Hello. Today is Thursday. I am at a Hotel. I have internet and I have my computer, but not at the same time.

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another week so soon? I am making an attempt to update this for wednesday, so you can likely guess how that will go.

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Sadly, these little inexplicable smiley face things being sold yet more inexplicably in the frozen food section of Stop & Shop no longer adequately convey my emotions…



Join me as I pause and pay homage to our fallen friend, master meatsmith and former muppet sympathizer, Jimmy Dean. Our breakfast bowls become breakfast bawls.

What do you… I said DEAN. Beans are still around.

Dean, best known to members of my supposed generation for his inadvertent mention in Ma Donna’s 1990 song Vogue, which actually referred to actor James Dean, will probably continue to be known for that anyhow.

These sausages escaped from their enclosure to begin the long hard pilgrimage to

the internet so they could look at the official Jimmy Dean Brand website, only to find it either unaware or unconcerned that its namesake is dead, because he was actually pushed out of his spokesing duties which were his last personal ties to the company six years ago, ostensibly for being too old.

This guy exudes youthful appeal, though. He’s like the Nabisco Snack Fairy without the dignity or product with the nutritional credibility of Oreo Cakesters.


He’s such hot stuff that the website’s temperature management department is overworked and has to pay visitors to take up the palm frond-waving for a minute or two. Which sounds ridiculous but it’s slightly more plausible than bribing people such a pitiful amount to pretend to be your devoted follower on the internet. Not plausible at all: paying somebody to design a costume that’s not deliberately lazy-looking. The only thing more appealing than low budget ingenuity is high budget low budget imitation. Much time and effort was devoted to making this look like so little time and effort was involved. “Hey guys I should probably take my watch off for this, right? No? Because the SUN probably doesn’t… oh okay. I mean I’m just saying, because it’s actually the very thing we tell time by– alright, forget it! mumblerhubarbjusttryingtohelpmurph”



Appearing in the notorious MC Rove sketch was Colin Mochrie’s penance for this. Or maybe it was for those weird flash cartoons. Or maybe I’m the only person who doesn’t find instant emasculatory hilarity in frumpy men wearing pink skirts and so need not waste effort complaining about an obsolete advertisement series which I don’t actually think about all that much nor bear lasting resentment toward the actor for appearing in. I will say that nobody frolics into my mind as having the potential to be less intolerable in this role than this person. He surely did me a favor by not letting Greg Proops or French Stewart get the job.

For all new customers know, “Jimmy Dean” is the name of the product itself and/or the source of its meat, and given Mr. Dean’s current physical state that would almost be plausible if not for the general absence of legitimate meat matter in most frozen food. Consider that the Breakfast Bowl(s) is apparently ripping off a Kentucky Fried Chicken gimmick, –right down to the forced pluralization in the product name– a thing noted for its perceived* low quality, and also that ripoffs typically are less meritorious than that which they ripped, and that 90+ percent of the people who buy this will opt to heat it in a microwave oven without so much as considering less sog-like alternatives. I already considered it so I figured I’d inflict that thought upon you as well. For Krimpet’s sake it’s a plastic bowl in a box. Plastic bowls are for takeout food, maybe for putting chips in at a barbecue. I’m expected to provide my own fork, right? The one on the box is clearly made of a shiny metal. If I’m eating in my house I have real bowls I can use, too.

*granted, all these perceptions are my own and they are as close as I have come to actually eating the things I am talking so much bowl-filler about. The thing I’m using to support my unverified claim is just another unverified claim of mine. I additionally ought to disclose that I am fairly fond of Stouffer’s stuffed peppers, which also come in a sealed plastic bowl in a box in a freezer. However, the bowl is not given top billing.

And this! Hello again. If ‘the morning fade’ was a real thing that you didn’t make up, you wouldn’t have been able to trade-mark it, O Deanco. It sounds more like a mysterious ultimate villainous entity or invading force from some bad fantasy movie, particularly when you order me to fight it with a special enchanted apparatus named after a former legendary hero. Young traveler, as the one chosen by the Snack Fairy Sun Pixie only you can take up the Sausage of Jimmy Dean and venture forth through the lands of Hangover to do battle with The Morning Fade! Meanwhile, “choose your breakfast” seems like a threat somehow. I’ve been challenged and in the typical insincere show of gentlemanly decency by one who intends to see another done in this is meant to be my last choice in life. This town ain’t big enough for the both of us, son. Choose yer breakfast. It won’t do ya a lick a good, pardner. My pancake-wrapped-sausage on a stick sez you die at sundown. And if you eat it you’ll die sooner.

Why eat right when there are so many other directions to choose from?