So Long, And Thanks For All The Internets

Well, folks, it's all over for me. It's the end of the road, but it's been a fun journey. We've had some good laughs, some good pixels, some good internets, but all rides come to an end. Unfortunately, mine is ending sooner than I'd like, simply because I committed a hate crime, and must now face the consequences. Allow me to elaborate.

Like all racially-motivated crimes of hate, mine started at a local Great Khan's Mongolian BBQ establishment.

Since the courts will likely need a verbose explanation of my crimes, I've whipped up a handy diagram to explain my extreme guilt, likely leading to my permanent incarceration. The key to the diagram is as follows:

The Fonz giving an awesome thumbs up	Me
Cheech wearing culturally correct Mongolian head garb	Great Khan's employees
Martin Lawrence as Big Momma	Sassy black mother building piles of food on her tray
"I fucking love coloring" kid	Annoying child of mother, playing a Nintendo DS

Here we can see the state of things shortly after I paid my $8, earning the right to amass my piles of meats and veggies on my plate. Look out lamb meat, here I come!

Following normal, societal norms, sassy black lady and I both continued on our linear accoutrement journey through the various ingredient stations. Take note however, that her spawn is roughly stationary.

The issue outlined in the previous frame has become an ever more pressing matter now. As we can see, I'm right next to the child, which is highly engrossed in whatever games kids play nowadays; likely some simulation where you try to impregnate as many high school girls as possible. Regardless, the spawn is now physically blocking me from getting at the broccoli and bean sprouts, while the mother is miles away.

Despite looming directly over this impediment, my comments of "please participate in the line", and "jesus christ" simply fell upon deaf years. It was hail mary time.

I pulled from my bag of tricks a little move I like to call "shove the little black kid". Hate crime: committed.

The hint was well received, as he moved the fuck on, but at what price? I'll likely spend the rest of my life in prison, once news of this egregious assault reverberates through the African American community. I was only one more shoved black kid away from getting the chair, I'm sure.

The people that really suffer here, aside from the kid that was slightly jostled, are you, my loyal blog readers. I doubt I'll be able to continue contributing articles once I'm serving out my life sentence. And for that, I apologize to all of you. But not to that kid. You don't stand between a man and his cooked lamb meat. Some lessons are learned the hard way, but he knows that now.

So long, readers, and thanks for all the internets.

Holy Fuck, I Love Chocolate

Of course, upon realizing this was indeed an option, Danny DeVito began his training regiment

Let Me Get You The Appropriate Form For That

Today, like many weekdays that preceded it, found me sitting at my desk pondering what to do for the mid-day foodings. The obvious choice for those of us who are hungry enough to get up, but not quite hungry enough to move further than mission range from the office toilet, is the coffee cart directly outside the office building.

At this fine choice of walking-distance dining establishments one can find all manner of sandwiches, soups, candies and various disgusting older women stuck on a middle rung of some corporate ladder. It's this combination of unhealthy food options, coupled with unsavory clientele that led the the scenario that I witnessed while I was waiting for some purple acai sludge bowl to be whipped up for me.

A woman of roughly 25 years my senior, with both the physical shape and outfit choice of blueberry Violet from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory came up to the cart with a wadded up napkin in her hand.

Whaddya got there?

Silly hipster that manages the cart

"What can I help you with, ma'am?"

Orbularia, queen of the orb secretary people

*unwraps napkin*

"I bought this Snickers bar here just a little bit ago, and...well...as you can see something's wrong with it on the inside."

Editorial Aside:
What in god's name did she find in there? Spiders? Pebbles? Fetuses? We'll never fucking know.

"I'm sorry about that, please help yourself to another one."

"Just take another one?"

"Yes, go right ahead."

"Thank you."

She walked away from the cart, and in a world where humans evolve into creatures of increasing intelligence, that would have been the end of it. Sadly, it wasn't.

*After returning to cart with both napkin and fresh candy bar in hand*

"What do you want me to do with this?"

*Indicating half-eaten candy bar of AIDS in napkin*

"I'm sorry, what's that?"

"What do you want me to do with this now?"

"I'll take that..."

*Proceeds to throw it away, like a rational person, despite the nonsensical beard*

What the hell did you think the options for your half-eaten candy bar were, that you had to come back and confer with him on what the appropriate course of action was? Dear god, woman.

After her orbit took her far away from the cart, I told the hipster gentlemen that this is how the conversation should have taken place:

*unwraps napkin*

"I bought this Snickers bar here just a little bit ago, and...well...as you can see something's wrong with it on the inside."

"I'm sorry about that. It's probably just the universe's way of telling you to cut that shit out. Lord knows you don't any more encouragement to maintain your obvious peak physical condition, but please help yourself to another one if you'd like."

"What do you want me to do with this now?"

"OK ma'am, I'm going to give you Mars candy official form 22W 'Requisition form for replacement candy bar under condition of Snickers bar containing unsavory bits'. You're going to need to fill out and send this form, along with the remaining candy bar you didn't voraciously tear though, to the Mars corporation via certified mail. In 6-8 weeks you should hear back from the candy master about his findings, and potentially also receive a check for $0.75, which you can then apply towards a replacement candy bar, or add to your existing liposuction surgery fund. "

"What in god's holy name do you think you should do with the refuse you chewed on? We live in a society here, you beast. How did you manage to live this long lacking such basic knowledge? When you go to work, you put your muumuu on. When you take a shit, you flush it. When you're done eating some trash, you put what's left in the garbage."

"Now move on, you sicken me."

Fixing America's Poor Eating Habits

"We are not saying pizza is a vegetable," said Corey Henry, the spokesman for the American Frozen Food Institute, which supports the bill. "What we are saying is if you serve a slice of pizza with 2 tablespoons of vegetable paste, it can be an important way to deliver a number of vegetables that children will actually consume."

"We believe we can improve child nutrition by ensuring that schools are able to provide vegetables in any form," Henry said. "It's a little bizarre for us that in trying to improve nutrition, you take items from school cafeterias that do provide vital sources of vitamins and nutrients."


Source

Let's face it, making smart and healthy eating decisions is hard. Lack of knowledge about, and easy access to, unhealthy choices seem to be a fixture of American dietary culture. On a daily basis we're all faced with tough dietary questions such as:

• Which will satisfy my daily requirement of Vitamin D: 14 peanut M&Ms or an Almond Joy?
• Would an egg McMuffin or just a deep-fried English muffin be more sensible for breakfast?
• How many bags of kettle-cooked potato chips should I eat daily to maintain my health needs?
• Are these Post-It notes on my desk edible?
• Why am I told that I shouldn't try to eat my own armpits, despite them smelling like Taco Bell?

I'm not a dietitian; I don't have the answers.

But crushed under the weight of these important decisions, it's getting harder and harder for us Americans to stay healthy. That's why I wholeheartedly trust the dietetical ideas of Mr. Henry; simply redefine the unhealthy foods we already eat, as the healthy food we should be eating. Using his expanded concept of nutritional completeness, the following amendments are being made to my diet, under the hopes that they'll soon filter into our schools as well.

Used to Be Garbage	Now Counts as	Why the Fuck?
	1 serving of vegetables	Has tomato (which is a fruit) paste layered on it. Fuck you, deal with it.
	1 serving of vegetables	Made of healthy-ass corn and salsa-adjacent flavors
	1 serving of dairy	Milk chocolate, dumbass
	1/2 serving of vegetables and 1/2 serving of protein	Made with some coffee --> coffee comes from beans --> beans are legumes containing proteins --> science
	2 servings of grains	Beer is essentially bread. Nutritious bread and nourishing water.
	1 serving of fruit	Don't be stupid, the package says "contains real fruit juice"
	1 serving of meat	Jesus Christ. It's egg-shaped. Eggs are made by meats to make more meats. What's so hard to understand?

It's a little bizarre for me that in trying to improve children's nutrition, you wouldn't feed them loads of pizza, Starbursts, Frappuccinos, 3 Musketeer bars, Doritos, cream eggs and beer. Frankly, it seems a little irresponsible not to.

Get your shit together, schools.

Caligula Cookie

Recently, a person, who shall remain nameless, revealed a pre-market sneak peak at the a new Oreo cookie creation:

Little did he, or anyone else, know that two flavors was only the tip of the ambitious and perverted cookie iceberg for Nabisco. Info from an inside source, who will remain even more nameless than the last person, gave me a glimpse of the horrors being slated for release from the depths of the Cookie Manhattan Project.

If you wouldn't mind, Nabisco, we're trying to have a society here. Please undermine it as little as possible with your debauch diabetes treats.

Buffet Logic

I would like to share some rules / regulations / logic that I recently gleaned from patrons at the Wal-Mart of restaurants; Sizzler.

• An entire plate filled with croutons, then covered in ranch dressing, is an appropriate meal for human beings.
• Kids over 200lbs eat free.
• Sizzler is a fine establishment where one can order wine. Wine that most certainly does NOT come out of a bag inside of a box.
• 1 plate of salad = healthy
  17 plates of salad = 17 times as healthy
• There's a direct correlation between the number of Micky Mouse / Hello Kitty articles of clothing you wear, and the number of kids you're attempting to feed off your one purchased plate.
• Nacho cheese is the healthiest substance on earth, so it doesn't reflect poorly upon you if you ladle it on to everything
• The sneeze-guard is great for mitigating the foods exposure to you while you stand and breath heavily in awe of the tub of French dressing. But it's completely powerless against you resting your bulbous gut on the buffet shelf, smearing sauces like a hairy finger-painting apparatus.
  
  
  
• You could replace any of the decorative jars of pickled vegetables that are festooned around the buffet with a formaldehyde jar containing demons / body parts, and it'd be weeks before anyone noticed.
  
  
  
• Kids are totally sanitary; cleaner even than a dog's mouth. So it's proper health etiquette for them to finger all the bread rolls and ice cream toppings.
• If you can't find a ladle for your salad dressing of choice, it's OK to use the one from the next tub over. Others enjoy the very real pleasure that only a salad dressing "suicide" mixture can provide. 

Sizzler is damn tasty, but now I must go and be tested for foodborne leprosy and diabetes.

Future Cookies

They're little, brown, and full of shit.

I speak of course not about assholes, but about fortune cookies.

If people said the same asinine crap as fortune cookies they would undoubtedly be killed. Have you ever once, in real life, seen a fortune cookie that contained an actual fortune? No you haven’t. I don’t even know what you’ve seen and I know you haven’t seen one.

Why? They don’t exist. Below you'll find three cases:

 

EVERY cookie anyone has ever had has been either of the two latter varieties.

And what the fuck is with the lucky numbers? What’s that even mean? There’s like 12 numbers that the cookie says are ‘lucky’ and not a goddamn one of them do anything for me. Are they lottery numbers? Are    they the phone number of a woman that will have sex with me? Are they the combination to a safe that contains tasty treats and gold? No. All they are is bullshit.

I always knew that the numbers one through forty meant something special to me! Look out lottery, I'm coming to own your ass!

I now present to you the way fortune cookies should be...and I’m pretty sure that after people see these I’ll attain a super-lucrative career writing cookie notes.

Oh fuck! It's that creepy janitor touching himself again!

 Seemed thoughtful at the time. Plus, the house was messy. Better then when I got her that book on how to perform oral sex properly; that's for sure.

 

Mmmm....Dixie Cups

You know how to cut right to the heart of me, fortune cookie fortune.

 .........................ouch!

 Better then the time grandpa did it. I got in trouble when I rubbed his nose in it.

 Tell me fortune cookie: what about the buttsecks? Don't hold out on me now you damn cookie!

 I can't help it. It's so purple. I'm powerless to resist.

Like a rockstar! That's what I like to hear!

 With corrective lenses I can almost see that far.

 You're my only true friend Mr. Cookie Message.

I know. I fucking hate the sun.

Damn your black heart!

Food Makes Me Fat

Food is so tasty, no question about that. What is in question is the amount of degradation in both attractiveness and physical well-being that occurs when I, invariably, shovel way too much in. I call the transformation that occurs from this Jeremy Clarkson Syndrome; or simply JCS, which can be easily illustrated here:

Characterized cheifly by the following symptoms:

• Bloated, distended, sun-burnt gut
• Feeling like death inside

Wal-Mart shopper appearance and smushing of all other internal organs aside, the torso-development isn't entirely negative. Allow me to illustrate with an image enhancement sequence.

 If we enhance the last frame using all the greatest CSI technology available to modern-man, the following becomes revealed:

The otherwise disgusting protrusion is easily revealed to contain a rainforest-esque ecosystem. Due to the large size and associated gravitational pull, a warm and rainy climate develops around the belly. This, in turn, supports the life cycles of a large swath of colorful forest creatures.

The upper emergent layer, clearly visible with the tree-tops, supports many colorfully and vocally loud birds. The juicy canopy layer is perfect for a whole host of tree-frogs and (not visible) sloths. The delicate understory provides shelter for various fluffy primates that live off the grubs and fruits found in the lower layers.