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Posted by on Dec 6, 2012 in Blog, Personal | 5 comments

My Walmart Credit Card Application

Nolan Dalla Humor

 

 

Like most people, I receive unsolicited credit card offers, on occasion.

Whether we like them nor not, credit cards have become a modern-day necessity.  So, I try to maximize their purchasing power by using them to accumulate free airline mileage or bonus cash.

Just about every major retailer now offers either a Visa or MasterCard.  I even received an offer from PetSmart, recently.  PetSmart!  I declined their generous offer.  Sorry kitties, I’m not paying a 23 percent annual interest rate so you can stockpile a cabinet full of Pounce and Whiskas.

The most insulting credit card offers I’ve received are usually by the bottom feeders, which are banks that prey upon the financially insolvent.  These are nothing more than seedy loan sharks masquerading as a major financial institutions.  A typical offer includes a low credit line (sometimes as low as $500), a ridiculous interest rate (typically 29 percent), a preposterous number of penalties if you dare miss a payment or exceed the credit line, and a whopping annual fee.  These dope dealers essentially prey upon the vulnerability of millions of desperate people — including millions of unemployed or under-employed Americans — taking advantage of those who are least able to afford bondage to the banking industry.

When I get these offers in the mail, I have a ritual.  Here’s what I do.

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Posted by on Nov 15, 2012 in Blog, Rants and Raves, Restaurant Reviews | 6 comments

Why the Fuck Can’t I Get a Decent Margarita (A Rant Redux)

A Rant About Margaritas

 

Why’s it so goddamned difficult to get a decent margarita?  I mean, what the fuck!

Its madness!

The recipe is simple.  Simple!   The act of mixing the cocktail isn’t difficult.  But for some reason, which I fail to contemplate, most bars and restaurants — even highly-rated Mexican restaurants — serve shitty-ass margaritas made with no love nor care.  It’s time to start sending these abominations back.  A major education campaign must be launched, and I’m here to do it.

I’ve had it.  I’m livid!

Where’s the pride?  How can an owner, a manager, or a server put out such lackluster product, when a margarita should be the centerpiece attraction?  How does a restaurant keep its doors open using cheap tequila and rock-gut triple sec poured out of pathetic plastic bottles combined with disgusting powder-based mixers and have the audacity to call that a “margarita?”  It’s like putting lipstick on a pig and calling that Anne Hathaway.

Case in point:  Whoever created the margarita pictured in the photo below should never be able to set foot behind a bar again.  Ever!  The criminal should be digging a ditch or serving on a chain gag.  Bitch slap his ass!  I mean, look at this travesty!  And study carefully.  Drop what you are doing and pay attention!

This is important!

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Posted by on Nov 8, 2012 in Blog, Personal | 2 comments

Some Personal Advice — Never Try to Eat Chili While Driving

nolan-dalla-eats-chili

 

I’m one of those drivers you absolutely hate.

I yap on the cell phone while driving.

I text while driving.

I fiddle with the music on my iPod while driving.

I eat while driving — many times with a knife and fork (fortunately, the car has good alignment so I don’t need to have my hands on the wheel).

I used to shave while driving — that was before I quit shaving.

As for drinking while driving, let’s just not go there.  Don’t ask, don’t tell.

But one thing I most certainly will not never do again is eat a bowl of hot chili while driving.

En route from Las Vegas to Lake Tahoe a few days ago, I stopped off in Bishop, CA  There was no way in hell I was going to waste 20 minutes sitting in the restaurant eating, when the more practical thing was to get the food “to go.”  I call this multi-tasking.

Well, you can see what happened from the photo above.  I won’t even show you what my shirt looked like, which now pretty much looks like an infant’s bib.  I dribbled chili all over myself like a two-year-old.  Fortunately, the chili wasn’t steaming hot or it might have burned the family jewels.

Which leads me to wonder — if I scorched my crotch eating hot chili, could I sue the restaurant for a million dollars like the bat-shit crazy hot coffee lady?

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Posted by on Sep 27, 2012 in Blog, Personal, Rants and Raves, Travel | 0 comments

Bathing Beauty — My Rant Against French Hotel Rooms

 

cannes-hotel-photo

 

Americans aren’t going to like what I’m about to say.  But the French do a lot of things much better than we do.

The French are better at cooking.  They make more time to celebrate life.  Their culture exudes extraordinary art and architecture.  Even their dogs have it much better than their American counterparts — as canines are taken everywhere including airports, restaurants, and even fancy hotels.

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Posted by on Sep 18, 2012 in Blog, Rants and Raves | 0 comments

XXX-Rated Curiosity — Who Writes the Smut?

 

porno photo

I wonder if this is a movie about eating hot dogs?

 

It was an accident.

I swear.  An accident.

While sitting in my hotel room alone late at night with the remote control in hand, I must have punched the wrong number.

It can happen to anyone, right?

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