Albertson's has some of the worst fake crab I had ever had. Every now and then I like to get a pile of fake crab for lunch. It's delicious
it's packed with omega-3's so its good for you
and its dirt cheap. Sometimes you can find it as cheap as $1.99 a pound.
I had a tough time finding some at Albertson's. Oddly enough the only package of it I found was some stray pre-wrapped package that someone had dropped in the beef cooler by mistake. Since it was the only one in the store
I went ahead and grabbed it. It turned out to be pretty bad
though. It was not rancid or anything like that… It was just too wet and juicy. Good fake crab should be firm and tender and while it should be moist
it should not be soggy. This stuff was soggy
and when I pulled it out of the package it dripped behind little puddle of fish juice.
I also grabbed a few of their poorboy sandwiches. Some people roll their eyes that I buy these things. They are made out of the bread that does not sell and the nub ends of lunchmeat and cheese they have to get rid of before it goes bad. That is the reason they are only $1.25 for a decent sized sandwich. I have never gotten one that actually had bad meat or anything
and if you pop one in the toaster oven for a few minutes it makes a cheap and delicious lunch.
After work I dropped by radio shack so I could pick up a new backup battery for my dreamwriter. While I was there I noticed they had some little book lights on sale for $3.00. Since my dreamwriter is not backlit and I have a hard time reading it in dark places
I went ahead and grabbed one. The salesman at the Radio Shack looked like someone had tried to clone Ichabob Crane but had spilled a bunch of Chinese genes in the cloning tube. When he rang up my purchase he rang up the book light as being eight dollars.
"Hey
I said
The little sign says they are on sale for three dollars."
"That is only for the green ones." He said sullenly.
"What's the difference?" I asked.
"It's green."
So I rolled my eyes and went and grabbed a green one instead. You would have thought I had asked him to help me load up a moving truck by the sigh he let out when I asked for my five-dollar refund.
Afterwards I headed down to the pub and worked on my short story. It's a good one
I got half of it done there. I am going to try and finish it up this weekend.
They are not letting dogs into The Hen anymore. Apparently there were too many 'accidents' that the dog patrons would not clean up. That's too bad. I liked seeing the friendly dogs in there.
The bartender was nice to me as always. I never have to ask for another beer
she always comes and serves it to me with a big smile and a blouseful of boobage. She empties my ashtray and wipes my table. Makes me feel like a king. Of course I tip her really good
perhaps too much
but it's worth it.
That hermit zit inside of my nose was driving me crazy yesterday. It made my entire nose painful to touch
and towards the late afternoon I swear I was feeling it throb in my teeth. Even though I could not see anything in the mirror
I would have swore it was emitting a red light like it was radioactive. I have never had a zit that painful in my life.
So last night after I got back from the Hen
fueled with the courage that only three pints of harps can bring
I decided I would try and pop it. I stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom and struck a Herculean stance with a couple of fingers up my nose. Taking a deep breath I let loose a Celtic war cry and SQUEEZED.
The pain was awful. It exploded across my face like a spiderweb of agony. Tears squeezed from my eye and I felt my knees shake. I did not feel anything pop. All I got for my effort was a small trickle of blood. This morning it is scabbed up
but I guess something must have leaked out during the night because the pressure is gone and the pain has lessoned. Now I just have to keep myself from picking at the scab. Not an easy task.
After that task I ate a half of loaf of garlic bread for dinner and fell asleep watching 'Con Air'. I am surprised they got so many brand-name actors to star in that cheesy movie.
Not sure what the weekend will bring. I know I want to take my boat out one day. Perhaps on Sunday. Other than that I am just going to be puttering around the house.
2026 Update
Dialing the clock to a Friday when fake crab and a radioactive nose zit were the great dramas.
Radio Shack is a ghost, and the Dreamwriter is the kind of antique you'd find on a shelf labeled 'vintage word processors' next to a fax machine. Fake crab is no longer a $1.99 bargain; it's a 'premium alternative seafood product' in a sealed tray with a QR code that wants you to join a rewards club. The book light problem has been solved by every phone having a flashlight that's far too bright to read by. Even the hermit zit would now be handled by a telehealth doctor who tells you to video chat in better lighting. And the pub—well, the ashtrays are gone, the smoking section is a patio with a heat lamp, and dogs only get in if they're on a leash and posing for Instagram. The bartender still smiles, but she's probably also managing the bar's TikTok. You were living in a simpler, smellier era, Ed, and I miss it the way I miss the smell of a freshly printed Circuit City receipt.
“2006 Ed, was there a moment during your Herculean nose-zit assault when you thought about seeing a doctor, or did the three pints of Harps make that impossible?” — Beelzebubba the Third
2006 Ed: Well, Beelzebubba, I’d love to say I gave the doctor a second’s thought, but the Harps had that decision pretty much made for me. Three pints in, I was a medical pioneer, not a patient. Standing there in the bathroom with two fingers up my nose, I figured I was one good squeeze away from glory, or at least from not having a throb in my teeth anymore. The idea of driving to some clinic and explaining, “Yes, sir, there’s a zit in my nose and it’s radioactive,” seemed a little too droll even for me. Plus, doctors cost money, and I’d just spent my savings on bargain crab and a book light. So no, no doctor. I squeezed, I cried, I bled a trickle, and I woke up with a scab. Take that, foul zit.
