The Old Man and the...Waffle-Cicle

The old man (aka Theo-Man) has had a long-standing tradition of preparing peculiar creations when it comes to foodstuffs, but this covert photo captured by Li'l Q-Pon takes the cake for the deranged. Proving that senility can be sneaky, we find Papa Toad munching a Fudge-Cicle sandwiched between a pair of cinnamon waffles. Photographic evidence suggests that there may have been some builder's remorse upon sampling of the goods. Enjoy!

Theo-Man and his Waffle Sammich

Tales From the Clipped:
The Caveat of the Box-Less Answering Machine

Sometimes it pays to buy something new, instead of diving through the clearance bin and trying to haggle down the price. I did the latter the other night at Menard's, and ended up paying the price. The digital answering machine pictured below was all alone on the shelf, out of its box, with a clearance price tag of $11. I thought this a tad high, since it had no box, nor an instruction manual - which meant that I'd have to spend an hour or so trying to figure out how to make it work. This, in my opinion, was an excellent opportunity to solicit an additional discount on an already clearanced item.


Thus emboldened, I proceeded to hold up the checkout line for roughly fifteen minutes while a series of peons worked the web of intercom calls up to the managerial ranks. In the meantime I talked up my new business to all those who would listen, but in doing so neglected to notice something very important: my digital answering machine had no power cord. I had apparently mistaken its built-in phone cord for a power plug. So, even though they reduced the price down to $9, I still either have to swallow my pride and return it or go out and try to find a 5V power cord.

Not to fear, though - there's no rush to get an answering machine into my store; I stole the old one from my college days back from my brother's store in Champaign while working there the other night. They won't miss it - it wasn't hooked up, and the message said that they would be closed until January 3. I hooked up the machine at my store, and didn't change said message right away, so a number of curious callers couldn't figure out why I wouldn't be open for another ten months or so. As soon as I figure out how to use the cordless machine, I'll put the old machine back in the Champaign store and Steve will never know it was gone - unless he reads this blog...

CB Royalty: David and the Amazing 100% Duct Tape Wallet

I can't believe I never thought of this - I used to just add layers of Scotch tape to an otherwise intact worn pleather wallet. My friend and store manager David Flood has just taken cheap bastardry into a new stratosphere. See, he never even bothered with a prefabricated wallet; rather, he noted that the intrinsic properties of duct tape allow it to form around whatever shape it surrounds. Thus, he created a four-compartment wallet in which to store his life, but then decided to keep it simple and just stuff it all together in one Costanza-esque lump. In the words of Denzel the American Gangster, "My man!"

More Corkscrew Chronicles: Amateur Wine Disasters

"Say It Ain't So, Pinot!"

This is probably why most people go out to eat for Valentine's Day. Another bottle of wine, another unqualified disaster salvaged into wine-chugged-from-a-Rubbermaid-jug. The perfect nightcap to an evening spent comparing packages of Filet Mignon at the local Kroger, calculating how much I'd save with my ill-begotten 10% discount on Kroger-brand lima beans, and scrounging for the cheapest package of tomatoes for my salad ($2.99! I can't believe I actually bought them...).

So anyways, we eat and then decide to partake in a bottle of wine. Given our previous track record, I was extra careful from the start...to no avail. Oh, well...at least it makes for a great story. Enjoy!

Maybe we should actually buy a bottle opener.

We watched a few choice episodes of MacGyver searching for ingenious ideas, and using only a rubber band and a thumb tack managed to rescue all the wine without removing the cork.

You can never be too careful - cork kills...or at least probably wouldn't taste very good.

Ah, the taste of victory!

Goin' Stag!

Believe it or not, I did not actually buy this beer, but rather found it sitting outside an apartment in the alley next to my store. I readily admit that grabbing the Stag and running like hell was a thought that most definitely crossed my mind. Not that I regard Stag to be on a par with Guinness or anything, but rather I think it is just the beer to fit the motto, "Stag...It brings out the CB in me!"

I may have to see if I can incorporate this fine product into this week's Valentine's Day festivities. Wish me luck!

Sloppy Joe v 2.0

Sloppy Joe: 2008 Edition

I'm not sure what's going on, whether I'm becoming less cheap, busier, or hungrier, but somehow my blog appears to be skewing towards the culinary, while drifting precipitously away from my bread-and-butter cheap bastardry. Never to fear, though - the above meal was free, courtesy of Sloppy Joe Ritacco himself. I had a freebie coming my way in exchange for having driven the GM home a few nights prior (he, possibly a cheaper bastard than I, has discarded his vehicle in the store's parking lot after the axle more or less seceded from the body of the car), and endeavored to use it wisely. Fortuitously, Joe just happened to be managing the next time I worked, and I deftly reminded him that almost nine months or more had elapsed since our last Sloppy Joe experience. Taken aback, he agreed that it was time to renew acquaintances with this ninth wonder of the world, and the above was our reward. For the sake of contrast, I have also posted below the original Sloppy Joe. The major differences between the two: sourdough toast replaced Texas Toast (a product of me trying to eat a little less unhealthy), onion rings taking the place of fries (so much for less unhealthy...), and salsa and mustard added to the cornucopia of dressings involved in one way or another (I'm fairly confident this is the ONLY Sloppy Joe to ever incorporate 1000 Island salad dressing).

The Original Sloppy Joe

The verdict: it's hard to top an original, but let that never stop people from trying. Maybe I'm biased because I had a salad and a shake before digging into the new edition, while the original was consumed on an empty stomach. A side-by-side comparison may yield substantially different results.

More random adventures of some sort soon...

A CB Adventure

It's been awhile since I've escaped Bloomington and gone on one of my trademark CB binges; thankfully, I was able to remedy that quite well this past weekend. As always, a trip up to visit Chewy in Wisconsin provided ample opportunity to cheap it out.

I started out from the Twin Cities with a full tank of gas; however, knowing that a car's mileage suffers during the winter, I knew I'd be in for a close call as far as getting back without having to make a Chicago pit stop, especially since I'd agreed to dump off Madame CB in New Lenox, which added about 50 miles to the trip.

Seeing as I didn't want to spend any more on gas than was absolutely necessary, I extracted from Stevo a concession that he would drive us from Chicago onwards, no questions asked. Upon arrival, we sought out one of the cheaper dining options around - a Mexican greasy spoon diner. Excellent enchiladas, but my stomach was forever wrecked for the remainder of the night; to many, this might seem unfortunate, but for me it saved me probably $10-$20 on beer that I was unable to drink. By the time I recovered the next morning, it was time for the next installment of the odyssey - a garbage plate (look out below).


Frank's Diner in Kenosha has been serving it up since 1926 (we had plenty of time to read the menu, since they have more hungry fans than they can ever handle, so everyone knows to wait patiently and read the menu twenty times over), and is famous for their garbage plates, which involve eggs, hash browns, onions, and peppers mixed with your choice of other assorted crap. When I found out the special of the day was the gyros garbage plate, I'm not sure I hesitated one second to consider the possibilities - sometimes you just have to trust your gut. Though the final tab of $10 or so is decidedly un-CB, it's long been my MO to splurge on the unique and satisfying; had I dumped a similar amount at McDonald's, there's no way I'd have considered it worthwhile unless Mak and I were throwing down on our long-awaited McGriddle eat-off.

So anyways, I left the blowing of the money to Stewie (Stevo and Chewy) - Stevo with his never-ending procession of mixed drinks, and Chewy his insatiable predilection for men's room novelty items (he got me an instant marriage license - below - but kept the rubber "tickler" ring), electronic bowling games, and darts.


All in all, I spent a decent amount, but only in the ways I wanted to spend it. Perhaps this sheds a little bit of light on what being a true CB is all about - it's not all coupons and clearance bins after all.

Oh, yeah! One more thing...the weekend's CB Prime Time Performer (PTP) award goes to Matt O'Malia for swiping these delicious meatballs (see below) - a full plate's worth - from a private gathering at a bar, covering them up with a second plate to keep them warm, and delivering them to us at the bar next door, complete with toothpicks! Thanks, Matt!