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Thursday, September 28, 2006

Conspiracy Theory # 87 - Scientists Discover That Almost ANYTHING can be called a "Meat Patty"

You know that commercial for Kosher meats with the slogan "No Ifs, ands, or Butts?"

Now, I've had this little theory rumbling around in my brain for years - but now, my suspicions are more than justified.

I knew that things like balogna and hot dogs were made of the "leftovers" (most of them, anyway), and I let that slide, simply avoiding those "foods" at all costs. But what exactly is a "meat product?" Every living mammal is made of fat and muscle - meat - so is anything we produce a "meat product?" Is spit a meat product? Tears? Poo???

/shudder

I'm not Jewish, but I must say these people were WAY ahead of their time with this Kosher thing. Seriously. How did they know that someday in the future any part of a mammal would be used and mass-distributed to the public as "food?" Note the quotation marks. Don't get me wrong, I'm all for not wasting things, but come on...

There's also a rumor that KFC is now going by "KFC" instead of "Kentucky Fried Chicken" because their "chicken" isn't really chicken. Hmm, that brings to mind all the jokes about things from alligator meat to snails that "taste like chicken." Not so funny now : \ I'm not saying it's true (please don't sue me, Colonel Sanders) but it makes you wonder....

I was informed the other day too, that "carne asade" (sp?) is actually the meat shaved off the face of an animal. !?!?!?!

There goes my love for Taco Bell. "Yes, I'd like a cow-face taco, add cheese, extra cow face, an eyeball - oh, and put some butt on there while you're at it."

Ever heard the term, "You are what you eat"? No wonder there's so many assholes roaming the streets.

I'm off to eat my salad now. Lettuce, tomato, carrots and cabbage only. Dry.

Until next time....

Conspiracy Theory # 292: Boredom Breeds Destruction

hmm. So I'm at work (shhhhh) and I don't have a single, solitary thing to do. The phone is silent, the door stays shut, all the files are filed, the copies copied, and the dictations - um - dictated. Granted, I'm paid fairly well to do pretty much nothing, but I find that when my brain comes to a halt, It takes some time and effort to get it back into gear.

Actually, that explains A LOT.

When I was a kid, sitting at a computer like this with absolutely nothing to do wouldn't have been so bad - I'd have turned the computer off, gotten up, and found something else to do. Usually that something involved lighting stuff on fire, but that's a compltely diferent issue.

For the record: No, I'm not a Firebug.

Or a Pyro.

Not really, anyway.

But I digress.

It's times like these that my mind wanders into those forbidden zones, 45 degrees from nowhere, where one pictures themselves half-naked on a beach in Maui sipping Pina Coladas while Matthew McCaughnahey fans them with a giant feathered fan --- or maybe that's just me.

Either way, it gets me in trouble.

I can already see my husband reading this later, and cornering me - "Matthew, huh?"

Aside from that, who wants to be dreaming of chiseled rippling muscleness one minute, only for that thought to be broken into and cruelly violated, though unwittingly, by some crusty lawyer or client voice on the telephone.

But that's only the first danger.

I once French Manicured my nails with correction fluid - that's some POTENT stuff. After sitting in an unventilated room breathing THAT stuff for an hour or two, I wound up answering the phone - the ONLY call of the day, mind you - with, "*name deleted*'s orafice, how may I help you?"

So when I started my next job, I avoided the Correction Fluid, but alas, boredom never failed to fill my mind with destructive, demented, and sometimes downright STUPID ideas for keeping me occupied.

As for the fire thing - well, saying that it was back when I was a teenager was stretching it a bit.

But that's story for another time, as I must leave my post (pun only half-intended) and go put out a - I mean, answer the phone.

Later :)

Tuesday, September 26, 2006

Feels like a Monday

Conspiracy Theory # 198 :

Whoever created Mondays, was a sick *expletive deleted*

And isn't it just my luck to have not just one Monday in a week, but two - so far.

I need an old priest and a young priest, for my psychotically opressive, possessed printer/scanner/copier at work. I tried throwing holy water on it, it just piddled it out on the copy I had FINALLY gotten it to spit out.

And my car - don't get me started! Apparently it hasn't had it's rabies shots, it's foaming all over the battery. Or whatever that box thing is that the cables connect to. lol. I'm not that blond, I swear, I'm just tired.

I'm going to bed.

I don't know who you are, oh ye who cursed us with proverbial Mondays.... but I salute you.

*censored*
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