Some particulars can be known with out the troubles of dismantling an entire edifice. This DIY Shower Temperature Gauge (Version 0.1) /hack/ allows you to not only know when it's reached optimum conditions but aides in identifying the exact temperature for your most pleasurable shower.
Parts
1/2" Threaded Tee
1/2" 4" Nipple
1/2" Threaded-Slip 90
1/2" Threaded Plug
1/2" Threaded Male Adapter
1/2" PVC
Digital Thermometer
Silicone
Thread Tape
PVC Primer/Glue
[Note] Project in operation photographs coming soon.
[Note] A non-destructive automated Arudino temperature controlled project has been designed and is currently pending funding.
Parts
1/2" Threaded Tee
1/2" 4" Nipple
1/2" Threaded-Slip 90
1/2" Threaded Plug
1/2" Threaded Male Adapter
1/2" PVC
Digital Thermometer
Silicone
Thread Tape
PVC Primer/Glue
[Note] Project in operation photographs coming soon.
[Note] A non-destructive automated Arudino temperature controlled project has been designed and is currently pending funding.
Best Value - Del Taco
Best Quality - Carls Jr.
Best Item - Jack in the Box's Oreo Cookie Shake
Best Interior - Carls Jr.
Honorable Mention - Panda Express
Worst Value - McDonald's "Dollar" Menu
Worst Quality - Taco Bell
Worst Item - White Castle Sliders
Worst Interior - McDonald's "Cafe" Style
No Honorable Mention - Portillo's
Best Quality - Carls Jr.
Best Item - Jack in the Box's Oreo Cookie Shake
Best Interior - Carls Jr.
Honorable Mention - Panda Express
Worst Value - McDonald's "Dollar" Menu
Worst Quality - Taco Bell
Worst Item - White Castle Sliders
Worst Interior - McDonald's "Cafe" Style
No Honorable Mention - Portillo's
No longer will your face suffer from cross contamination with your anus, crotch or feet after a refreshing shower with the OC Towel. If you're like we, you take stock in the things you touch and using a towel more than once can be a crap shoot. Know where you've been with this ergonomically silk screened symbolic bath towel.
Photographs below represent a first draft with (2) printing errors:
(a) Awry thirds dividing line
(b) Crooked leg brand
Photographs below represent a first draft with (2) printing errors:
(a) Awry thirds dividing line
(b) Crooked leg brand
Genghis Grill
4722 East Cactus Road
Phoenix, Arizona, North America
85032
Date: 13:30 323/073
Genre: Mongolian BBQ
Serving: 12.95$ (Large Bowel)
A "please wait to be seated" sign greeted me at the door of this much quieter and more spacious environment as compared to the fast food thematics of YC's Mongolian Grill (see Assessment) which instantaneously bestowed confidence in a more aspired to dining experience. There, is where it was set ablaze and stomped out like a paper bag of feces on my tongue's door step. The waitress, Tiffany, a bubbly attractive red headed friendly sort, perhaps too friendly from boredom, advised me of the absurd process. You take a small card and write your name on it and for those who follow me on Twitter know, I despise surrendering my name to unknowns. You then take this card with you to the buffet table where you are greeted with another person who "advises" you.
The meat assortments are plenty and slightly obscure. Beef sirloin in cubes or shredded. Turkey chunks and miscellaneous porks. Seafood of the colorless variety that would beckon to ask, which is which? Then, a vast array of powder seasonings, which I deplore in this style of cuisine. Mongolian is about coverage by sauce, not dashed by dust. Vegetables, adequate. The sauce, the core of the reason to briefly vacation here, is the true test of a proper establishment. Here, they urge you to use ramekins for your sauce, discouraging you from gorging. The few sauce selections were specific to completion, unlike (all) alternative establishments where you concoct your own arrangement. This, is utter horse shit. I might as well have ordered some thing from a menu to procure the same result...which by the by, they do offer as an option. You may check off a series of boxes on a door hanger and the waitress will attend to it for your pathetic lethargic obese self.
The chef was a small white woman, which is immediately discouraging (ref. any man's opinion on female grilling). Then, I am again seated. The significant flaw here is that one of the persuasive ambiance elements of Mongolian BBQ is seeing your food cooked on the specific stone fired circular hibachi grill. Walking away from this and from your food is a distracting let down. The waitress brings you your bowl which has grown exponentially as they have piled your grilled items (burnt this go, obviously set too long, see above) atop a heaping mound of hidden rice. I prefer my rice segregated so that soy sauce is the prominent seasoning, as often a cooling apparatus. Instead, I am left with an excessive bowl of a most disappointing burnt and bland flavor. The generosity of rice is deceptive towards the regards of your grilled items which are speckled through out the rice as it's consumed, then lost and abandoned if unable to finish.
To compound this horrid food are small electronic tablets on the table pitching you complimentary items as if website advertisements, to which you may order alcoholic beverages or products. Had it not been lunch, the uncommon and welcomed full bar would have been taken advantaged of in order to dissuade my senses of the remainder of this awful consumption experience.
Rating:
4722 East Cactus Road
Phoenix, Arizona, North America
85032
Date: 13:30 323/073
Genre: Mongolian BBQ
Serving: 12.95$ (Large Bowel)
A "please wait to be seated" sign greeted me at the door of this much quieter and more spacious environment as compared to the fast food thematics of YC's Mongolian Grill (see Assessment) which instantaneously bestowed confidence in a more aspired to dining experience. There, is where it was set ablaze and stomped out like a paper bag of feces on my tongue's door step. The waitress, Tiffany, a bubbly attractive red headed friendly sort, perhaps too friendly from boredom, advised me of the absurd process. You take a small card and write your name on it and for those who follow me on Twitter know, I despise surrendering my name to unknowns. You then take this card with you to the buffet table where you are greeted with another person who "advises" you.
The meat assortments are plenty and slightly obscure. Beef sirloin in cubes or shredded. Turkey chunks and miscellaneous porks. Seafood of the colorless variety that would beckon to ask, which is which? Then, a vast array of powder seasonings, which I deplore in this style of cuisine. Mongolian is about coverage by sauce, not dashed by dust. Vegetables, adequate. The sauce, the core of the reason to briefly vacation here, is the true test of a proper establishment. Here, they urge you to use ramekins for your sauce, discouraging you from gorging. The few sauce selections were specific to completion, unlike (all) alternative establishments where you concoct your own arrangement. This, is utter horse shit. I might as well have ordered some thing from a menu to procure the same result...which by the by, they do offer as an option. You may check off a series of boxes on a door hanger and the waitress will attend to it for your pathetic lethargic obese self.
The chef was a small white woman, which is immediately discouraging (ref. any man's opinion on female grilling). Then, I am again seated. The significant flaw here is that one of the persuasive ambiance elements of Mongolian BBQ is seeing your food cooked on the specific stone fired circular hibachi grill. Walking away from this and from your food is a distracting let down. The waitress brings you your bowl which has grown exponentially as they have piled your grilled items (burnt this go, obviously set too long, see above) atop a heaping mound of hidden rice. I prefer my rice segregated so that soy sauce is the prominent seasoning, as often a cooling apparatus. Instead, I am left with an excessive bowl of a most disappointing burnt and bland flavor. The generosity of rice is deceptive towards the regards of your grilled items which are speckled through out the rice as it's consumed, then lost and abandoned if unable to finish.
To compound this horrid food are small electronic tablets on the table pitching you complimentary items as if website advertisements, to which you may order alcoholic beverages or products. Had it not been lunch, the uncommon and welcomed full bar would have been taken advantaged of in order to dissuade my senses of the remainder of this awful consumption experience.
Rating:
