I Would Like To……

I would like to dip Paula Deen in butter, roll her in flour and then drop her into a huge deep-fat fryer.

Then, once cooked, slice her into little bite-sized pieces and feed all the hungry kids in the world.  I’m sure she would taste like a yummy, plump chicken.

I would like to make people understand that praying does absolutely nothing and waving your hands to the sky only makes birds and aliens very nervous.

Thanks a lot religious freaks, I’ve been waiting for years to be captured by aliens and taken away from this planet.

I would like to lock all the Kardashians in a rubber-walled room with three dictionaries and see who figures out how to open it first. Continue reading

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General Tso, who are you???

Wikepedia describes you as a general who lived in Xiangyin during the 1800’s, yet the dish named after you was never eaten there, nor anywhere else near your city. What gives General? Who are you General? The world wants to know. The “chef’s special” wants to know. The mall food court wants to know who you are.

I would be pissed if I were you, General. Did you not realize that your legacy has been immortalized into bits of deep, fried unidentifiable meat products? Some say chicken. Some say beef. Some say cat or dog. How does that feel General? Being named after odd meats dipped in mono-sodium glutamate filled batter isn’t exactly a royal homecoming. No awards for you General.

What horrible things were you responsible for General? Were you the village idiot? Did you cruise your village playgrounds wearing a creepy overcoat, exposing yourself to all the little generals playing cops and robbers? Or were you the victim of ill timed nepotism? Continue reading

French Class (I will be taking Spanish next year)

First Day of Class

When I was a freshman in high school my French teacher told me that she had heard from someone that I could be smart if only I tried harder. At first I was not too sure how to absorb that statement. Sure it was somewhat of a cruel thing to say to a high school freshman, but maybe she had a good reason for delivering this statement to me in front of my entire class.

She didn’t even bother to tell me this with the professionalism I expected from an overweight, boring French teacher. She delivered the line with a smugness that could only be replicated by true, obnoxious euro-trash. (Stereotyping people of all nationalities was a popular thing for me at that time in my life.)

I would have preferred maybe some informal meeting before or after class, but she decided to exhibit her power and embarrass me in front of the class. I now was left wondering who this mysterious “someone” was who had informed my French teacher of my intellectual potential only two weeks into the semester. Continue reading

Bradentucky Seafood Festival; the land of white trash

“Deprived of meaningful work, men and women lose their reason for existence; they go stark, raving mad.” Fyodor Dostoevsky

A man wearing only one flip flop, sits slumped over on a bench resting the side of his head on a oak tree about 20 feet from the main stage.  He is wearing a black shirt with a red confederate flag on the front that says, “You’ve got your X, we’ve got ours.”

There are other men in only slightly better condition standing behind him drinking Budweiser from cans and  smoking pot from a one-hitter that slides into a belt buckle.  Behind them, a normal looking mom and dad with three young sons eat fried foods on extra-large toothpicks.

The weather is beautiful.  It’s about 80 degrees, sunny with no clouds and very little humidity.  The kind of weather that keeps the tourists around until the snow melts in their northern hometowns.  The kind of weather that keeps the tourists clogging my streets while I try not to succumb to massive road rage.

“If I leave here tomorrow, would you still remember me,” is the Lynyrd Skynrd song being played by the band.  About 25 to 30 people attempt to dance to the country anthem, but really just sway back and forth spilling beer on their feet without a care.  A rough, biker looking couple wades through the crowd with a pet python wrapped around both of their necks.  Little children run up to pet it, while others run away and grab their mother’s legs. Continue reading

Jude the Hipster Buys Condoms

Well, I enjoy poking fun at hipsters so I decided to start a series of hipster posts about Jude the Hipster and his adventures in every day life.

In this episode, Jude the Hipster buys some condoms.

Characters:

Jude– the Hipster, no description necessary

Sara– the Drug Store Clerk, about 22 years old and very, very average looking.

Fade In:  A typical Walgreens drug store in a slightly urban, but not too urban area.  Jude, wearing corduroys, a super tight shirt that says OBAMA ROCKS and a sporty purple fedora, walks into the store and heads directly to the pharmacy in the back to buy some condoms, but he has several questions for Sara the clerk.

Jude- (with confidence) Hi there.  I was wondering if could answer a couple questions for me about your prophylactic products.

Sara- (a little embarrassed) Sure, I guess.  I will do the best I can.

Jude- (stroking his ironic mustache) Great.  Well, I like to hang out downtown and I drink a lot of craft beer.

Just last night I tried a wonderful Belgian IPA that tasted like hops that only Bavarian Monks could produce.  Anyway, I digress.

Drinking a lot, coupled with my fancy mustache, I always tend to, you know, attract the ladies.  Do you get my drift???

Sara- (feeling uncomfortable)  I guess, what exactly is your question? Continue reading

Dear Chris Christie (letter from a Duh’Merican)

chris-christie-eating

(Thought I would re-post this given the current debacle he’s in.  I actually heard him say that he found out about everything after he finished “working out.”  Yeah right.)

Are you really going to be running for President in 2016?  Are you really going to be the face of the Republican Party?

Well, I guess you are a fairly accurate representation of the American people.  After all, I think it’s being reported that around 36% of all American adults aged 20 and over are considered obese.

Even after your lap-band surgery, you still appear to be almost morbidly obese.  But there is plenty of time for you to “de-supersize” yourself before you make a bid for the presidency.

I’m not sure what it says about a person who has to have a band surgically implanted around their stomach to curb their voracious appetite.  This apparent lack of self control makes me a bit worried about how you may behave yourself if elected President.

Forget about religion and gay marriage, let’s talk about GMO’s and large sodas.  Yippeeee.

Could you imagine the power you would have?  You could have sexy hookers feed you chicken wings while they dancing naked around your own personal “oral”, I mean oval office. Continue reading

Extra Mayo

arbys_philly_beef_02When I asked for extra mayo on the side, she stared at me with those banjo eyes.  You know the eyes I mean.

The eyes that seem to be much farther apart than they should be.  Eyes that have watched cousins touch each other in the dark, warm areas only non-relatives should be allowed to touch.

Her quizzical expression reminded me of how a squirrel’s mind must feel when it crosses the road in front of a car safely, then darts back from where he came from. But her expression was far less urgent than the squirrel narrowly escaping death.

“Extra mayo?  You sure about that,” she said with a southern baptist twang.

“Absolutely dear.  Haven’t you ever had mayo on a philly cheese steak?” I answered a bit angrily.

And why did she give a shit about my mayo ordering habits?  After all, this was an Applebees in the deep south and not exactly a bastion for health nuts.  I naturally assumed that mayo was quite popular here. Continue reading