Song of the Day (9/5/2017)

Today’s song of the day is Because the Night by 10,000 Maniacs.  Now for some brief food porn:

And an amazing Seinfeld callout:

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Schadenfreude 101

First off, a little photo:

And now an article from Bloomberg.  “That sounds like another one of those gradeless, structureless, new age feel-gooderies.” – Michael Bluth

Startup Juicero Shutters Operations and Seeks a Buyer

By Eric Newcomer
September 1, 2017, 2:37 PM EDT September 1, 2017, 3:35 PM EDT

Juicero Inc., the vegetable and fruit juice startup that raised more than $100 million from investors, said it will suspend sales, offer refunds to customers and search for a buyer for the company.

The decision to shut down its business comes four months after a Bloomberg News report that the company’s juice packets could be squeezed by hand and didn’t require Juicero’s machine, which cost $400. The machine had previously sold for $700, before the price cut.

Juicero announced the decision in a statement Friday posted on its website. “It became clear that creating an effective manufacturing and distribution system for a nationwide customer base requires infrastructure that we cannot achieve on our own as a standalone business,” the San Francisco-based company said. Chief Executive Officer Jeff Dunn announced in July that the company would cut 25 percent of its staff, primarily in sales and marketing, and try to lower the price of its machine and juice packs.

Alphabet’s venture arm GV, Kleiner Perkins Caufield & Byers, Artis Ventures and Josh Kushner’s Thrive Capital are among the startups investors.

Some investors hoped the company’s internet-connected machine would do for juice what the Keurig, a coffee maker that required customers to keep buying its cartridges, did for coffee. Juicero sold its expensive juicer promising force “enough to lift two Teslas” along with packets of juice costing $5 to $7 each.

Juicero’s founder Doug Evans boasted about the technical complexity of the company’s juicer. “There are 400 custom parts in here,” he told Recode. “There’s a scanner; there’s a microprocessor; there’s a wireless chip, wireless antenna.”

Bloomberg revealed in an April article, accompanied by video evidence, that the juice machine was hardly a necessity since the packets could be more quickly squeezed by hand.

Juicero said Friday that it will offer refunds of its presses for the next 90 days. Pack subscriptions are ending the week of Sept. 4. Fortune earlier reported Juicero’s decision to cease operations.

“As we enter this new chapter, we also want to express the deepest gratitude to our employees who have poured their hearts and souls into developing, launching and growing Juicero over the past 3 years,” the company said in its statement.

Random Bidtits (8/30/2017)

Banging through some life observations and cool shit from the last few weeks:

1)  Here is an article from the Wall Street Journal with some stunning photos of undersea life: Into the Deep: The Underwater Photography Awards.

2)  Here is an article from The New Yorker that is absolutely worth your time but will take a while to get through: Donald Trump’s Ghostwriter Tells All.  You won’t find a single surprise throughout the article.  Orange you glad I found this?

3)  Incoming book recommendation!  As a rule, I typically don’t read self-help books but this one came strongly recommended and I pass that on to you.  It’s: The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F*ck: A Counterintuitive Approach to Living a Good Life by Mark Manson.  It’s a quick read and worth your time if you’re open minded.  Check out the Amazon reviews in the link.  I finished this last week after reading four Agatha Christie books last month.  Yes, Agatha Christie is the Goosebumps of adulthood but it’s easy and light and quick.  I did see a great Arrested Development shout out in the back of one of her books (also, look at those prices!):

And the Arrested Development connection:

4)  Quick, somewhat terrifying side note.  I cringe when I see the words “clinger” and “loosening” used in the same sentence:

5)  I spent last weekend in the back country of Virginia and West Virginia and it was absolutely gorgeous.  World renowned white water rafting, spelunking, The Greenbrier (including A TRUE CROQUET COURT!!!), the Omni and it’s surrounding thermal springs, and the New River Gorge Bridge (as seen on the back of the West Virginia quarter).  The Greenbrier is well worth your time.  However, there was some subtle racism under the banner of “southern charm”:

Which in reality looked like this:

There was also a memorial highway in honor of the armed forces…sponsored by the one and only West Virginia Garden Club, Inc.  You know, that’s an obvious overlap.

Also came across a new food group that may need to replace pork rinds at our next bro-get-together:

As well as a gas station WITH RACING FUEL:

And the nerdiest corner I’ve ever walked into:

My neckbeard grew three sizes that day.

6)  And finally, I saw the license plate below which reminded me of a terrific scene from Family Guy.

Faith Tells Me That No Matter What Lies Ahead of Me, Reagan is Already There

Hooded Man #2: Have we started the fire?…  Bane: Yes. The [Reagan] rises. 

And finally.  My tomato garden has sprouted a va-jay:

Earlier in the harvest at a vegetable staff meeting to discuss the vegetable, fruit, and bacterial culture, Arianna Huffington, another pear, talked about how one tomato vagina on a plot often leads to more tomato vaginas joining a garden.

“Actually, what it shows is that it’s much more likely to be more talking,” Mr. Bonderman, resident anise, responded.

¡¡¡Happy Cinco De Mayo Veinte Diecisiete!!! (and Arrested Development)

Wishing everyone a warm and fuzzy Cinco De Mayo.

Okay, lot to cover here, so time to play ketchup.   In the spirit of Mexican heritage, I’m throwing up a massive text wall.  Don’t like it?  This posting just got 2 paragraphs longer.  More than once in my life, I’ve been told that from time to time I can be mildly insensitive to other cultures and ways of life.  Bullshit, but okay.  It’s Cinco De Mayo and I’d like to make good on appreciating other cultures, so today’s song of the day is Right Now by Psy (don’t be a dick, give the song a chance, it’s good).  Much better than the golden oldies song that came on this morning where the main course is “baaa ba-ba ba-baaaaa, I knowwww you..” – if this were the Middle East, I’d get stoned if I were caught singing this to my male friends.  They’re a very literal people.

As many of you know, I’m an absolute dios when it comes to Heroes of the Storm (“HOTS” for anyone who can throw a spiral or doesn’t suffer from asthma and backne).  Back in December, before evvvverything changed when Trump was inaugurated, I went into a game as Chogall, stacking party-of-five XP bonuses on top of the holiday XP bonuses, among others.  Had my first and only 500,000+ XP game.  You better fucking believe that print screen found its way onto the watermark on my resume.  Employers dig teamwork, persistence, and originality.  I have yet to get any calls back.  Not unlike:

Anyway, back to snapping the suspenders of the Mexican people.  I recently had a game of HOTS where I was Chogall and working in close tandem with a teammate from Mexico, or Portugal, down old South America way.

Roughly translated, Sabaoth’s first two constructive messages to me are 1) Chogal, fuck you shit, and 2) I give you a whore.  It may sound border-line (ugh) adversarial, but I think we had some good communication that game, a real productive tete-a-tete.  Look a few lines up and you find the most important message.  At all costs.  Protect.  The fucking.  Healing fountain.

I’m getting lazy today and have to get back to work (“They’ve got a bus, and they want to use parking lot to this building as a meeting place.  I mean, for God’s sake, it’s not a hardware store.  We can’t have them hanging around like a bunch of freeloaders looking for an easy buck.” – Lucille Bluth).  Spent too long on my last two posts: to quote a buddy, “your latest blog has so much packed in there you’d think it was Bruce Jenner post-op.”  Biting social commentary…even in its brevity, and like the woman, it still has a lot of meat on it.

Here are my relevant Arrested Development photos for Cinco:

Two tips of the day.  1) Raspberries and diet coke: best combination you’ve ever had.  Pop a few raspberries in your mouth and take a swig of the diet coke – it’s AMAZING.  2) People like Nutella on toast (although my readership seems to be white bread).  Put 2-3 Reese’s peanut butter eggs on a toasted bagel and make a sandwich of it, it’s INCREDIBLE.  Bonus recommendation from my cigarette-smoking-man/friend: chew on Icebreakers mints while smoking cigarettes – better tasting than menthol cigarettes.  I must admit that I’ve had my share of cigarettes in my day, but after watching Hans Landa in the following, I’m never putting another wimpy-ass f*g in my mouth again:

Alright, time for me to get back to HOTS before this American Health Care Act beats a path through the senate floor.  My go-to character, Chogall, has a bit of a limp and I’m worried about playing him with his preexisting condition.

Ohio is for Lovers…and Crippling Economic Realities

It’s not often you get to drive through Ohio and bear witness to humanity’s shortcomings.  Who drives through Ohio.  But when you do make it to the state that’s fatter and not nearly as tall as you think, the experiences stick with you like Cleveland and it’s crippling 40 year recession.  However, to begin, one must admit that Ohio does have some interesting shit, namely food.  Last night I ate at Melt Bar and Grilled and enjoyed the Wet Hot Buffalo Chicken:

Oh my gosh, this is one of the best sandwiches I’ve had.  But like any good high, there’s an equivalent low not far behind it.  This morning, I woke up, made it 30 feet to the bathroom in about 4 steps, slammed the “Play Like a Champion Today” sign above my bathroom door, and mounted the throne with unapologetic fury.  What was to come is for my private enjoyment only.  However, I’ll note that you would not be wrong to make the comparison to Moses parting the Red Sea.  Don’t drink the water in Lake Erie for a while.

I’ve always felt that the great people of Ohio suffer from bouts of hubris, although not NEARLY to the same extent as Bostononians.  Fuck you, Boston.  Your city is tiny, your infrastructure sucks, your welfare system is in disarray, your reliance on sports is laughable, and your loss in prominence to New York brings me boundless joy.  You did this to yourself.  Anyway, the whole “O-H…I-OOOOO” thing has to be stopped.  You’re tying your self importance to a FUCKING PUBLIC COLLEGE SPORTS TEAM.  Don’t you have anything else on which to hang your hat?…

Well, add insult to injury because I came across the following the other day:




The people (and unfortunately, voters) of this state manage to find a new way to embarrass themselves each time I visit.  It’s like they’ve hidden an RFID tag on my car and each time I enter beneath the:


the citizens of the state jump in a group chat and figure out how they’re going to humiliate themselves next.  When they’re not shaming themselves, they’re abusing the welfare system like it’s NBD.  Here’s a guy on a rather unique vehicle that had a handicap sticker:


I don’t know about you, but the handicapped people I know tend to not throttle around on the back of a motorcycle in a leather jacket and matching boots.

OH SNAP!!!!  I nearly forgot.  Fuck me, I’m always forgetting to celebrate feminism on this blog.  First the woman’s march, then the woman’s strike, and now this:


They’re called secretaries.  Get it right or pay the price (HUGE throwback to Salute Your Shorts from the early nineties here; I expect a handjob from at least a few of you after making this connection).  Speaking of bad names:

What do we have here?  We have an article on a state senator named Frank Artiles (aka Fart Projectiles) written by a undoubtedly blonde-haired Hitler youth who got her “degree” in journalism from Camp Flowers.  Keep student debt levels exceedingly high, major in journalism.

Thought I bumped into Kurt Russell last night:



Before I forget, to all my bad hombres in finance who’ve begun to create the next generation of financiers, there’s a Powerwheels-like Rolls Royce that you need to get your children, now.  Don’t let your children fall behind in this new global economy.  Buy them the Rolls, forbid them from anything to do with journalism or Boston.  They’ll be better people for it.



And finally, we arrive at the end of this aimless rant.  Arrested Development.  Likely a hair above (Stan Sitwell’s always had a wild hair to buy this business, it’s the only hair he’s got…what, he’s an alpaca!) Seinfeld, and on equivalent ground with the original (but revised format) British Top Gear.  Here’s an Arrested Development reference you’ll all appreciate:


“Your father says he wants me to go all the way to Fallujah.  I thought he meant the sex act, that’s so popular with your generation” – Lucille Bluth

Hot Sauce, Home Eats, and Hymens (and Arrested Development)

Bitch, please…  I’ve wanted to say that all day.  You all need to go out and buy this Walkerswood Jonkanoo Seriously Hot Jamaican Pepper Sauce.  Pretty hot at first but as you get half way through the bottle on day two or three, you’ll get used to it and fall in love.

Last night, I used some of this stuff on the following dish made with frozen chicken breast, lasagna-style pasta, frozen veggies, yellow mustard, and the hot sauce.  Sprinkled with excessive amounts of oregano because that’s how we do in high finance.  See photo below:

And with this dish, I graduate from “cook” to “chef.”  I don’t mind if my readers steal my recipe, although I am accepting gratuities via Venmo.  Hit me up, bro.

Oh!  I promised you a hymen reference:

Does anyone else share my concern that if we don’t heed Hyman’s prophetic warnings, we risk a messy blowup in an Eastern Asian society already short on Hymans?  Or would someone like to take the other side of the argument and tear Hyman a new one?  You know what they say, there’s only one rule in finance: buy when there’s blood on the sheets.  Period.

Was in Los Angeles last weekend where I believe they recently legalized Mary Jane.  During my visit, I took an Uber from an hombre with the following name:

I knew California had a massive problem with Dro coming over the boarder…  Dro over the boarder begets more Dro over the boarder.  #MAGA (although seriously, Trump is just an assclown in shit eater’s clothing).  I also spotted this car while in Los Angeles:

Best. Car. Ever.  Makes me want to go home and watch Blues Brothers rather than sit here at the office and procrastinate on the blog, musing about cheap eats and attacking Hyman while I daydream about…attacking Hymen.

Oh snap!  I nearly forgot about the Arrested Development quote I found today:

And the reference:

It’s not like I’m saying I KILLED EARL MILFORD.

And I leave you with a memorandum for a company we considered buying for all of two minutes.  Something doesn’t seem quite right with the data in the below:

And it seems the management team really, really, really likes men: