Tag Archives: humor

The melon-choly days are come.

Well, hot damn.  Not all healthy food is stultifyingly gross to eat.  I can’t remember the last time I ate watermelon — maybe in college?  I’m pretty sure that watermelon-flavored Jolly Ranchers don’t count.

But this is a miracle food.  I didn’t have to add any salt or sugar ore even fry it in order for it to taste delicious.  Why didn’t people advise me to eat this to start with?

Tomorrow — tofu.  Or maybe not.  I bought a tray of that #$%*, but it’s been sitting in my fridge for a while now, because I’m too afraid to open it.  I swear to you … the loose, cool weight of it in that little plastic dish feels precisely how I would expect a slice of prepackaged cadaver to feel in my hands.  I might leave it out for the turkey vultures.  (Note to New Yorkers — the South indeed has these truly enormous birds called “turkey vultures” or “turkey buzzards.”  You kinda have to see it to believe it.)  I’ll update you guys.

 

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I try weird $+&# so that you don’t have to.

This is “veggie bacon.”  Its ingredients are soy and disappointment.

The package portrayed it as “delicious,” which is precisely the kind of dangerous, calculated lie I’d expect from a jailed serial killer or Craigslist personal ads or the White House Press Secretary.

Alright, maybe I’m being too harsh.  This isn’t the worst thing I’ve ever tasted.  It tastes better than it smells, so there’s that.  (When I was frying it and noting its failure to sizzle, I recoiled from what I can only describe as a vague, radioactive-carrot odor.)

It just doesn’t taste like bacon.  It maybe tastes like processed pork rinds.  Seriously.  They ought to call it “veggie pork rinds.”

 

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Southern hospitality, I guess.

Chilling in the Star City with a café mocha — courtesy of a super-cool writer pal. Thinking up some future stories.  (Thank you, m’Dear.)  No, I cannot close a Starbucks lid correctly — it’s why I’m always spilling coffee on myself.

Everyone is so extraordinarily nice in this town.  People actually slow their cars to a stop to allow you to cross the street — even when they have the right of way!  They even make eye contact, and smile and nod when they do it!  Such a thing would be virtually unheard of in New York, which is basically Thunderdome when compared with Roanoke.

How can such vast numbers of people in this city be so polite?  This city might be the eighth wonder of the world.

I need to learn to be a little more pleasant and sociable to match the spirit of humanity here.  I can think of it as getting into “Roanoke-mode.”

 

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The greatest town in all of North America …

… nay, the world.

Thank you, good people of Tennessee, for naming your home for me.  I am humbled, and I will do everything I can to live up to this honor.

Hey … those streets are cleaner than my kitchen right now, and they have 100% more blackberries.

 

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Never presume.

Never presume.

When you presume, you make a pres out of u and me.

 

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KILL IT WITH FIRE.

I swear this spider was as long as my thumb.   I could have put my shoe or maybe a quarter next to it for scale, but I don’t want to stick any part of my body near this thing, and I don’t want to subsidize its hellish agenda.  (I did kinda zoom out so that you can compare it to the size of the curb.)

What does it eat?!  Birds?!  Why does it appear to have racing stripes?!

To quote the immortal Ellen Ripley, I say we take off and nuke the site from orbit.  It’s the only way to be sure.

Update: someone is trying to persuade me that this is a “garden spider,” and that they are quite harmless.  I’m not sure I buy that.

 

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(This should really appeal to your basssse.)

Mr. President, here’s a brilliant idea.  Why don’t we combine your plans for the border moat and your plans for the Space Force and just launch snakes and alligators into space?

Designing spacesuits for the snakes would be a challenge — as would the question of how they would hold their laser guns.  But if we pulled it off, we could call it the Ssssssspace Force.

Locating the snakes to recruit would be easy. Just look at any Republican Congressman still supporting you.

 

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Why do I feel attacked?

The meme below was created by J.D. Smith.  I’ve met at least two of these criteria.  I’m embarrassed to say which.

Gonna write me a poem based on a pun.

Gonna call it “No Poem Intended.”

 

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“Chihuahuaiku,” by Eric Robert Nolan

All the little dogs

chasing and biting me can

just go f*** themselves.

 

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Photo credit: By David Shankbone – Own work, CC BY 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=5136536

“Lyin’-ass Advertiser Haiku,” by Eric Robert Nolan

“Delicious, woven”

wheat crackers — a carefully

woven, willful lie.

 

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