The Proof

Here's the proof that I still eat like I have a death wish. Its a "tagged and bagged" chili cheese dog, from the gas station. Looks like shit in a plastic bag, tastes like heaven. I washed it down with a gas station nacho, cheese, chili and jalapeno mixture in a paper bowl. You know it-

And this, my brothers, is called "chicken stew"- It is homemade by a good friend of mine, who amazingly enough, is an awesome cook though completely lacking a sense of smell. I don't know how he does it. He periodically releases a "batch" of the stew (following some marker on a lunar calender, I believe) and hand delivers it to his chosen people. My entire family gets giddy when they know its coming. The photo is not blurred- I had drank about eight of those PBR's and as far as I know, this is what it actually looked like. Awesome.

The King And I

Just raggin' on the "King" this week. First, B.K. has a new french fry and ketchup flavored potato chip on the market- photo above. Funny, because the last time I bought fries from Burger King, they taste like stale potato chips! Weired. Also, I noticed that written across the bottom of the drive through menu board, is "picture menu available at the window" which is for people who are illiterate to "point" to the item they want to purchase. I don't know what is more hilarious, the idea that there would be one person in this country who does not know what they sell at Burger King well enough to order without a menu, or that someone who could not read the word "Whopper" could read THE DAMN MESSAGE ABOUT THE PICTURE MENU!!!!