February 2006 Archives

Rape and Honey

I received these two interesting emails in response to the previous canola/rape post...

There's even a town in my home province who's motto is: "Tisdale - The Land of Rape and Honey".

I can't imagine it's done much for their tourism and I noticed it's not all that prominent on their website, but you can see it printed on the town's sign at the top of the page. They also admit this logo under the tourism interesting facts link.



"Hmm... that does sound like a lot of rape. But, they do have honey. Screw it-- Tisdale, here we come!!!"

Hey there,

Not to sound too much like an egg-headed academic because I'm not — an academic that is. I've long been egg-headed, but canola is bit more than just a new name for rapeseed.

True, they just arbitrary changed the name for marketing purposes a few decades back, but it had more to do with the fact that the original rapeseed plants were used for industrial oils and were not generally fit for human consumption. Something about high in erucic acids that can cause heart attacks.

Not to be deterred by such a trivial details, some scientist managed to breed out the harmful acid (before the days of genetic engineering) and thus they thought they had better change the name of the new stuff because who the hell would would they ever convince to eat this shit if everybody thought their hearts were going to explode at the first taste.

Anyway, it's actually healthier than soy oils, corn oils and blah, blah blah with zero trans fats or somesuch.

And no, I don't work for the canola police.


I found there's even a Ministry album named after a souvenir Tisdale mug the band had found...

Acres and Acres of Rape

Here's some useless information for you...

The neuron in my brain apparently dedicated to thinking about canola oil fired off yesterday and it said, "Hey, what the hell is a canola?"

I conducted a "cyber-search" on the "world wide web" and it turns out there is no such thing as a "canola." Canola oil comes from the seed of the rape plant (a.k.a. rapeseed oil).

The word "canola" is just a combination of the words "Canadian" and "oil". It was coined in the early 1970s since people generally frown upon rape. (Michelle says it actually stands for "Canadian Oil, Low Acid".)

Here's a fun website about the evil canola conspiracy.

Here's a fun website dispelling the evil canola conspiracy.

And here's a book on knitting with dog hair. (Thanks, Jessica!)

Hail to the Chef

Happy Presidents' Day! It is time once again for The Sneeze to salute this country's 27th leader:


A man so dedicated to this title, even his last name had "FAT" in it.

In fact, if you rearrange the letters in "PRESIDENT TAFT" you get the anagram: "TIRED, FAT, SPENT." (Interestingly, if you rearrange the letters in the word "ANAGRAM" you get the sentence: "ONLY DORKS LIKE ANAGRAMS.")

At his peak, Taft tipped the national scales at 350 pounds. Legend has it he once got stuck in the White House bathtub. He later had a new tub installed that was large enough to hold four men, thus assuring he could easily rinse the Presidential Ass. (Or the asses of four men.)

I even came across an actual chart that maps his weight gain. Note how it peaks during the presidency. Some might feel this was a reaction to the stresses of running the country. I prefer to think he was simply doing everything he could to secure the record of "Fattest President" for himself. Call me crazy, but he was also the first president to have cars at the White House. Everyone knows, when you're going for girth, walking don't get you in the record books.

I would like to conclude this salute by informing you that NAAFA is the The National Association to Advance Fat Acceptance. Now, Lincoln may have freed the slaves, but you don't see him in the NAAFA Hall of Fame, do you? Do you?! No, I don't think you do.

Really Good Grief

After I put up that little tribute to Franklin from Peanuts, Randee sent me this outstanding email:

What a nice little tribute!

I always will think of Franklin as the reason I got Charles Schulz pissed off at me.

There was a four-panel strip in a Peanuts Treasury I read when I was about 15, and in it Franklin expresses a desire to play for the NHL. Peppermint Patty immediately squashes that dream with a final panel comment along the lines of "come on, Franklin, how many black players are there in the NHL?" Which I didn't actually get the point of. I mean, true: Yep. Trenchant to point out? Not in this case.

But, at 15 I thought I might have missed what Schulz was trying to say, and I wrote ol' Chuck. I got a letter back on Snoopy stationery, from One Snoopy Place, hand typed, in which he berated me for calling him a "racist" (I'd actually said the strip could be perceived that way, but maybe he could explain it to me better) and said I'd rushed to judgment, and there wasn't anything racist at all in pointing out that there were no black players in the NHL.

The thing is, there wasn't anything funny about pointing it out either.

So, while Charles Schulz delighted generations with his Peanuts, I appear to have been a sour grape. Ah, well, I still love some of the early years.

Want photographic proof? Lemme know. It's a gem of a letter. Hand-signed and everything.


PEANUTS © 1971, United Feature Syndicate, Inc.

Thanks, Randee! (Just for fun, go piss off the Marmaduke guy now.)

Stevie's Home! (A Valentine's Love Tip)

A long time ago when my wife was my girlfriend and we were LIVING IN SIN, a tradition was born. I'd like to now share it with you all.

I came home from work one day and found her in front of the computer. I said "Hello," and she barely grunted back. I don't even think she looked up.

Half-jokingly I responded, "Okay, we're gonna try this again." I walked out the front door and came back in a few moments later...

"STEVIE'S HOME, STEVIE'S HOME!!! YAY!!!" was the new over-the-top cheer I was greeted with. It was accompanied by a hug and kisses. And I loved it.

What began as a joke quickly became an ongoing practice that continues to this day in our house: The person who is home first must make a small fuss when the other person gets there.

Does it sound silly? Yes. Do I promise that it will set the tone for a nicer evening just about every time you do it? Yes.

The world is full of douchebags, guys. Take 3 seconds out of your precious day to make a fuss over each other. Do it like you mean it. Do it as a goof. Just do it a lot.

I'm promise you'll be glad you did.

(For those who'd prefer to cleanse their palette of the preceeding sweetness, the following profanity has been provided for your convenience: fuckhole.)

Surgical Photography

I was messing around with my camera and a game of Operation. I ended up with this.

I thought it was kinda cool. (Plus I was looking for an excuse to try posting a pic directly from flickr.)

If you click on it, you can find a much bigger version there using the "all sizes" button.

Frankly Franklin

February is Black History Month, and I felt it my duty to acknowledge the contributions of an often overlooked African-American: Franklin from Peanuts.

While most of the Charles Schulz characters hogged the spotlight by carrying blankets, playing the piano or just being filthy, Franklin flew under the radar keeping it real.

PEANUTS © 2006, United Feature Syndicate, Inc.

Please take a moment to enjoy the fascinating, inspirational and controversial history of this ground-breaking Peanut.

- Franklin met Charlie Brown at the beach in 1968. They'd never met before because they went to different schools, but they had fun playing ball so Charlie Brown invited Franklin to visit him at his house across town for another play session.

- Later, Franklin turned up as center-fielder on Peppermint Patty's baseball team and sits in front of her at school.

- Franklin is thoughtful and can quote the Old Testament as effectively as Linus.

- He and Charlie Brown spend quite a bit of time talking about their respective grandfathers.

- According to the animated television special You're in the Super Bowl, Charlie Brown, Franklin's last name is Armstrong.

Rosa Parks, Martin Luther King Jr. and Fat Albert did cool stuff too, but Franklin, today is your day to shine.

The Sneeze salutes you.

Meat Cubes


Back in August a reader named Margaret felt the name "meatballs" was too obvious and asked if we could come up with something more imaginative. That post is here.

In one of the responses, Keith hypothesized that one day meatballs would eventually become cubes to make them easier to ship. He named these "Carcass Cubes."

In response to Keith's idea, I received the following email the other day:

Hi Steve,

Ok, while I'm waiting for my subject to finish her computer test and reading some older the Sneeze, I came across the term 'Carcass Cubes' in the blowjob/blow job/blow-job and naming meat topic of august 26.

I'm happy to announce that we, the Dutch, or more specifically some dutch spicing company called Silvo, can now actually make these cubical meatballs, which, I know, sounds like a contradictio in terminis, but we really can.

The most peculiar thing is that the people at Silvo actually claim is that it would be easier to create these Carcass Cubes and they would even taste better.

How in the h... does shape influence taste when you're using the same cooking materials? Since when do cubes taste better than spheres? Maybe the beloved readers of the Sneeze can answer this...

anyway, click and be amazed:


Can shape alone influence taste? Do cubes taste better than spheres? The comment board is NOW CLOSED, but still readable.

(And don't miss the meat cube commercial.)

Hey, You Got Your Robot In My Donut

I know I've been laying a little low on the posts lately. This wacky thing called work just keeps getting in the way.

But I've been meaning to mention a fun game. If you've been reading The Sneeze for any period of time, you'll remember my fantastic robot paintin' pal, Eric Joyner. And if you remember Eric, you'll probably also remember his habit of slipping donuts into his robot paintings.

I mention all this because I was contacted by a game creator who, by complete coincidence, created a robots and donuts game a couple of years ago. It's called "Rocknor's Donut Factory." It's a fun logic/puzzle game set in a donut factory. You can check out the free trial version here.

But be warned if you, too, have the wacky thing called work you should be doing. This game has a suprisingly strong ability to suck people in. (Not really in the Paris Hilton way, but close enough.)


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This page is an archive of entries from February 2006 listed from newest to oldest.

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