Friday, May 8, 2009
Days of the Week
The following days shall be dubbed the following, according to prophesy.
Mondays - "Manic Mondays"
Tuesdays - (up for suggestions)
Wednesdays - (to be decided)
Thursdays - "Anything can happen Thursdays" (from Big Bang Theory)
Fridays - "What's that from Fridays" or "See What Happens Fridays"
Remember to vote for your favorite!
Mondays - "Manic Mondays"
Tuesdays - (up for suggestions)
Wednesdays - (to be decided)
Thursdays - "Anything can happen Thursdays" (from Big Bang Theory)
Fridays - "What's that from Fridays" or "See What Happens Fridays"
Remember to vote for your favorite!
Thursday, May 7, 2009
Monday, May 4, 2009
Friday, May 1, 2009
Is this technically "lunch blog?"
Well, this is one of the worst things I’ve seen in my life:
Yup, Sweet Sue’s homestyle country goodness: an entire chicken in an effing can. Everything about this screams “homestyle” — I’ll never forget on my grandpa’s farm those mornings when we’d wake up at the crack of dawn, scoop up the freshest eggs you’ve ever tasted from the henhouse, then cram fifty of them at a time into a can against all that is natural, seal the can, then take the can to our breakfast table and take turns drinking directly from it, until we realized how horrible it was and immediately stopped doing it and agreed we were stupid.
After the jump, a picture of the actual chicken itself. DO NOT CLICK if you’re squeamish, or have eaten lunch within the past lifetime. It’s not quite Faceless Cat territory, but holy lord is it close:
It’s like a Ridley Scott alien took a dump that had a little baby alien stuck in it, threw everything in a can, then opened the can a month later and turned it upside down.
If this is somehow one of your guerrilla tactics to make us all puke, PETA, then well played.
Yup, Sweet Sue’s homestyle country goodness: an entire chicken in an effing can. Everything about this screams “homestyle” — I’ll never forget on my grandpa’s farm those mornings when we’d wake up at the crack of dawn, scoop up the freshest eggs you’ve ever tasted from the henhouse, then cram fifty of them at a time into a can against all that is natural, seal the can, then take the can to our breakfast table and take turns drinking directly from it, until we realized how horrible it was and immediately stopped doing it and agreed we were stupid.
After the jump, a picture of the actual chicken itself. DO NOT CLICK if you’re squeamish, or have eaten lunch within the past lifetime. It’s not quite Faceless Cat territory, but holy lord is it close:
It’s like a Ridley Scott alien took a dump that had a little baby alien stuck in it, threw everything in a can, then opened the can a month later and turned it upside down.
If this is somehow one of your guerrilla tactics to make us all puke, PETA, then well played.
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