YSaC, Vol. 911: Honey, I nuked the baby.
Baby/Toddler toys
We have a 2 year old boy, and have amassed a pile of his toys to give away. Most are in good shape, some need new batteries.
We are on the westside of [location]. I also have cloth diapers to give away (separate posting)
Parent #1: Honey, where’s the baby?
Parent #2: In the other room, playing with his new toy.
Parent #1: That was a great find. Who knew that Playskool makes toys that teach toddlers about dielectric heating?
Parent #2: Playskool? I thought it said Kenmore on the door.
Parent #1: Hmm, must be some knockoff company. Well, I’m sure it will be fine. It is a baby toy, after all. The Craigslist post said so.
[from other room]: Beep. Beep. Beeeeeep. <<<ZAP>>> … sizzle
Parent #1: What happened to the lights?
Parent #2: What’s that burning smell?
Parent #1: Where’s Fluffy?
Okay, okay, that’s morbid. I was initially hoping this would be an instance of reflectoporn, but no such luck.
[edited by drmk: oops, I set this to publish in 2009, so it showed up way back in the archive. D’oh.]
So uh… how was babby cooked?
Well done.
With gravy.
I was thinking with asparagus.
Ick. Leading the list of World’s Worst Condiments: babby gravy.
But you must admit there’s a certain cyclical symmetry about roasted babby in a light diaper gravy.
YSaC – Best. Diet. Ever…
I thought that was an Easy-Bake Babby Oven by Hasbro….
Having “a bun in the oven” may not mean what we thought it means.
They’re small ovens; one bun is about all I could fit in there.
No way both cheeks are going in.
Easy-bake oven going to be hard-pressed to “cook” much with that 32W CFL lamp, too . . .
You might be surprised; a friend of mine bought someone a recipe book designed around the use of Easy-Bake Ovens. (Presumably, one makes only small portions and/or has plenty of time.)
…or they have plenty of light bulbs with which to generate heat and bubbling apple pies.
150watt works better. You have to mod away most of the plastic, but after that you’re violating a minimal number of fire hazard ordinances when using it.
If only Steve-O were here to approve this theory.
Stick a halogen bulb in that bad boy, those things get super hot. I think that’s what they use to boil the water in those fancy Japanese vacuum coffeemakers but I’m too lazy to look it up.
Yeah, those super sized ones they use in stage lighting are scary up close. When I was working as a stage hand in High School the auditorium manager told me a story about how he lit one of his work gloves on fire because he thought he could quickly reach in front of a spot light to adjust the focusing cone. Glove lit up in like 10 seconds of exposure. He had to flop his body onto his hand to put it out before it burned him.
I once got a sunburn (halogen-burn?) on the back of my neck changing a water pump on a truck at night in winter, working with one of those double light halogen worklights on a tripod behind me.
watched an e[isode of spcyh with an easy bake oven. shawn fried the make a pineapple upside down cake and it was gooeeey
The childhood term of endearment “cookie” has suddenly taken on a new and terrifying dimension.
Quite. Babby cookie does not lead the mind to sylvan ideals. (Diapers in separate listing.)
I need to go back and read how many times “Bees be upon him/her/them” were posted yesterday. Today’s ad is for a beekeeping starter kit.
OFF TOPIC BUT…
last time I listened to Car Talk a caller phoned in with the problem that when he used a sander on his truck, bees started swarming all round it (the truck). Remember that early post with the photo of a bee-enclosed pickup? Obviously it is fact-based and not a joke!
Car Talk recommended turning off the sander.
A sander? I had one of those on my old F150. Used it to spread sand on my driveway during winter. Never bothered by bees though………
…and later, kids, we’ll show you how to field strip and clean an AK-47…right after “Chainsaw 101” class…
Ah memories from my youth…
This afternoon’s classes are “Making Napalm with Common Household Items” and “How to rig your/your sister’s Easy-Bake Oven to keep the neighborhood cats out of your sandbox.” *
*Not advocating actual harm of cats, even ones that poop in sandboxes.
As usual, the recess activity will be Your Personal Best on the hanging rings over the alligator pit. And our condolences to little Bethy’s family, she was close to breaking the all time record.
Lunch today will be the usual K-rations to be eaten in the trenches while under enemy fire. Be quicker this time, the enemy doesn’t wait for you to finish your Salisbury steak before tossing those grenades.
I see we all went to the same school!
Anyone else remember Hand-to-Hand Combat Using Switchblades?
Good times.
My favorite class was The Art of Shiv-Carving. I still have the sharpened toothbrush I used on Legs McCrazieyes on the tetherball court behind the firing range.
That baby netted me an easy A.
I seem to recall that the remedial hand-to-stump switchblade combat class was popular, too.
One of my all-time favorite classes was Baseball Bat Wielding. I especially liked the final…Spike Fugglewitz was my
sparringlab partner. He had already been the Whack-A-Mole champion twice. We were assured an A.We had extremely updated fascilities at my school. Our Baseball Bat Wielding class even came with a semester where we used rail road spike upgrade kits to fashion our very own Nail Bats for the final.
I failed the class on toilet wine brewing. Mine ended up tasting like Cabernet Sauvignon instead of paint remover. I tried three times and I just couldn’t get it right.
I could teach CJ’s and Lola’s examples, and be Mindfield’s lunch monitor. The rest are more of an OJT thing. After all, toilet wine brewing is a very subjective field, what tastes good to me might not please your palette.
And who says my nail bat is any better or worse than yours just because I used rusty spikes and you used new ones?
Is Bombdude teaching these classes?
<sigh>
Y’all are joking, and the japery is quite good. But, there are aspects of my childhood which are being reflected factually.
So, yes, I’m the guy who in not getting out of the DMV line just because you have a chicken and a crowbar. no, I’m the one who can discuss the finer points of lesser and greater crowbars.
That, and Gospodin Kalishikov’s most-famous creation is a snap to field-strip; literally child’s play. Only challenge is one-handed (and the trickier bit is in the re-assembly.)
That’s ok, I’m used to people edging away at this point in the conversation; suddenly remembering pending funerals, organ transplants, and the like.
Professor Capn….sounds like you’re the most-qualified teacher at this school!
I’m sorry, Capn, I just remembered I have a pending organ funeral.
Nope, current hiring calculus is professor = phd; ergo, no phd = no job in teaching <sigh>
Was inculcated in the old-fashioned way, as padwan with two generations of masters about to educate and guide (although sensei-sempai-kohai might be more apt).
Also that hint of irony for having enough medical skills and training (and supplies) to correct/repair a range of damage equally well-known/well-experienced in application.
It’s those little things, like being taught–in late single-digits age–how to monitor a lead solder pot and how to keep the ladles warm for paking the joints in cast-iron soil pipe. Or being the person with digits/limbs skinny enough (goodness, how long ago that had been) to get chain breaking tools around plumbing stacks, and usch similar skills of aproximate modern use as smilodon grooming <sigh>
Just old and in the way (with all due apologies to the bluegrass band of the same name).
Also: Second hand cloth diapers? Am I the only one who thinks that 2-3 year old, well used cloth diapers should not be given away?
Oh I’m sure they’ve been washed, and the lucky recipient can easily wash the new acquisition themselves to assure they are “clean”; however, is the average parent really OK with wrapping their baby’s nether regions with a sarong of unknown origin? Or worse yet an origin tied up with an individual who thinks Orville EZ-Pop is edutainment?
I suppose there must be some people who are okay with what amount to cloth-based TP. It grosses me the hell out though, I don’t care how much bleach you use to clean them. I even get a little squicky about buying used jeans because I have no way of knowing if the previous owner preferred going commando.
Used cloth diapers are really good as cleaning cloths, dusting cloths, and cleaning up after pets cloths. That should be it.
I never minded using my kids old cloth diapers to clean with. They worked well. I kind of feel the same way MindField does about ones from other people.
Yeah, I’ve no problem using them as rags for around the house, they work better than just about anything short of hospital surgical towels.
But the tone of the ad seems to suggest they’re looking for people who will be using this stuff on children. I would not, under any circumstances, consider using second hand or hand-me-down underwear; especially those of dubious origins. Diapers are like underwear that you KNOW somebody had an accident in, but the extent of their carrier is questionable.
My philosophy with used items: If after 1 pass through the washingmachine I still don’t want to rub my face with an article of clothing, then it doesn’t get used as clothing anymore.
I have a few I bought used at a garage sale but I use them as general cleaning cloths and handkerchiefs, not nether-bits cozies. I wouldn’t have a problem using them for their intended purpose if they were in better condition (they are practically falling apart now) and I had children who needed them; diaper services do it all the time.
“Nether-bits cozies”<—–phrase of the day!
Also the band name of the day I think. With their hit single “Cupping Your Love.”
P.S. Unfortunately I have had too much chemistry in my education. My knowlege of the extent of chemical bonding of liquids makes the idea of diaper services revulting.
It has also bred a phobia of adhesives in me. If you want to see me freak out all you have to do is place a sticker on me or let tape touch my skin when I’m not prepared for it. *Squicks out just thinking about it*
TM – do you have to have the tags cut off the neck of your shirts too?
Amazingly, tags don’t bug me.
:Heads for Taco’s house with a book of stamps…:
This should make for an afternoon full of fun…
Tags on anything (clothing, towels, cords, pillows, what have you) bug the bejesus out of me. The Eyebrow household is a tagless household.
*snip, snip*
I hate tags. I rip tags off of every article of clothing I buy. I don’t even tag my MP3s. (Okay, that last part isn’t true.)
I’m interested in hearing Taco’s explanation for his fear of adhesives though.
PTSD from the Great Glue Stick Battle of Aught-Elebenty.
He must have been fighting on the Elmer’s side. The Uhus were always the favourites to win.
Adhesives bond at a molecular level, so it will actually penetrate the top layer of skin and affix layers of your skin to the upper dead layers like a skin and glue sandwich. Once you’ve pulled the paper “host” of the adhesive off the residue will hang onto your skin collecting a hodgepodge of detritus, one celled organisms, and more dead skin until the lowest layer of skin it adheres to finally dies and flakes off. Scrubbing an area that held adhesive only pushes it deeper into the skin and mooshes more stuff into it.
This is all after washing the visible goo off, of course.
I’m normally pretty stout when it comes to gross stuff, but for some reason adhesives just strike me as revolting on the same level that chewing gum does.
Ok, let’s have the chewing gum story…
I would have to read that after spending most of the day applying self-adhesive labels to file folders.
:puts boxes of labels in desk drawer, locks it:
Chewing gum is just gross in concept:
Flavored rubber bits that you chew to extract squishes of cooled, flavored saliva from as a means to control oral fixation! Sign me up!
Well, when your oral fixation is to overeat lots of sweet things, sugar-free chewing gum can help hold the line. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it. Ew.
I guess I can see where you’re coming from. That describes most of the food on the coffee truck that comes by my work twice a day. Actually, that describes the coffee, too.
People can have all the chewing gum they want as long as it doesn’t make its way into my mouth… or touches me.
Oh the other hand, once I’m master of the world sticking chewing gum to the underside of a piece of furniture will be an offense punishable by death. Death by chewing gum suffocation.
Same goes for spitting it on the street.
EDIT: And no, I’m not sure why I’m perfectly fine with the fact that anything you eat is mixed with saliva, some of which is extracted for taste when chewing. It seems somehow less gross that there is an intention to eat saliva sodden food rather than just chew it, swallow the flavored saliva, then spit out everything left over.
And there’s no reason I should like suckers so much (I love um!): A hardened, flavored sugar sphere on a stick that you wash your saliva over to dissolve the outer layer for consumption. Yum. *Shrug*
:unlocks drawer, drops in packet of Juicy Fruit, relocks drawer:
Living in NY I have discovered an odd phenomenon: many, many sidewalks and subway platforms are irregularly patterned with blackened chewing gum that was spat out and then trodden on. What I realized was that one basically never sees fresh chewed gum on the ground … unless it’s on the bottom of your new shoe and has attracted even more disgusting matter and you don’t discover this until you get home and take them off.
I read “Nether-bit cozies” as “Nether-bit cookies” and had to do a double take.
Bare Naked Ladies cover band?
Boy, they’ve really upgraded the EZ-Bake Oven since I was a kid.
Of course, this may be the reason there isn’t really a clear shot of any of the toys: Most of them are either puddles of amorphous plastic, or cremains. Oh, and there’s probably one doll that’s only half burnt, with most its hair fused to its plastic head, face covered in burn marks and blackened with soot, eye sockets charred and deformed — but the eyes look perfectly, eerily preserved. And it sits there, one arm missing, holes burnt in its body, staring. Always staring. And when you turn your back you’ll swear you hear it cry out, “Mama.” But of course you’ll turn back to it and nothing has changed. For now.
Crap, MF. You beat me to the Easy-Bake reference. Which, now that I think of it, sounds like a line from Cheech and Chong.
Chong: “Hey, man, what’s that?”
Cheech: “Oh this? It’s an Easy-Bake Oven.”
Chong: “Isn’t that for girls, man?”
Cheech: “No, no, man, this one is for grown ups. See, you put the weed in here, then you close the door, turn it on, and put your mouth over the exhaust here and just inhale.”
Chong: “Oh wow, man. Let me try…”
Exactly.
Cheech & Chong might be a good choice for EB’s movie watching today.
Not shown: the optional Giganto Ball O’ Fun Foil.
That makes it a toy for all ages!
Do not taunt Giganto Ball O’Fun Foil.
Giganto Ball O’Fun Foil is not to be played with. Do not show enjoyment of Giganto Ball O’Fun Foil in its presence. You should not laugh on, around, or near Giganto Ball O’Fun Foil.
Giganto Ball O’Fun Foil is serious business. To be used in times of great need only. Do not sit on Giganto Ball O’Fun Foil while in use. Giganto Ball O’Fun Foil may cause drowsiness, nausea, exsanguination and/or death. Do not use Giganto Ball O’Fun Foil while operating heavy machinery, operating light machinery, operating deus ex machinery, or operating. Giganto Ball O’Fun Foil is not your friend. Please do not try to offer Giganto Ball O’Fun Foil cookies.
I always wanted the Bag-O-Glass that Danny Aykroyd touted on SNL.
They have those. Go into any craft store and look in the section where they have the DIY mosaic stepping stones and you will find “Decorative Glass Pieces” – packages of broken glass.
From BLAMMO!!!
Obviously, Mrs. Sparky sorted all the things they were going to put on CL. Mr. Sparky took the photos and uploaded them to the computer. Baby Sparky posted the ads.
My thoughts exactly, Windy. That is most definitely a picture of a CD/DVD dryer.
It somehow does not surprise me that Baby Sparky is a better writer than most of the adult Sparkies who post.
I’d like to hope this is their attempt to be artistic. I’ll call it “Reflections of a Nuked Childhood.” It’s a contemporary piece that highlights the transition from childhood into adulthood by the use of toy reflections on a non-toy surface, and how becoming an adult overshadows the joy and innocence of childhood and why the hell is my bullshitometer going off… Must be defective.
I liked the reflecto-advertising as a post-modern commentary on the disconnect between our wants and needs vs. the things that are expected of us. The bright colors that are muted and cast back at us by the dark, glossy surface are reminiscent of the experiences of childhood as seen through the imperfect lens of memory while the toys peeping shyly around the edges remind us that childhood joys may still be there to be recaptured.
What bullshitometer? I destroyed mine in a microwave.
Usually it’s a rather handy little device I use to detect the Bullshitocity of a room full of people. It’s been on the fritz since I got here, though. *smacks it a few times against her palm* Shoddy POS.
I think the stark contrast of the bold black microwave with the stark white background iconifies the transition between the two worlds while the reflection of the toys signifies the insperability of the previous life from the next. The G floating up to the left above the microwave signifies man’s inhumanity to appliance.
Ok, premise accepted, but where is the “Webb’s Wonder”
cabbage head in all this?
Sparky is selling his “carousel” microwave oven because the ponies kept exploding every time he turned it on.
Exploding Ponies for band name of the day!
There was a band at home in the ’80s called the Exploding Fifis, from that urban legend about the old lady who put her poodle in the microwave to dry him off and supposedly nuked him instead.
Tonight, at the 40 Watt, Exploding Ponies perform their hit single, “I’m a Little Hoarse.”
I thought they were known for “Mine Hors in C Minor”….
Followed up by, “Please Move My Tail From My Forehead”.
Something tells me that the Robot Moose will be there in her be-tailed poncho, right in the front row!
Exploding Ponies is one of my favorite bands! Everyone come on down to the 40 Watt, tonight. Drinks are on me! I might even buy you some.
Yay! Toilet pinot grigio and Tang for everyone!
I took the pill 10 minutes ago. Stupid laptop isn’t seeing the interneters. My limbs feels little heavy/tingly but I don’t feel too weird yet.
Total incoherence in 10…9….8…7…6….
Only kinda. 45 minutes post-pill. Slightly drowsy/heavy limbed. Not feeling silly, but that’s because Mr is listening to public radio, and that makes me stabbity.
Start in on the silly movies now!
Stabbity is no mood to be in whilst on dental drugs.
Especially lest one grab the dentist in that “Well, no one is going to hurt anyone here, are they?” sort of way.
Good luck on your procedure EB………
Did you take the blue pill or the red pill? The future of the internets hangs in the balance.
Sorry for the sidelined entertainment… I never got silly/loopy/cranky at the dentist, and then ithe las thing I remember is the had to squeeze a wheelchair between some equpitment , I stumble/fell on it, and put my feet on the resters. NO CLUE what happened after that :-p I think I ate somepudding, and took a nap. And then took hydro and antibiotics, and took another nap. I’m feeling more alert now, I might watch a chick flick and eat some puddings 🙂
except he movie is fo because /mr is oucking up Mini and i don’ have anything to engage my head so im soooooo tured. it hought the drug wass supposed to be out of my by now but they gamve e a total of4 pills, so i got super druggered. i thill have punctuation but my shift key is missing becuase it’s too complicated to push two buttns at the same time.
Yes, darling, you were making perfect sense right about here.
A microwave oven? Bah. In my day, you young whippersnappers, two-year-olds were expected to do all of their cooking over an open campfire. To get to the campsite, we had to walk five miles through the snow, even in August. It was entirely uphill both ways.
And dinner was a cup of tree sap with roasted ferns. And we liked it!
Roasted rocks are nicely crunchy.
But we only got those if we finished our cedar bark and pine needle sammich.
And every night when we got home our parents would kill us and dance on our graves. If you weren’t back among the living the next morning, you’d go without breakfast and they’d toss you in the lake until you learned better.
…followed by a nice, thick pond scum shake!
And we would have to knit our own clothes out of poison ivy and the webs of poisonous spiders, after killing a mastodon so we could use the tusks for knitting needles. And heaven help you if you tried to remove the spiders first! You’d be labeled a wimp forever.
These parents are just trying to give their child every advantage, which in this case involves superpowers. They think of everything!!!
“So Exploding Potato Man, you think you’ve foiled my plans do you? Well think again!” Expanded Peepinator pulled the lever he had been concealing behind his monstrous stack of fluffy snack foods, throwing wide the trap door conveniently located under the feet of the hapless hero.
As Potato tumbled down the chute to-wards his uncertain fate, probably his demise, or possibly a swamp full of marshmallow snack foods, he couldn’t help but remember better times. His life hadn’t alway been this way.
Growing up he had had everything. Attentive parents, good schools, friends, a nineteen thousand watt microwave; everything. He would wile away his days microwaving foods for his family, friends, pets, and that small group of sentient toaster ovens that nobody wanted to talk about. Apparently one of them eventually went on to star in a movie, but most of them just ended up sponging off his sister’s successful cave reclamation and standardization business. He wondered idly if she still needed an assistant manager.
But then everything changed. Billy, as Potato is called in the other circle of his life, had always loved putting certain foods in the microwave and watching them explode, what kid didn’t. Potatoes were a favorite though, 5 minutes on high in a nineteen thousand watt microwave was all a boy needed for some concussive fun. But then came the day when his mother had brought him home a 10 pound Idaho russet. It was the biggest potato Billy had ever seen! It was glorious, and he had known with certainty that its fate in the microwave would prove it’s end to be glorious too.
The resulting explosion that rocked the east coast of the United States had sent out shock-wave that disabled every Microwave and Convection oven operating on the planet, while at the same time instantly cooking every hot pocket in existence to a perfect crispy brown. The resulting riotous feast had distracted the authorities long enough for little Billy to pick up the remains of his shattered life and flee into hiding. But with him being at the epicenter of the potatopocalypse, as it was later called, there had been an unforeseen change in him. The power to instantly burst any potato into a pile of scalding fragments was his alone.
With a tumbling thud, Potato exited the chute into a darkened room. He brushed himself off as he regained his feet and cast his gaze around, taking stock of his situation.
A group of men heavily armed with molten marshmallow throwers smiled back at him from the dim reaches of the room, “Looks like we’ve got ourselves a fresh one, eh boys?”
A tight grimace formed on Potatoes features as he surreptitiously unbuckled the pouch at his waist. He’d been in worse situations that this, but not many. His fist closed around a 10oz Nebraska red. The grimace turned into a grim smile. These men didn’t know who they were dealing with.
*handing Taco a dollop of Daisy*
You’re a dear for ignoring several of the errors I didn’t catch until a post-ajax re-read.
Curses.
At least you didn’t pull a Dan Quayle (Mr. Potatoe Head).
Except in the last paragraph..
I read that too quickly. I thought that last one was plural rather than possessive. Hrumph….
Nice avvie Bombdude… *chuckle*
Thanks! That’s my EOD assitant… “Minefield Kitteh”
But I thought Mindfield is a doggeh?
One letter… *BIG* difference…
thaat was too long to engage mt attention. but my tummy is full of puddings
Stoned EB seems overly concerned with pudding.
Mini is overly concernred with my yogurt. he thingks sit shoudl be his
EB, you should go post on Craigslist, and then we can all point at it and laugh.
😀
Ooh, you should do that, EB! I bet that would be hilarious.
This somewhat reminds me of the exploding zombies (Also known as Creepers) in MineCraft. You can always count on them to destroy hours of hard labor and sweat
I wanted to give Taco a door, but I have an invalid cookie. I think that means a cookie had a bad accident.
All of mine are reset, for reasons I cannot explain.
Why can’t there just be Mint Brussels and be done with it?
My cookies at home disappeared too for some reason. Typed up a post (thankfully short) only to get an error about entering my username. So I redid it and it’s fine.
Cookie Monster is lurking hereabouts.
This is probably the favorite toy.
My child used to play with the turntable roller wheel from our microwave. Now I can’t find it. And it’s not unusual for me to find the rolling pin or other kitchenware in another room. I was excited at first thinking my son would grow up to be the next Emeril Lagasse. But, it seems he only wanted to use it destroy the bad guys.
Tupperware and the rolling pin are the greatest “Whee Hahas” in the house for Tron. He also has some kind of Tupperware sixth sense that allows him to immediately find Tupperware in a house he’s never been to.
Apparently my Tupperware lids are not Tron-worthy. I had to show him where they were in hopes of distracting him with the happiness Tupperware brings and, in the end, I don’t think a single lid got played with. Sadness.
Inferior Auntie Tupperware. Even toddlers have standards. 8)
What a well-written ad. I don’t understand why it’s being featured here.
Picture? What picture??
I’d place the writing at “nearly sublime.” The poster even managed to spell “separate” correctly. (It’s one of those “make or break” words that a select few appear to spell correctly on a consistent basis. I never expect anyone to get it right any more but I weep a little inside whenever I see it spelled wrong.)
Moira, I learned the correct spelling of separately when I had to write over and over if a group of people applying for aid were a separate household or not. It was right there on the forms, and I can be taught. 8)
I lesasarned because my mom said htat there were two brothers and they were named sep and rate and they lived in a tent. sepArate
I learned it by remembering there is A RAT in the middle.
As for cloth diapers, my sister’s mother-in-law is pretty much insane. Bad insane, not good like our side of the family. She sent her a nice fleece suit for Christmas. MiL complained that it was too big and sent it back. Sis decided to use it as diaper covers for her baby since MiL said everybody was sh!tting on her all the time.
I used to have a microwave that looked like that. It didn’t work half the time.
[OT]
MeatWater. MEATWATER.
That is all.
[/OT]
Meatwater, meet HamCan
That’s Meatwater VOID. Which is what I have a hankering to want to do.
That is one of the most disgusting beverages I have seen today.
I notice the bottles say “biologically diluted.” What does that even mean? I’m getting something about watering down the genepool here.
According to the close up of the bottle, the Dirty Hot Dog flavor contains 3% rat urine. Would that be considered a “natural flavor” or a “biological dilutant”?
:Opens drawer, tosses in his pack of rat urine flavored hot dogs, closes drawer, locks it:
I thought you were kidding.
Oh God, you’re not kidding. Although I only see the warning “may contain 3% urine” — but I guess they wouldn’t use human urine because somehow that’s worse than freaking rat piss.
The bottle also says, “Raise serving temperature for massive flavour!”
Warm rat piss.
*hurk*
Okay, seriously, this is just a big leg pull, right? This can’t be for real.
Read the description for the flavor. They are insinuating that it’s urine from the hot-dog vendor.
I’ve eaten vendor hot dogs!
*Hurf*
If you’ll all excuse me.
*Runs out of the room*
Ew. Just eeeeeeew.
Why did I click?!?!?!?
he peed on it
Is it weird that I REALLY want to try This:
http://dinnerinabottle.com/irish-lamb-stew
I notice they categorize “Bangers ‘n Mash” under “Ladies Choice.” Uh-huh.
*snort*
You know, the more I read their sidebar, the more confused and disturbed I get.
Ballpark specials include such baseball classics as Italian meatballs, Swedish Köttbullar, and Königsberger Klopse. Mmm-mmm, brings me right back to Dodger Stadium, that does.
“Stuffed Quail” (also conveniently under “Ladies’ Choice”) also sounds euphemistic.
The Midnight Snacks category also includes “Mountain Oysters.” Because many is the time I’ve gotten up in the middle of the night feeling a little peckish and thought to myself, “Man, I could really go for some testicles. If only they came in drinkable form.”
Future Survival lists Kebobalypse and Shawarmageddon which, in an uncanny coincidence, is what I refer to my trips to the bathroom after I’ve eaten Kebabs and Shawarma.
I’m going to stop looking at that site because I’m getting a little freaked out.
urp.. urp!… Urp!… URP!
This is the reason I tend to eat vegetarian
http://dinnerinabottle.com/venison-confit
Urp… And I *like* meat…
I love vension! I have, thus far, helped clean, process, and butcher into individual cuts 6 deer (I’m a newbie). It wasn’t nearly as bad as I was expecting, and I got tasty meat from it.
However, I still find Venison-Confit water a disgusting concept. If anyone needs me I’ll be
in my squirrel costumein my bunkcowering under my desk with my head between my knees.deer jerky is tasty.s o is elk steak
I’ve been playin’ all day, my diapers wet when you feel
There’s a deuce in my pants that I made for you
It’s my momma I’m callin’, say I need to burp
And it’s half past time to powder my rear
When I get hungry and the longing gets too much
She sends a nipple coming in from above
We don’t want cold formula at all
We’ve got a thing that’s called radar range
I’ve got a microwave in my room, radar range
Done deal! I can go home now.
This is better than the original song.
*rubbing Hammy’s belly*
*wags*
Stop it! Mudsy, stop it at once. No tummy rubs in the Snark Lounge. Get a kennel, you two!
After hanging upside down for too long, one begins to think “WHY ARE THEY MICROWAVING CHILD TOYS?!”
Or the missing batteries for same?
(Please note, there are those who are convinced that batteries can be preserved by storing them in a freezer. I find it difficult to not imagine that such people are not related to those who think that the “Defrost” setting on the m/w is required before use.)
Tommyknockers
These are the people who confuse batteries with film.
We used to do that in my family (Store batteries in the freezer) but we never did defrost the microwave…. Although, in hindsight, if we had a defrost button, we probably would have done that
My favorite Midwestern Misnomer is the term: “De-thaw”.
My wife used to use it a lot and couldn’t understand why I would tease her about it.
“Do we need to de-thaw this before cooking with it?” *Holds up frozen chicken.*
“Looks pretty dethawed to me. You may consider re-thawing it a tad in addition to the de-thaw to make it easier to slice.”
Anymore I’ll be in the freezer: “Well, we can use some of this stew meat for the stir fry. I’ll just need to de-thaw it!” *Look over my shoulder with impish smile*.
Wife rolls her eyes, “Shut up, Taco.”
I hear it at work all the time too. I just clench my jaw and foam a the mouth a bit until they go away.
i thnknnk If i clecnhed my sawy it would hurt
Is “clecnhing my sawy” the Bangladeshi equivalent of getting your panties in a bunch?
I’m going to need someone to point out on a diagram where a “sawy” is located as well as instructions on how to “clecnh” it.
It sure sounds dirty from over here.
Granted, I keep trying to parse “sawy” as “savi”, after a whole morning of Latin *pornunciations.
Carpe omnia!
*I’ll leave it the way I misspelled it just for all y’all folks.
Perhaps would a sawi be where you put an unblubler?
Maybe they ran out of children to microwave.
*Flicks a door, along with a big fluffy Alot named Harry*
Do babbies explode in the microwave like potatoes?
I may have to borrow someone’s child and experiment.
You’re a scientist, AR. I’m sure you know exactly what you’re doing.
Just tell them it’s for science. Or ponies. Kids like ponies.
yes
Am I the only one reeeeeaaaaaallly hoping EB comes back post-dentist?
*raising hand*
Hehe…kinda like “David After Dentist”….?
If anything makes one question “is this real life?” it’s CraigsList postings.
Ditto
I’m hope she does log in, but I am pretty sure I won’t get any fun out of it until much later today, when I get home. I have about 30 min. left of lunch, then will be busy as (insert homely simile* here) until 5:30 Left Coast time.
I dn’t remembmer coming home,, the last thinkg I remember I was trying to get intoa wheelchair that was jammed intot eh eara by the chair. i don’t rememver the elevator or the outside or the car or getting out of the car. I think I rememmber Mr putting me in teh recliner adn giving me a blanket. then I slet adn got pudding. it made my tummy hurt, though. the yogurt wa better, I think i want a jamba jucie, though. Ecleot i’m relally tired.
I remember (vaguely) being this high at a KISS concert.
i wdon’t want any ksiseese. The bottom front part of my jaw feels like it got punched and then tuffed wiuth cottongnin
Wow, a mouth stuffed with an entire cotton gin. That’s a big mouth 😉
Yeah, but now everything she says is just going to be spin.
You must be tired if you think you’re explaining this to an ocelot. Unless you have a pet ocelot, in which case, squeeeeeee ocelot!
The ocelot was my favorite part, also. 🙂
Oh, I am so glad I checked in tonight! Laughter to the point of tears! EB, I Ecleot you.
Ditto what MandaB says!! Only it’s morning here. Holy sh*t, even better than I expected.
Good news, EB! I found us a cake!
How to make it!
There is no joy in Muddville cause Taco’s comment is still awaiting moderation.
I think they’re telling me to post less? In moderation mayhap?
T THINK I FIGUREed it out. all the parkies are on sleeping pills and pain pills during the day, notivce how im typing susplitiocusly like them/.
Boy is she going to regret this tomorrow!
I like banana susplits too!
I’m not fussy about banana susplits. I give them to the parkies. They like them.
i dont lke nanaannas
What about ape eels?
ok. cmutper is dying so iab heve to do. sorry all…
Awwww….
:waves:
Bye, Stoned EB!
Did she just say she has heve to do? Didn’t think you could plan that sort of thing. It always seems to creep up on me. Urp!
Maybe that’s how she’s trying to exorcise the demon drug.
NEW! from Marie Calendar*’s!1!
Microwaveable Babby!
Microwave on HIGH for 5:30 to 8:00 and let stand 1:30, then enjoy!
WARNING: Food may be hot.
Also, I didn’t expect to be able to use this link again on here, but here you go.
*Yes, I know that’s not how it’s spelled. That’s the point.
I can’t wait 2.5 hours for dinner.
oww
EB, take a couple more pills, there’s a good mommy.
Tonight, on our center stage, I present a tandem Punchity Punch Punch to Litarider and sarajean80! Congratulations, Snarkers!
G’Night, Iowa!
:steals one of EB’s happy pills:
wheee!1 hit me again!
puddings.
Just got home at 1:15am EST. Left the lab at 5:30. That’s 7 miles in nearly 8 hours. I hate snow.
Glad you are home safe, AR; that’s crazy. You might have done better walking. Now that snow is up here and my work is not closed, so it’s my turn to go out in it.
NOTE for Llama-Nun: I have changed no cookies or cleared or deleted anything and was just asked to put in my name/email to post this. Apparently the site deleted them on its own? 6:38 am EST.
I’m pretty sure last night was when things got migrated to the new server, so maybe that was the deal?
Ohnoes! So sorry to hear this, AR. Glad you made it home safe.