the end of the hall was my fabulous roomie calling out "sweet dreams" because at least I had a fighting chance -- or someone to drag back out on the couch and keep me company through the adventures of Insomnia.

Too late now

Facebook.

I did it. I'm either going to catch a lot of grief, or a lot of "it's about damn time."

Detour

I was all set tonight to write about casually dating or my life as a contestant on the $10,000 pyramid. And then I got onto the internet and started bouncing around clicking on this link and that link -- feeling like I was back aimlessly driving around on the winding two lane country roads of my youth, no street lights, very few street signs, no destination in mind -- and I happened to check in on my high school buddies band, Small Brown Bike.

Which led me a side project, www.dragonstheshow.com

Which led me to their Facebook page

Which led me to familiar names and discovered familiar faces

And now I'm sitting here at my kitchen table in a haze of memory and emotion and I don't know what to do with myself. For 16 years I've only ventured back home a dozen times or so. I would fondly recall people, events, mundane high school days...wondering what those people were up to. Who got married, who had kids, what corners of the Earth they moved to, what careers they wound up in. Kristy B does a really good job of keeping in the loop as much as she can with the big things (weddings, divorce, babies and gossip) but I miss the day to day. I'm envious of them sitting on a bar stool at Dark Horse or the bleachers at a football game on Friday night. I know it sounds unreal but I didn't really consider the possibility that they would be accessible online, easy to find, easy to contact and catch up with. And now I feel like I've been picked up and set down in the middle of a reunion that I didn't RSVP to.

Is it too late? Do I walk into the pep rally 16 years late and try to connect with these friends from my past?

Some Facebookers I know have 1200 "friends." I only had 500 kids in my HIGH SCHOOL. Twelve of them I just found looking at OTHER Facebook pages. Names from the past that would flitter thru my head and I would just give up as though they were lost forever.

Technology has successfully played yet another little prank on me. Fool me once, shame on you...Fool me twice.......maybe it's time I do this. Four years until our 20 year reunion. Maybe there's still hope for me to make some connections.