Category: Gross

Deep Fried Mars Bar email

Into each life, a little saturated fat must fall.  You have been carefully selected as possibly being the kind of wild and crazy (redacted company name) employee who might want to eat a deep fried Mars bar.  Our talented chef Chris has agreed — with some misgivings — to deep fry Mars bars for us, but only if at least ten people sign up.   As this is a rare culinary delight, I urge you to vote Yes, Please!    Please be advised that they are almost impossible to finish, so consider sharing it with somebody.  Please be further advised that in the tradition of Scottish cuisine (almost a contradiction in terms), you order it with a side of fries.  Your best bet is to plan on eating nothing else that day, and possibly not for 24 hours on either side.  I’m going to draw the line at requesting a doctor’s note, though.  Please be further, further advised that costs will be announced when we have enough people signed up.  Please be further, further, further advised that my distribution list may have missed people who have been dying (possibly literally) to eat a deep fried Mars bar, and that no ill-will is intended if you were forwarded this by someone other than Allegra.

Sundry and various

Squirrel Spider Hybrid.  Very creepy photoshop – don’t look if you don’t dig spiders.

A buddy said, “I used to do scaffolding.  One of my customers paid his stucco workers half in cash and half in cocaine.  They worked like demons, man!”  Welcome to the Vancouver construction industry.

Deadwood has stolen my heart and p*ssed on it.  Keith Carradine interviews David Milch and it’s one of the most interesting and entertaining special features bits I’ve seen since Keira Knightley screamed “Oh, the horr-id filth-ay mon-kay!” in the Pirates of the Caribbean cast commentary.  Repeatedly.  Like, every time the mon-kay showed his ugly mug.

Work quote of the day.  “I know I suck; I just wish I was better at it.”

 

 

Hurry weekend

My weekend started with me sitting ON MY BALCONY – literally the first time since I moved in that I sat on the balcony with somebody – and drinking panty remover, which is the nicest thing you can call Mike’s Hard Cranberry lemonade (note to self, bleaaaagh) with a friend.  Fortunately there’s a big jug of fruit juice.  And soon, the salad with hard cooked eggs.
The rest of the weekend hasn’t happened yet.

Katie’s birth certificate FINALLY ARRIVED.  Note how I’ve kept my cakehole shut, because this situation has had me in seizures since the last time I complained of it here.

Other matters remain undecided and likewise sidewise.  I should make phone calls.  Apparently I’m helping with a documentary next week.  More details as they become available.

Also, Sin City.  It’s been an age since I went, and it should be peerlessly entertaining.

Also, I’m thinking of maybe finally buying a television.

I think I’ll finish rewatching Meet the Feebles. I got … uh … distracted, the last time I tried to watch it.