Best Saturday Ever

Yesterday was an especially nice Saturday. The sun broke out at the end of the long, wet run with great friends who uncharacteristically didn’t complain about the elements. The YMCA hot tub was glorious. Fully recovered, I picked up some raspberry chocolate and deep chocolate chocolate gelato and other essentials, before heading home for a late breakfast and hit of caffeine.

Then I put an ass groove in the couch watching the pros flail at Pinehurst #2. “How do you like making double bogey sucker!”

Then I connected with the GalPal and got fully updated on the Coffee Klatch. Then we rolled down the hill to Well 80 where I ate an order of brussels sprouts and a whole pizza. And maybe a little of someone’s Impossible Burger. Of course I positioned myself so I could watch the Mariners win again and further extend their American League West lead without the GoodWife suspecting a thing. “Yes dear, you don’t say.” Inner voice, “Come on Julio, where’s the power?!” The American League West is one sad (sick) division, but I digress.

Then I prepped a giant bowl of popcorn and watched episode 3 of the second season of Netflix’s Tour de France documentary which taught me sprinters are not likable.

But of all of those highlights, one towered above the others. It was this discovery.

Are you shitting me? Kirkland Rolled Oats (KRO)?! I thought I’d died and gone to heaven. Good riddance Quaker Oats, oh ye of the .62 cents per ounce. These babies are .50 cents per ounce! For the numerically challenged, that’s .12 cents an ounce cheaper. I eat 8 ounces of oats about 6x/week. The Kirkland Rolled Oats nutrition info says 1/2 a cup is 40g. So when we convert my 80g into ounces we get 2.8. Then we multiply that by our savings of .12 and get a grand total of 33.6 cents saved. Every damn morning. Costco for the win! And Ron!

In a few days, after I’ve finished all the remaining Quaker Oats, I will launch Operation KRO which consists of three phases. Phase one, invest my KRO savings in NVDA. Phase two, in a year or so, sell all my NVDA. Phase three, buy this.

Don’t hate me because you ain’t me.

My New Thang—Avocados

Early in my dad’s business career he sold appliances for General Electric. Every year we got one new one, including allegedly, the first trash compactor in the country. And for some reason only my mom could probably explain, every last appliance was avocado green. Turns out those early avocado green kitchens did a number on my subconscious because recently I’ve turned into an avocado eating machine, putting them on damn near everything, as if I’m making up for lost time.

So I got a kick out of this, “Your New Avocado: An FAQ“.

Below is a picture of today’s breakfast bowl of oatmeal which lies buried underneath the red and late 1960’s kitchen appliance green fruit goodness. Some mornings I borrow from professional cycling chefs and sub in two fried eggs. And always, I top everything off with a little butter and a lot of Kirkland Saigon Cinnamon (Costco doesn’t pay me for these egregious product placements, but they should).

Today’s philosophical question. At what point does the balance tip towards the add-ins and I can no longer accurately describe my breakfast as a bowl of oatmeal? That’s what philosophers refer to as a “Seinfeld episode worthy” question.

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That’s right, even our kitchen bowls are avocado green.