Half-cocked on red wine, I went to the grocery store with the following list of items I was required to purchase:
Cheetos (original, non-puffy variety)
Amy’s Mac & Cheese
California Pizza Kitchen Thai Pizza (TM)
I sauntered by the closed-down seafood section and found a bin roiling with the first decent crawfish crop of the six month season (crawfish are in season during months that don’t end in “r”, props to Claire for the mnemonic). I picked out the angriest few the way non-coastal types would pick out unpopped popcorn kernels, except the diametric opposite.
I plunged those feisty bugs into ice cold salted water to remove whatever was left of the gulf that lay within. I boiled those sea-bugs, and I’m about to eat them. I saw each one of their beady eyes, I sized them up the way a politician would, kissing babies, pumping paws. I saw the frumpy check-out girl making faces at my sea-bugs, and said, “don’t look at them like that.”
If I were that tasty, I wouldn’t mind dying a quick death in boiling water. Especially if I cost less than an envelope of Orville Redenbacher. I heart poor people food.
Filed under: slowblogger
Oh crap, I almost forgot to search…Well here is another Sleepy Searches, where I search using a keyword and pick the best video from the results. Here is a lovely video on why cats are individuals and not pets. But feel free to throw them out of a moving car…Just Kidding.
I love cats. I’ve had only Calico cats my entire life, (not counting cats I’ve lived with). But they never made that horrible horrible sound after they were spade. Is there a worst sound any animal can make besides a rabbit caught by a wolf or the sound of a cat in heat? Well, my rule of thumb is to never touch a cat when it makes that sound. This lady learned the hard way. There is a moment after she gets mauled where she gives the look women often reserve for the moment after they’ve been told their man has had another lady on the side for the last six months. Like she doesn’t know whether to ball, throw-up, or put a stiletto in your eye. Anyways, I love seeing broadcasters cry. Yeah, I’m looking at you Cronkite.
Don’t worry, it’s all good. Here is the follow up story. She even knew she was going to be on YouTube. But I have to say that doesn’t look like she’s laughing.
Filed under: slowblogger
Self-hating fringe boys with sequencers:
For more examples, see Boys, Pet Shop and Cell, Soft. I wish my PJs matched my wallpaper.
Filed under: slowblogger
