Inspired Bullshit

I trust most of your have heard of a new-age burrito place called 'Boloco', whose slogan is 'Inspired Burritos'. I'm not quite sure what, exactly, the inspiration was or has been behind these less-than-tasty burritos, but I'd love to know.

I had lunch these yesterday; myself and La were hoping to get over the Samurai Sushi but the rain prevented us from having the desire to walk several blocks. Thus, we had to settle for either Boloco or Viga. Hindsight being as clear as it is, we should have gone with Viga but we were right in front of Boloco and it provided immediate shelter from the intensifying rain. So in we went, hopes not so high because La informed me that these things were very high in fat due to the sauces that they put on the burritos. I didn't really think anything of this because I figured i could go with something made predominantly over veggies and be safe. Holy SHIT was I wrong.

I had the Mediterranean burrito: grilled chicken, tomatoes, black olives, hummus, black beans, white rice and some sort of sauce on a wheat tortilla. I'm sorry, but that doesn't sound so bad to me. I figured it had maybe 600 calories and 20g of fat, which I can live with for a good sized lunch. Here are the facts: 1129 calories, 46g of fat (13.5 of saturated fat...YIKES) and over 3000mg of sodium...137% of a daily intake. It did have 59g of protein, which is great. But are you serious with these other amounts? A fucking Whopper has less calories (990) and a little more fat (64g). I was just floored when I learned of the nutritional value of what I had just eaten. I mean, it's a little reassuring to know that the entire meal at BK with the Whopper has like 1800 calories, but there I was, thinking that I was eating something that could possibly be considered good for me, totally unbeknownst to the fact that it was worse than a fucking Whopper in some ways. Ridiculous.

I made up for it though. When I got home, I ran five miles and burned 700 of those dastardly calories off. I know what you're thinking here, that I'm watching my weight all of a sudden and counting calories? Well, yeah I am. I was really sick of looking at my hairy gut in the shower and it's become a bit of an obsession now that I've embarked upon a journey for ultimate health. I guess you can't really tackle health in a half-assed manner because it'll defeat the purpose. No matter how much good stuff you consume, if you're also consuming the shit on top of that, you're cancelling out the good stuff. No thanks.

Oh, on this post-Boloco run, I ran past another Boloco up on Huntington Ave by Northeastern and it made me visibly angry. I read the 'Inspired Burritos' line on their sign and I thought, yeah, inspired by a bunch of fat, sweaty dudes in sweat suits who decided to create something that sounded healthy but is actually worse than fast food. Inspired bullshit. Stay away from Boloco. It doesn't even taste that good, so if you're going to go off the caloric deep end, I suggest either Nick's Roast Beef or Burger King. Get your money's worth of shit and make it taste greasy and good. Get that grease running down your face onto your shirt. Let the mayonnaise drip out the ass-end of your sandwich onto your crotch. After that, take the part you're about to bite and actually dip it into a glob of mayo. Hey, we French love mayo on our fries. I used to have mayo on pretty much everything, but I've since smartened up.

In an unrelated story, I'm on the verge of making yet another move in my career. It seems as though the world corporate recruiting is calling me back to its doorstep. I'm much obliged to answer the call, as I really can't stand much more of this banal existence that I'm leading on as type. It's hell. The most exciting part of my day occurs around roughly 930am, when I get the "call to the bullpen", as I like to call it. Then I can go sit in solitude and do part of a sudoku while my system cleanses itself. In the rare event that I get two calls to the bullpen, that is a very special day, my friends. With any luck, I won't have to worry about my commute anymore, or about the lot of worthless individuals that I deal with daily. Sure, there are some people here that offer value but not nearly enough to keep me around. Sorry Tom, no hard feelings...you understand, i know you do. Eat those goji berries, though. You'll live longer. Actually, wait...today had a different highlight to speak of. My boss said I look like Sergeant Slaughter on account of my army green shirt and olive pants, so I took the liberty of drawing some stripes, cutting them out and taping them onto my sleeve. Every time someone came into my cube and asked for something while using my name, I could say, "That's Sgt. Chad to you", or every time Brady addressed me, "That's Sgt. Dickhead to you."

Indeed it is. At ease.