AM Saturday: I was writing something about wallets, but I was distracted by skeletons. We will see if I finish.
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I over-explain too many of my pictures.
Why do I have footprints on my ceiling? And how, while you’re at it.
A rift develops in the CD-I Zelda cartoon remixing community. Lack of unity threatens to jeopardize the future of poop.
I won a flu shot in a fight. Yes, I won the fight by shooting flu at people and my arm is irrelevant..
If you are forthright about your most sinister sounding ingredient, and go so far as to boast about it on the front of your packaging, people will assume it’s a bonus feature. The Dorito squad could learn a lesson from this. Rancho-salsorella-guacoberry Doritos, now with neutronium mcsparkletrite! This reminds me of those original ads for the Rogaine hair enhancer, where some generic oaf would say a random thing and clarify it by explaining “it’s like Rogaine.” He had to talk about Rogaine through comparison only because laws that haven’t managed to make Cialis ads not-creepy prevented Rogaine’s purpose from being stated in the advertisement. After he said “Rogaine” someone else would pipe in real excited like “Rogaine with Minoxidil?” Verily, that be the one. Not that other rogaine that Scooby Doo buys from Columbian gangsters. Ask your doctor about Rogaine, because otherwise you’ll never find out what it does! As far as I could figure out, it helped men get brochures in the mail about catching fish and riding horses. Now that I do know what Rogaine does I find that imagery completely helpful and appropriate. Are you looking to get away from the hectic, urban lifestyle? Rogaine can help you get pictures of men doing inconsequential stuff outside! We also have pictures of a guy in a kayak and a guy playing golf! As long as my Mute button has functioned, I have observed that most oddly named things that come in little boxes are also good for this.
Hiii. Nice place! Not nice enough! I’m going to read my Rogaine brochure and wish I was at a rodeo, yup yup! Maaan… good times, good times. Oops, let me wipe my keyboard.
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Apparently, updating this page once every five days is even too frequent.
There is clearly much more important business to tend to, besides.
Poliglotery sounds horrible only to dumbs…
From: “Heart Attack Jones” <[email protected]>
To: “Diane Sawyer” <[email protected]>
Date: Fri, 18 Sep 2009 6:01 AM (5 days 11 hours ago)
Esteemed M. Fabrax,
As you may well know, the G-20 summit will be taking place next week here in Pittsburough. You of course do not live in Pittsburrah, but in light of the recent economic brouhaha, I understand this has been quite a topic elsewhere, as well (or at least Deutsche Welle news gives me this impression). Avid social commentator as you are, I thought that perhaps you might be interested making a work of art to commemorate this event. Ah, but of what subject matter? Well, I personally can’t help you there, but perhaps there’s a chance some third party may have given you a suggestion at some point in the last few weeks which might somehow be thematically appropriate…?
Hmm…
– A retarded samurai
Seven brides for seven brothers
I have too many messages to write to people today.
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I have decided, if they want to make a Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs movie, fine. I’ll deal with it. But I will have nothing to do with a Cloudy with a Chance of Porky’s 2.
earsearsearsearsearsearsearsearsearsearsearsears
What’s that? No! You’re fibbing! You’re having me on! You must be! I won’t… I can’t believe… No! I refuse!
BABY BUCK CHOC!!!
Walgreens Cafe W bakery. Fresh from the photo lab to you!
Yes, yes, I know! Stop judging me! I only smoke em for the fiber! Prior to my new health awareness, it was a fashion statement.
Hoppity hermaphrodillos, what’s the time?
Never again!
My favorite part of candy is and has always been looking at it and admiring the craftmachineship involved in giving each object its distinct shape. And so I just HAVE to love 3-dees, because 3d is always better, and it’s a clever name, too. Even the sticker is astounded, and usually it takes nothing less than successful completion of first grade math worksheets to impress them.
WHOA BAN MICROSOFT SILVERLIGHT LETS ME TURN THE WINDOW SIDEWAYEEEZ!!!
It can also translate any script into cuneiform.
cakecakecakecakecakecakecakecakecakecakecakecakecakecakecake
I like your bread, Chabasco, but you’re not my mother.
Choose mountain dew color based on War-Craft allegiance, please. And sure, as long as that’s important to you, go ahead and buy ten. Although I can’t help noticing that red potion favors green bald guys and the blue potion favors pink ladies. Maybe the dewsters had some old formula left over from a Double Dare promotion 15 years ago, or the only two player video game they had in the office was Contra. Unfortunately, it’s still Mountain Dew. Although this is probably to the benefit of the pink ladies, as the huge green oafs already, I suspect, can take bigger beatings, and everybody knows the red kind refills all your hearts twice, so this would give a very unfair advantage to oafkind, me thinks.
Oh, ho, it is not “still” Mountain Dew. Now it is Mtn Dew. Spelling stuff right is officially considered throwing back. Like, get with the program, puzzlewit. Unless you’d like to help us unload some old, unsold, flat, particle-separated inventory in a zanily misguided quest for nostalgia. If you really want to take me back, try tickling my innards with your manhuntin’ firearms and Appalachian stereotypes.
Kentucky Fried Chicken to “KFC” i can understand, because it’s a mouthful (of chemically-infused, frankensteinian steroided up grease flavored meat product that by the way animals were bred in captivity, abused in tiny cages, and killed to make (which I lamentably enjoy eating occasionally)), but mountain is only two syllables with no negative, truthful connotations to distract people from. In fact, the word “mountain” was about the LEAST creepy thing printed on the bottle (“dew,” is, afterall, a near-homophone for a childish euphemism for dog excrement). It’s like the Pepsikooks thought “gosh, mountain dew just isn’t inorganic and mysterious enough! How can we make it seem LESS natural? Apart from turning it red and putting shrek stand-ins on the label, I mean.” It’s not as if there isn’t inadequate space to spell out “mountain” in. Nor is the background better off for absence of letters. Get me more green starfoxy void, STAT! Maybe there’s something inherently extreme about abbreviations. Awkward, vowel-less abbreviations of single words.
My my me, where is the time going?
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I thought it was bad when I saw Halloween M&Ms for sale on August 7…
But Comedy Central set me straight by showing a Hanukkah movie less than two weeks later. Or the Hanukkah movie, I guess.
The MnMs might not seem so bad when I show them to you on September 7, but that doesn’t happen until Monday, and by then we will all have forgotten about this. One hopes.
Why is the general trying to sell me automobile insurance? Shouldn’t he be advising the president on military affairs?
Why is he hiking through antarctica in such crucial times of war? No wondering we can’t win this.
Now he’s in a totally different office! Once again, with his website up. He probably does that on all the computers at Best Buy, too. Either he’s a lunatic who wanders around and poses in other people’s offices or he’s a decadent scoundrel who buys all new stuff every week. He is competent enough to change his telephone number, so I must assume the latter case. He’s a FIVE star general, too. That rank isn’t even AVAILABLE most of the time. This guy’s been around and done it all. “It all” evidently comprising less crucial situations than I previously thought. Why, how did it come to this?
Hey, general, I’m pretty sure it’s a crime to transport penguins out of their natural habitat. Not that you can leave the country in your automobile, but I’m sure you can go somewhere; otherwise, why would you be trying to? Aside from that you’re crazed with greed and cold, I mean. Maybe he thinks if he appears with something cute I’ll purchase insurance from him. Eh, no dice, pallywag. I only buy insurance from ducks, cgi lizards and cartoon lady secret agents wearing latex bodysuits.
Here he is yet again, standing on a box, harassing some guy. How did the general even get into the military? He’s much too tiny to pass even the most rudimentary basic training screenings.
When things get tricky, when The Law comes on to the general’s schemes, he hides out in
this Doom textured igloo from the penguin he abducted, I assume murdered and assumed the identity of. Although now that I think of it, based on the location of his summer villa, his stature and his lack of morals, it is equally feasible that the general was a penguin in disguise all along (possibly Tennessee Tuxedo, which would explain his flightless, flighty nature and access to the Commander), selling dubious insurance, running from town to town duping unsuspecting humans, merely trying to finance his perpetual travel expenses. Always on the move, always on the run. The tragedy of The General.
I can’t imagine why he’s scared of us.
Meet the Windows XP install program lonely arrow. You can meet it because it is a person, with feelings, fears, wants and needs, just like you. Must we anthropomorphisize all things? I feel bad about not needing this thing’s help. That’s it’s only purpose, its only aspiration in life, the thing it has devoted its entire existence to being ready for, and I don’t even give it a chance to prove itself. Worse, its only friend, the baby arrow, decided it would be more popular if it got in with the green square arrow’s crowd instead. There is no one to comfort the help arrow in dealing with its unfortunate spinal condition caused from spending so much time awkwardly bent over inside that little circle. I almost want to cry.
I will persevere, though. A lot of people have it worse than I do but don’t lose their heads over it. They still might want to attach a string, though, just in case.
I think feet as the O letters is pushing the gimmick, a bit. Some members of the logo lobby seem to think that any object can be used to substitute any vowel. If anything, this is Giigle, which it isn’t, which means it’s nothing.
On the subject of Michael Jackson tributes two months after his death still suddenly and inexplicably turning up in places where they never would have had the man lived to 180 years of age, I can at least understand them, to some extent. He was a near-mythic figure, most people know who he was, and he did plenty of things they liked. He did things they didn’t like… even if you don’t see validity in the molestation charges, it’s hard to not see some level of unusual weirdness that the guy could have and ought to have controlled, acknowledged or challenged people to accept, but that only became most apparent AFTER his greatest hits, unless we count Moonwalker. It’s easy to keep the various Jackson editions separate in one’s mind for denial purposes.
Anyway, fine, you like Michael Jackson when he’s dead. Billy Mays, however, I don’t understand. He was just an oaf who talked kind of loud and abrasively. He had nothing to do with the creation of any of the junk he helped (apparently) sell. I thought at first people were just honoring him as a joke, but there are those on the internet who sincerely found their lives less full with that guy in the ground. Research into the accusation that these people also enjoyed the movie Watchmen and expected to enjoy Snakes on a Plane has yet proved inconclusive, because I don’t actually want to talk to any of the people I thinking of or learn anything about them.
The Friends and Company, a restaurant, and its unappetizing hot dog sign. Maybe it’s the total lack of detail, maybe it’s the bright primary colors, maybe it’s the too-small hotdog roll, maybe it’s the fact that this is near Friends and Company, but I never want a hot dog LESS than when I see this. Perhaps that is the point, though, since as far as I am aware hot dogs are not served within Friends & Company, and so it can only benefit from making the thought of eating one seem unpleasant.
Or so I once thought; upon re-evaluation the day after writing that, I discovered this makes me not want to eat anything.
I cut from whatever direction I WANT. You cannot change my ways. Brainwashing and sending out the baby scissors to plead YOUR closeminded agenda is despicable. The baby will be spared, but you may just have sealed your own fate, and I will not be there to deperforate your way to freedom.
Well excyoooooooooz me!
Indexed search is an annoying thing. I could have used that ten years ago, when the real search was slow, but I finally own a computer in which the search isn’t slow anymore and I get this nonsense. Fuh. It was dealt with easily enough by various people, apparently. I wish Microsoft would make it more clear all the great and useful things its operating system is capable of doing. I shouldn’t have to type nutty things into google and hope some nerd spent a year changing every value in the system registry to see what happens and came across a solution (I will use Hotbot next time).
That didn’t work when I tried it, though. I will figure something out. Maybe index mode will surprise me with effectiveness.
I’m certain Macos has its benefits, but they aren’t of benefit to me, and I don’t feel like searching for them and possibly not finding them, besides. I have used some version of Windows for fourteen years. It does everything I need it to. I know how it works. I’m not hurting anyone with it. All my programs run in it (xp, anyhow). Provided I don’t share the computer with anyone else and the hard drive is adequately sized, the only problems I have are with third party software and the occasional entirely functional thing that Microsoft created but broke between versions or decided not to let me use for some reason, most likely to appease the ever growing amount of easily impressed, more easily confused whiners who have a hyperconniption if there’s ever more than one option presented to them, who will otherwise buy Apple systems and tell me I should, too. I’m not here to talk about this. Don’t make me talk about this. I haven’t researched it. I’ve merely gotten angry at it. I am here to talk about this:
I will NOT be screened for approval by dopes! dopes, I know. And I know I want no dopes.
This is NOT GOOD. In fact, it is quite bad. I might even call it terrible. What’s that? …Yes, it seems I would. Dah, dope! It is not permitted to be here, and yet… there it is. One way or another, it’s destination dumpster. Being slightly less creepy in appearance and corporate sponsorship than the wrinkled orange thing above you does not necessarily qualify you for existence, dope. The dope is qualified for few things outside the jurisdiction of my rage.
“THE” dope. It thinks it’s the only dope in the world! Such blasphemous arrogance and hubris! I WISH it was the only dope, but it isn’t. And if I could obtain wish fulfillment, I’d wish for NO DOPES, anyhow. I believe this can be accomplished in our lifetimes.
August 25:
Here, for the first time performing together anywhere, the Karate Kid, Harry Potter and Michael Moore!… Cripes, I’m going to bed. Except I can’t because I just woke up. Everybody is in my business this week. There will be no proper site updates until each and every person who is in it that shouldn’t be gets out from within my business. Why don’t you instead go to the most boring seaside restarauraurant in the world and not eat anything for approximately two-thousand hours and get nauseous from heat and rage, all the while knowing there is business to tend to? And when you’re done with that, please, by all means, hop on over to Harbor Health for a series of meetings with the world’s dumbest clinicians because your brain is broken and legally that means you have to meet with people who have advanced degrees in dumbness every once in a while so you can tell them about the things which bother you that aren’t them.
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page 32… or perhaps it is more like 31-and-a-half, of this. The stupid comic. It is still not what I want, but I like to think it is better than it was. I am fully aware that the curtains I previously showed from outside the room don’t correspond at all with the ones I have been showing from inside it recently. I’m pretty sure I covered this in the last page’s excuse.
It is hard to accept that aside from their respective brief ventures outward, the red and green creatures have been in that room for a year now.
I forgot that page 31a needed fixing. I will get to that right around the time I do so. Page 4 needs fixing, too. Most pages need fixing. We must do what we can to control the stray page population.
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After eating food off of one, it is not polite to leave your plate wherever you happened to be at the time, for someone else to get. Unless, that is, you place a used, crumpled paper towel on it. This shows that you are concerned about cleanliness. It additionally serves to make non-visible whatever food you did not consume, thus rendering the task of rinse-scraping that food off the plate unnecessary. You get a gold pinecone if the food was of a moist variety likely to dry and cause the paper towel to stick to the plate. Then it can stay there forever.
This cupboard runs out of board before I run out of cups.
Look at these. Some of them haven’t been used for years. And new ones keep showing up.
What is this? What could you possibly drink out of this and be satisfied with the amount you have received?
Who’s juicing oranges? Who in this house ever has? We don’t even have oranges. When we have oranges, they get eaten. We do, however, have a gallon jug of store-purchased orange juice in the refrigeration chamber which was bought in anticipation of the previous being fully emptied, so it’s not as if we’re waiting for our stock to run out before we start making our own. I took the juice thing out of here and put it in a drawer where bigger, weirder kitchen tools that aren’t cups but are hard to fit with the cups go. The next time I put cups away the juice thing had returned to its former spot.
The last time I put cups away I accidentally let one drop and it had the gall to break. After cleaning up the glass and blood I was at least glad to know that there’d be one extra space next time. Which brings us to the present.
I’ve never seen this before in my life. Anyone would think we run some sort of British country club here, but in fact there is only one resident who drinks tea regularly, and he drinks it out of coffee mugs.
Ehh, that won’t be necessary.
I wasn’t talking about you anyway, birdo.
Which does not mean you can stay.
By the haybale, if you know what computer program I went quite out of my way to download and get pictures of these things from, I think you’ll find me very cooperative where minor blackmail demands are concerned. Nobody needs to know I acquired Microsoft Bob in 2009 by my own free will just to harass the stupid mascots.
The only things I find shocking about coffee are that people want it, constantly, believe they need it, will pay any amount of dollars you charge them for it, and that this is engaged in by allegedly respectable people, some of them admitted fools, who laugh at kids for wasting money on Pokemon cards, High School Musicals, Tamagotchis, cigarettes and licorice. The kids these days, with their licorice and macaroons and marzipan. I’m tired.
Watchmen on DVD, featuring an additional 24 hours of never-before-seen footage! When I watched those men in a theater, indeed my greatest complaint was that the film had used its time too efficiently. We need to pad this out, yo.
I like this new “wheelchair access” symbol. It has action lines. Much like Wheelchair Mario, it really emphasizes handi-CAPABLE. It also communicates “look here, sonny. I have to use my ARMS to move these WHEELS, and THAT’S why I can’t open the door.” Although the old one looks like it wants to punch somebody, I don’t reckon it would be a very effective punch from that starting position.
I don’t know why people complain about their Department(s) of Motor Vehicles. The floating, misshapen smiley face in the corner puts me completely at ease and cures all my worries. Although I do begin to think perhaps that is a character flaw of mine.
Which is not to say my sense of alarm has dulled to a sirloin tip:
Maybe I’ve been on the internet too long, but I find something intensely upsetting about somebody having brown fluid dripped on itself and also being jaw-detachingly ecstatic about that happening, and then this getting the unconcerned, “inoffensive” label “muddy.”
Oh.
Ohhh… Wikihow.
I didn’t realize what site I was at.
Slap Susan Boyle! This ad makes me really sad. And I didn’t even watch the Susan Boyle video(s). Do you have any idea how hard that was? They were the cat’s meow, as I hear it.
Here, on May 25, it’s five of the top ten videos. Big deal, Miss Susie can sing nice. People do that all the time. People do that on junkety tv “talent” competitions aller the times. I can’t confirm that they do anything else these days. Sure, it’s harder than randomly placing high pitched noises over the words of daytime talk shows, per the terms of number six on our countdown, Jimmy Kimmel’s “unncecessary censorship,” which by the way his staff does every single week and never puts any more or any effort into, but really, what’s the big idealio? Because Ms. Boyle doesn’t meet your orange, tight-skinned tv standard of “beauty” you assume I assume she’s a terrible singer, and therefore I should be shocked and mesmerized when she isn’t? And once you’re over her, I should want to simulate bringing bodily harm to the woman? Without even having to be promised a freeasterisk ipod? Just because I feel like it?
I somehow, without trying, heard that this lady was one of two or so megafinalists… The ads for these shows are invariably stuffed with people juggling trees, sculpting sphynxes out of cornmeal, metamorphizing into butterflies, eating manwiches through their noses, and yet “it” always comes down to a couple bozos who can move their mouths good. But it is not the fault of the singers themselves that the international council of lousy vote-off shows has screwy standards.
Which is not to say they are entirely without fault in life, certainly.
You know… forget purging the orange juliots who just sing, if we must. With enough orchestration and background dancers any creatively stillborn barbado bope can potentially be entertaining. I would be relatively fine if They could do these variety shows without the judges. We always need a high council of loud-mouthed morons with questionable, pro-trash values there commenting on our behalf and wasting program time. It’s like those youtube videos with the stupid pop-up text during the clips. That’s better than when people edit big stupid caps lock Arial letters into the actual video, and I believe it can be disabled. Our task force has yet to devise the technology to disable Sharon Osbourne.
This explains so much.
Some morning radio DJs are missing their sidekicks. Listen in to WHUH every weekday morning from 5 to 12 where Captain Porch and The Humidor will be playing Summercation Buck$tacular all through the month of June! Be the lucky caller and win something that can’t possibly justify listening to this rubbish every day of your life for hours!
Is this a breast book by Dr. Susan Love, or does Dr. Susan just love breast? To such a degree as to feel inspired to write this huge book? And am I seriously confident that I’m the first person aware of this book’s existence to make such remarks?
I recently encountered a large automobile with a “horse enthusiast” license plate. Is it really necessary to say that? Why else would you have a picture of a horse on a permanent accessory of your vehicle? Why do you even have a car? Why don’t you just ride a horse everywhere?* Do you even know if you can feed a horse bananas? As the saying goes, you can lead a horse to bananas, but you can’t lead bananas anywhere. And you shouldn’t, because that would make them led bananas, which would make you quite sick if you ate them. It’s not a very good saying.
*not because you think continually placing your full, domestically conditioned weight on and ordering movement of the animal might be a source of annoyance, of course. Why would that ever occur to you?
These people are WAY too excited about Werther’s “Original” Unspecified Object. Here is a thing to ask yourself if you think you might be too excited about the one who Werthes: “Did the thought occur to me that I might be? Nevermind the too, am I excited about Werther’s Original in the slightest? If I have to ask these questions, is my personal sense of judgment adequate that it is safe for me to be walking around in public? If that is not the case, can I even trust me to provide the answers?”
Ehhh… I know a person fairly well who likes these things, in fact, but surely even he would agree that the exuberance on display here is in excess. We must do something exciting to justify the already initiated withdrawal from our glee reserves.
The war on non-curled hair has been just as spectacular as you’d expect. I’m so charged and inspired I could just about refill my salt shaker.
July 28:
Big trouble today. Big trouble tomorrow. Big trouble all week. Big trouble big bad. No good. Must make great kill at hunt and honor ancestor. Dance with mountain people. Thumpa thumpa yo! Sacrificial beneficial, nothing here is artificial. My teeth hurt.
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July 27:
Big trouble today. My rubbish AT&T internet connection has not helped. It is simply not feasible for me to update this page the way I desire to or talk to anybody. The replacement frame is just about the worst piece of artwork ever done. It looks like something out of the first issue of Ninja Turtles. Except it probably took me as long to draw that one frame as Laird Eastman did drawing the whole comic book. Oops. That’s all I have time to say.
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Ohhhh, busybusybusy.
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bad news: I crammed far too many words on this page
good news: I couldn’t cram in as many as I wanted
better news: the awful hospital part is almost over
bad news: “almost” means in about three or so pages, which will take me as many months to finish
worse news: I don’t know what happens next yet.
Elpz seems unconcerned with, or worse, entirely oblivious to the fact that it is the only character on the page that is naked. The hat, being an item of clothing, is exempt, and it wears a stylish feather, besides.
Yet one more indicator I should switch to a fixed width, vertical format without page barriers. Apparently eliminating excess dialogue and space-wasting non-gags is not an option. I just don’t like the idea of drawing big stupid backgrounds for frames where only one character is visible.
Also, it is becoming apparent I that have some perverse fascination with mail delivery. However, I do not. I merely am not terribly creative when it (it being something) comes to plot devices.
I am not soliciting them, but I am open to dialog simplification suggestions. Do you think you could write this better than I could? Then you’re probably right!
I am trying to do a thing, but it is taking too long. Oops. I will try again tomorrow.
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That really isn’t my problem. I couldn’t help you if it was. I wouldn’t if I could.
Michael Jackson is not a good Nerf gun, apparently, regardless of how many of his body parts are reported to be constructed from the orange, foam-like substance.
“Other farm games”: why are there any, much less if they are reputed for their slowness? I don’t doubt that even a video game about filling a bucket could be entertaining if done properly or merely spammoed to enough idiots in the facebook who forget that actual video games still exist, but I’d still be baffled if an entire genre formed around it. At best, you’ll get a series of Double Dare physical challenges out of it.
I could scarcely grasp the popularity of amusement park simulations, but farms just seem slow and dull. I liked running around with the guy in Harvest Moon until I realized I had to make him buy seeds and plant stuff. Although even more popular to others and more baffling to me are simulations of the yet more mundane, less consequential strictly residential existences of The Sims, and I filled a couple of notebook pages complaining about that which neither you nor I are likely to see in our futures, to our non-detriment, so let us talk about something else.
Great!
< Why is there a life size cardboard cut out of just some guy in this store? I thought it was one of the employees, at first, because of that necklace he's wearing, but soon I knew the truth:
Yes, hopay, I understand it’s one of the characters from the feature film Twineline… but if I had not seen the movie I would not know that. And as somebody who’s seen the movie, I can’t imagine why anybody would want to own a thing which reminded them of it. The guy’s boardsona is utterly ordinary looking aside from his chalky skin, which could easily be a result of it being out in someone’s back yard for a couple years.
I also received a relatively peculiar letter through the mail recently. I must consider its implications.
I saw a preview for that Carol movie. It doesn’t even star Jim Carrey. It stars some unsettling computer-made guy that resembles Jim Carrey and sounds like him but might as well sound like a pterodactyl because that’s not actually him. I assumed the movie was just some superfluous and unnecessary thing, but by Brinna it’s an expensive, crrrrreepy, superfluous and unnecessary thing. You might say “Scrooge is bad. He’s supposed to be unsettling.” But in the tradition of showing Dr. Claw just walking around in the preview for Inspector Gadget, Disney also shows happy Scrooge dancing in the road on Christmas morning, and he looks even scarier than before.
I like gummy worms, how about you?
I do not, however, like gummy, tooth-eating mouth parasites. Neither does the character on the box, from the look of things. Consider that we are talking about the mass consumption of legless, slimy invertebrates, and I only just now got grossed out by it, maybe you should rethink your marketing. Also, that hot dog looks too firm and uniformly colored to be any good. I like hot dogs, but I hate ones like that. The ones that people in tv commercials always stick their tongues out like “wlaaaah” to eat and then bite sideways. Also the really long kind that doesn’t fit in the roll. Those always taste wrong. I don’t trust that mustid application, either. Not that I eat mustard, but I’m open to the idea of trying it at some point. I’m still mentally preparing myself for relish. Why must ard be applied in a spike pattern? Why not like a wave border, or windows 3.1 egypt.bmp style?
This reminds me, it’s about time for an update on a recent matter of great importance:
Hey, do we have enough A Christmas Carols? Do we have enough A Disney A Christmas Carols? Do we have enough Christmas movies with Jim Carrey inappropriately cast as the originally non-wacky protagonist? Do we have enough Jim Carrey movies in which he has mysterious magical powers (I refer to his ability to grow to enormous size and fly around merely by taking off his legs)? This poster suggests that we do not.
I ask because nobody tells me these things. Obviously.
