Out of Anger at the Lakers' Loss... I Lash Out with Crude Photoshopping

Thank you Frank!

Who knew vinegary hot sauce and fried chicken wings could taste so good? Like the Pavlovian dog that I am, my mouth keeps watering every time I think about it. I'm going to become a fixture at Harold's Chicken Shack #47. It turns out they had their grand opening earlier this month. I'll never forget who gave me my first wing dude.

KFC: An Innerspace Odyssey

Kim reminded our brave group of five last night before we set off into the early, spring evening for the KFC on University Avenue of the following adage: Remember the lessons of the past. You gorge on KFC and you feel sick. A month later you forget and the fried chicken cravings start all over again.

We didn't listen - but as you can see from this handy diagram, the ears are not a part of the digestive system (please, no Deleuzean critiques in the comments section about the body, its organs and its systems, because I'm sure you were so just about to go there).


The Odyssey of KFC:

1:
The cornucopia of riches that KFC (or "KFCucopia") offers enters your mouth (last night this included honey bbq boneless wings; extra crispy wings and drumsticks, gravy, green beans, corn, biscuits, cole slaw, and even more gravy that you fondly refer to as "meat soda").
MOOD: Frenzied but happy.

2:
Yay Saliva! The mouth's natural lubricant to ease the bounty down. KFC gravy assists with the lubrication process.
MOOD: Still frenzied. Still happy.

3,4,5,6
Don't have much to say about you... too busy eating fried chicken.
MOOD: Smug, happy, with a beginning onset of greasiness.

7:
The hardly chewed food begins to make its way down through the espophagus. Were this an image of my esophagus last night, you would be able to detect the faint outline of a drumstick I may or may not have swallowed whole.
MOOD: Sluggish but content. Definitely feeling greasy.

8:
Once the food reaches the stomach research has shown that KFC products act much like those little capsules you had when you were a kid that expand fifty times their original size into sponge dinosaurs when you place them in water.
MOOD: A contest between remorse and sleepiness. Remorse sets in as you begin to question if the second biscuit and all of those swigs directly from the styrofoam gravy container were really necessary. As you contemplate their comedic necessity, an overpowering sense of fatigue sets in that attempts to battle the remorse. This may or may not be linked to a "forget-me-now" chemical that KFC adds to their food items - after all, who can remember their digestive unhappiness if they are asleep?

9 and 10:
Your body continues to battle the onslaught of fats, preservatives, and other noxiously delicious KFC chemicals.
MOOD: Rage. If you have resisted the food's "forget me now" sleep agent, you become filled with rage and disbelief at the Colonel. Who wears white when they're eating fried chicken anyway?

11:
It's the next day and much of the KFCucopia exits from your body.
MOOD: No comment.

welcome back!

animal kingdom

I would like to make it clear for the record: I was thousands of miles away when Winston the Cat's person was violated with an object of clothing for the purpose of photographing and exploiting his moronic cuteness. Sure sure, you all thought it would be me that would be the one to make Sikky or Winston wear clothing but it wasn't (btw, Easter or no, my first choice would have been a plucky little felt pirate hat - it's totally a sea theme and everyone knows cats love fish).

Meanwhile, I was exploring the Woodland Park Zoo today where I witnessed the following sad scene unfold at the gorilla exhibit:


Although it's pretty obvious what is going on in the picture sequence above, let me just break it down for you:
[Frame 1]: In a moment hearkening back to the rock giant Biter in The Neverending Story, the gorilla looks down at his hands that clutch nothing and he considers all that he has lost and stands to lose during his stay at the Woodland Park Zoo.
[Frame 2]: The gorilla vomits into his hands.
[Frame 3]: The gorilla eats his own vomit. This went on for about fifteen minutes. Hey - at least it drove most of the kids away from the exhibit.
[Frame 4]: This was taken after a heart-to-heart I had with the gorilla and presented him with a copy of Chicken Soup for the Primate Soul. Yet another life transformed by a metaphorical hot dose of restorative broth.

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