I've decided to stop slacking and start writing the kind of stuff that glistening drops of retcin won't fresh out of your brain.
First things first. I'll need to migrate some stuff off of my pederast- space page, because it's still relevant, despite all the magic Obama has performed for this great nation.
And with that, I give you this gem from 2007:
[06 Jun 2007 | Wednesday]
Here's to you Mr. Zombie Chicken Farmer
Category: Food and Restaurants
My partner in crime went on a lunch run today and took orders from all the rest of us slack-asses in the operations center. Today's carrion du jour was Arby's.
With fond memories of Jamocha-shakes-past dancing in my melon, I looked to the online menu and ordered the one item that looked as though it contained at least a few of the same letters as the word "healthy". The grilled chicken sandwich seemed least likely to make my heart as'plode. Grilled chicken it was.
When the grub eventually got there, I opened the bun to kind of check her out.....and I was fucking horrified.
It was as if millions of cartoonesque digital Arby's hats suddenly cried out in terror and blinked out of existence. The meat was gray with little drops of unspecified dew all over it. It sure as shit didn't look like chicken, more like somebody cut the meat off a zombie who happened to be sweating from heavy calisthenics.
First of all, my prayers really go out to the zombie chicken farmer who had to core sample that disgusting chunk of fuck out of what used to be a chicken.
Second of all, let me offer some suggestion for Arby's to unfuck themselves:
1. Stop using flesh from undead poultry and serving it to the unsuspecting public
2. Barring that, at least cook it on an actual grill.
3. Barring that, at least have the common fucking courtesy to break out a sharpie and paint me some grill marks.
I ate the sandwich and I'm beginning to feel very cold.
BAWK-BUH-BRAAAAAIIINNNSSSSS!!!!!
