Well it's not really that random of a video. If anybody knows me well enough I love everything Nintendo, especially Super Mario. (I have a tattoo of Mario from Super Paper Mario somewhere on my body.) This is a video of a series called "Asshole Mario." It's pretty much a mod version of a Super Mario World for the Super Nintendo with the difficulty ramped up 10x times.
Friday, November 16, 2007
Babysitting...
Yes, I do on rare occasions do babysitting jobs for my brother who has three kids. It's usually very boring because my style of babysitting is me sitting down on the couch and watching the rugrats play around the house and only get up for the occasional restroom break or to see if they broke something. Unfortunately I had to spend the prior night at my brother's house to watch his kids the next day while he went off to work. Wondering where the mother is? Well she's in Mexico on vacation I suppose. I don't know, but for the life of me I couldn't fall asleep there at his house. I'm pretty sure it was the sofa I was sleeping on and the fact the place I was sleeping at wasn't my home. You know the saying, "Home is where the heart is?" I agree with this old adage fully. I just feel uncomfortable... Somewhere around the time two in the morning, I finally passed out only to be awaken by my phone ringing. It was my boyfriend calling me at five in the morning. I'm not mad about it or anything, actually I find it cute that he called me so early in the morning. We gave each other our "I love you's" and I passed out again. I woke up around eight and waited for the kids to come downstairs. They did and they pretty much entertained themselves for the rest of the day as I sat on the couch. I did make them some eggs though. I suppose that's what a nanny does. I'm no nanny. I pretty much just stared at the clock all day until my brother came home. When he finally did I was ready to jet! I don't like watching other peoples kids.... (Things I Despise #141)
Wednesday, November 7, 2007
Bijan Persian Grill
Bijan Persian Grill
5922 Hillcroft St.
Houston, TX 77036
(832) 242-1500
I must first clarify that I only started to review these establishments on the mere fact that in the past, my boyfriend and I find ourselves growing tired of the usual Mexican, Chinese, and Italian fair we always begrudgingly settle for; therefore, we try to visit restaurants new to us and our cultural norms. To be quite honest, we had never been to a Persian restaurant, nor had we any idea what country Persian people originated. As long as I am being honest, I was quite hesitant in having a meal at a Persian restaurant. It was after my initial hesitation did I remember that life isn’t worth living if you didn’t take risks.
My first glimpse of the establishments was obviously from the driver’s seat as I tried to find a suitable parking space. It looked quite average and almost boring. The exterior walls of the restaurant were completely made of glass and you can see right through to the kitchen in the back from the street. The lighting was bright, harsh, and was obviously an afterthought on the designer’s part; if there even was a designer. The décor was mediocre and the walls were painted with a predictable assortment of plants and flowers. The tables had sad excuses for art in the form of torn out art book pages sandwiched between drab table cloth and a slab of glass. Overall, the space was forgettable and reeked of mediocrity.
In normal restaurants, customers are greeted by a warm friendly person usually at a podium and are kindly seated; however, in Bijan Persian Grill, customers new to restaurant feel bewildered by the absence of any kind of podium or a even a bloody sign informing them to seat themselves. It took forever for anyone working there to inform us that we must seat ourselves. Our food server for the evening looked as if the 1980’s shit all over her. I could have sworn she was Pat Benatar for a second. What made it even worse was that her English was incoherent and frustrating. We would have gladly paid to have someone else wait on us.
At first glance at the menu, you would think you are looking at the “To-Go” menu; however, the sad truth is that pitiful little excuse for a menu is no joke. I’m sure Persian people have a great variety of food, but this menu puts Taco Bell to shame for reusing the same food elements in slightly varying forms. There was beef fillet kabob, ground beef kabob, chicken fillet kabob, ground chicken kabob, and so-on. Wading through the short list of entrées they had we made our decision. Patiently we waited for our server to come by to take our order as the other five people in the restaurant ate. “Ms. Benatar” finally came by to take our orders and my boyfriend ordered first like a pro. I confidently turn to our server and tell her I’d like “the special,” as it was called on the menu. Following this is when all hell breaks loose and this bitch almost made me want to stab my eye out with the knife in front of me. I’m not going to try to explain what the hell “Ms. Benatar” was trying to explain to me due to the simple fact that neither my boyfriend or I could figure out what the fuck she was trying to say. Don’t get me wrong; I tried my very best to figure out what she was trying to say, but with my head tilted in bewilderment, I said “Bollocks! I’ll have what he’s having !” Even that seemed to give her a little trouble to comprehend for a second; nevertheless, she finally got it and scuttled away to the kitchen.
Now to the most important part of this review; the food! Since in frustration, my boyfriend and I got the same thing we had the same experiences with little differences. Presentation-wise, the food looked edible and some of it smelled good! We had ordered the ground beef kabob, chicken fillet kabob with a side (mound) of rice. Let me get the bad out of the way. The rice wasn’t my cup of tea. Now I don’t want to make any wide generalizations that all Persian rice tastes like what I tasted there, so I will only say coming from a Latino background, the rice smelled and tasted like ass. Excuse me, I’m being quite hyperbolic. Let me rephrase that; it smelled either like melted plastic or crayons and tasted bland. Even my boyfriend masked the taste with hot sauce. With the rice out of the way, the meat kabob was actually edible and tasty! I wouldn’t consider it a big thing though; the meat kabob was just a long strip of ground beef. I’m sure a monkey could make that meat kabob. The chicken, even though marinated, was dry and had to be washed down with a drink. My boyfriend noted his chicken was moist so maybe I got the bad batch. Quite frankly, after that I did not want to eat anything there. We waited for our slow “Mr. Benatar” to hand us the check and we ending our adventure in Persian!
I can’t honestly recommend this restaurant to anybody. The food their was one of many problems with the place and I start with firing that bitch “Pat Benatar.” See ya next time!
5922 Hillcroft St.
Houston, TX 77036
(832) 242-1500
I must first clarify that I only started to review these establishments on the mere fact that in the past, my boyfriend and I find ourselves growing tired of the usual Mexican, Chinese, and Italian fair we always begrudgingly settle for; therefore, we try to visit restaurants new to us and our cultural norms. To be quite honest, we had never been to a Persian restaurant, nor had we any idea what country Persian people originated. As long as I am being honest, I was quite hesitant in having a meal at a Persian restaurant. It was after my initial hesitation did I remember that life isn’t worth living if you didn’t take risks.
My first glimpse of the establishments was obviously from the driver’s seat as I tried to find a suitable parking space. It looked quite average and almost boring. The exterior walls of the restaurant were completely made of glass and you can see right through to the kitchen in the back from the street. The lighting was bright, harsh, and was obviously an afterthought on the designer’s part; if there even was a designer. The décor was mediocre and the walls were painted with a predictable assortment of plants and flowers. The tables had sad excuses for art in the form of torn out art book pages sandwiched between drab table cloth and a slab of glass. Overall, the space was forgettable and reeked of mediocrity.
In normal restaurants, customers are greeted by a warm friendly person usually at a podium and are kindly seated; however, in Bijan Persian Grill, customers new to restaurant feel bewildered by the absence of any kind of podium or a even a bloody sign informing them to seat themselves. It took forever for anyone working there to inform us that we must seat ourselves. Our food server for the evening looked as if the 1980’s shit all over her. I could have sworn she was Pat Benatar for a second. What made it even worse was that her English was incoherent and frustrating. We would have gladly paid to have someone else wait on us.
At first glance at the menu, you would think you are looking at the “To-Go” menu; however, the sad truth is that pitiful little excuse for a menu is no joke. I’m sure Persian people have a great variety of food, but this menu puts Taco Bell to shame for reusing the same food elements in slightly varying forms. There was beef fillet kabob, ground beef kabob, chicken fillet kabob, ground chicken kabob, and so-on. Wading through the short list of entrées they had we made our decision. Patiently we waited for our server to come by to take our order as the other five people in the restaurant ate. “Ms. Benatar” finally came by to take our orders and my boyfriend ordered first like a pro. I confidently turn to our server and tell her I’d like “the special,” as it was called on the menu. Following this is when all hell breaks loose and this bitch almost made me want to stab my eye out with the knife in front of me. I’m not going to try to explain what the hell “Ms. Benatar” was trying to explain to me due to the simple fact that neither my boyfriend or I could figure out what the fuck she was trying to say. Don’t get me wrong; I tried my very best to figure out what she was trying to say, but with my head tilted in bewilderment, I said “Bollocks! I’ll have what he’s having !” Even that seemed to give her a little trouble to comprehend for a second; nevertheless, she finally got it and scuttled away to the kitchen.
Now to the most important part of this review; the food! Since in frustration, my boyfriend and I got the same thing we had the same experiences with little differences. Presentation-wise, the food looked edible and some of it smelled good! We had ordered the ground beef kabob, chicken fillet kabob with a side (mound) of rice. Let me get the bad out of the way. The rice wasn’t my cup of tea. Now I don’t want to make any wide generalizations that all Persian rice tastes like what I tasted there, so I will only say coming from a Latino background, the rice smelled and tasted like ass. Excuse me, I’m being quite hyperbolic. Let me rephrase that; it smelled either like melted plastic or crayons and tasted bland. Even my boyfriend masked the taste with hot sauce. With the rice out of the way, the meat kabob was actually edible and tasty! I wouldn’t consider it a big thing though; the meat kabob was just a long strip of ground beef. I’m sure a monkey could make that meat kabob. The chicken, even though marinated, was dry and had to be washed down with a drink. My boyfriend noted his chicken was moist so maybe I got the bad batch. Quite frankly, after that I did not want to eat anything there. We waited for our slow “Mr. Benatar” to hand us the check and we ending our adventure in Persian!
I can’t honestly recommend this restaurant to anybody. The food their was one of many problems with the place and I start with firing that bitch “Pat Benatar.” See ya next time!
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