People keep telling me: “I wouldn’t eat that. That’s Franken-food.” I had originally thought that meant Jewish food.
And while it turns out that ‘Franken-food’ is a brand of Matzoh ball soup distributed out of Akron Ohio, (its really good and is available in low sodium too) it also means food that’s been genetically modified.
“That’s got chemicals in it!” I heard someone say to me in a screaming motherly voice (it was my mother screaming at me) while I was in line at Popeye’s buying a tub of chicken things.
“Well,” says I, “Chemicals were the primordial soup that gave birth to life on Earth. If they’re good enough to spontaneously create life in a warm ocean, they’re good enough for me to pound into my wide, gaping, love-starved, snack hole.”
By the way: Do you think comparing my lunch to Frankenstein’s Monster will keep me away? Have you ever seen the movie Frankenstein? That undead Monster is frickin’ awesome! He’s a tall, darkly handsome, charismatic, and memorable figure.
He’s like Barack Obama, for Chrissakes!
(For the record, I’m voting for Hilary because I’m chivalrous.)
I think that Frankenstein’s Monster has got a bad rap.
He can’t help it that he dislikes fire.
I dislike fire. Are you gonna hate me for that? Not only do I hate fire, I hate it when campfire smoke makes my hair stink for days after my camping trip. Are you gonna chase me into a windmill with pitchforks because of it? You probably would. Fascist.
I remember when they cloned Dolly the sheep and everybody was all up in arms about it. And then when I broke into the lab and bestiality-ed Dolly to death everybody got all up on their high horses. You just can’t have your cake and eat it too, world!
I’m no genius, and I don’t know much about genetics, but I do know that mine gave me a predisposition for gambling and warts. So all you ‘organic and natural’ hippies can help yourselves to your ‘mulch pile grown celery’ and your ‘MSG free tofu beef jerky’ all you want. Just leave me and my glowing, throbbing third arm alone.
Ryan McGivern
“Now we’ll have to draw some blood.”
Okay, I did yell at your mom last night, but I promise by the Statue of Liberty’s right foot that it is not what you think. The evening started well enough, meeting your parents for a candlelight dinner. It was perfectly kind of them to give me that twelve foot cactus; I’ll put it in the dining room next to my Audubon Society “pelican” plate collection. I didn’t realize your dad was so drop dead good looking. I don’t think I’ve seen a man that handsome this side of Mexican telenovellas!
You know the scene in Goonies where Sloth rips open his shirt revealing a Superman shirt underneath? That’s how I feel right now because I have viable sperm.
“Your volume was well over normal and usually with high volume, the actual sperm counts will come back lower. But yours stayed quite high so it was a great sample and we froze it.”
“I feel such power. Yesssss. Yes. I am God here! In the place of a Dark Lord you would have a Queen! Not dark but beautiful and terrible as the Morn! Treacherous as the Seas! Stronger than the foundations of the Earth! All shall love me and despair!” My head revolved 180 degrees and then I puked green pea soup in the nurse’s
The problem arises with the seductive concept of free food — perhaps at a Super Bowl party, an employee staff meeting, a hotel continental breakfast. Those unguarded coffee cakes, muffins, potato chips, croissants, cookies, cereal, pasta — a thousand shades of empty brown carbs, sawdust disguised as food. I stuff my face and belly galaxies beyond their capacities on my way to feeling heavy, bloated, and exhausted. Inside my binges, I don’t actually taste or enjoy the food so much as shovel it repetitiously inside me. And my only stopping points are when the food is gone or when someone provides me that sexy look of disgust.
Cheese contains tryptophan, an essential amino acid that aids with production of serotonin and melatonin, natural chemicals that regulate sleep and brain patterns. A study by the British Cheese Board surveyed the effects of varieties of cheeses on types of dreams. For example, it reports that of eaters of Red Leichester (nibbling an hour before bedtime), “over 60% of participants … revisited their schooldays, or long-lost childhood friends, or previous family homes and hometowns.” I’ve experimented with Stilton four times now and have been blessed with purely whimsical fantasy sequences that Roger Ebert would give three thumbs up to the moon, grasping its craters like a bowling ball, and aiming for Saturn’s moons. Cheese dreams might be a fine reason for vegans to reconsider the rigidness of their dietary belief systems and permit their lives a bit more color. 
As I’m sure you are well aware, August 6th was National Rootbeer Float Day. To celebrate, let your lovely eyes and tongue tango over this recipe for a 
