Some people are vegetarians with the exclusion of fish or poultry for health reasons. I'm a vegetarian with the exclusion of beef because I really fuckin' hate cows.

UPDATE: Aunt Jemima Syrup Continues Containing Child's Blood

After further investigation, Aunt Jemima has been arrested and jailed following allegations that her breakfast syrup contains child's blood. Police raided her wooden shack in the Southeastern United States and discovered a secret network of under ground bunkers, dug by the child slaves Jemima fattens for the slaughter and lined with their bones. Officer Paul Braxton was present at the scene.
"It was awful", he said. "Everywhere you looked there were dirty children in cages, moaning in agony. Occasionally syrup would be drizzled over the cages to feed them. Feeding children with their own blood..." Braxton then vomited in a nearby trashcan.
Jemima, or "Auntie", as she would force the children to call her before she forced them to perform sexual favors on her 80-year-old body, was taken from the complex in a bloody battle police are referring to as "Flapjack Friday". She tore the jugular vein of a police officer who was trying to contain her and sent an entire SWAT team to the ER with third degree burns after pouring blistering hot syrup on them as they attempted to enter.
Further details were revealed in the ensuing investigation. Jemima's trademark red bandana is actually used to mop up the blood that drips from her mouth after feasting on infant kidneys, one of her favorite snacks. She reportedly kept a bowl of them on her desk at all times. Files were found connecting Jemima's evil complex to some of her other products. Police have made no official statement, but anonymous sources say that the pancake mix consists of ground bones and dried child semen and that the cornbread mix is made of corn that was grown in overly dry conditions.

Aunt Jemima Syrup Made From Child's Blood

Researchers who were investigating children's diabetes recently made a surprise discovery that Aunt Jemima brand breakfast syrup is mainly composed of child's blood.
"We were obtaining a blood sample from a boy who had recently eaten pancakes", said researcher Bernard Worrelstein, "and for some reason we couldn't explain, the DNA of the sample did not match a previous one we had taken. "
"We discovered that the change in blood makeup was due to a syrup patch on the boy's arm right where we had inserted the needle. After testing the syrup on its own, we determined that it is over 90% child's blood. We feel that this has serious implications for the [boring scientific mumbo jumbo]", said Worrelstein.
Investigations are currently being made to fully determine the truth behind these allegations. In unrelated news, Aunt Jemima stock has recently risen 32 points.

This counts as Thursday

ps- I'm not drunk.

My best friend had a cat. Said cat used to piss on his towels. It died this summer. We took it to the vet in a towel. That was the last towel it ever soiled.

A Statement on Practicality

We seem to be lacking in practicality every day, and the way in which I usually notice this is in the style of our populace. Until the prevailing style involves muumuus and tool belts, I probably will never be satisfied. However, we as a people are missing one glaring opportunity. There is a way to combine practicality and style into the most potent orb of bad-assness. A way that involves only some grooming and natural growth. A way that will lead you to the afro (a variant of this term being jew-fro, another perfectly acceptable look).

The afro is not only fashionable with its shape and volume, but can double as a useful storage device for anything from a comb to a toothbrush or some toothpicks to clean your teeth after meals. I have even seen a glorious movie called Foxy Brown in which the protagonist pulled a pistol from her fro and wasted a room full of people. Therefore, the fro can even save your life. It is the ideal blend of a tool belt and a designer gown. People, get on it.

I recently saw a commercial for a Burger King sandwich called the "Angry Whopper". It shows a farmer "torturing" a young onion (using whips, electrocution, etc). This "angry onion" is then put into the aforementioned burger. A customer, upon eating the burger, actually yelps in pain from the intensely spicy flavor of the product.

Despite the utter stupidity of this advertisement, it struck on a trend I have noticed throughout American cuisine: the love of foods so spicy that they cause intense physical pain. Thinking from a marketing perspective, I realized that this concept could translate into a whole set of other opportunities. I have created a burger of ultimate discomfort, which I plan on selling to either McDonald's or Wendy's as soon as possible.

I call it: The Ultimate Burger of Doom.

The Ultimate Burger of Doom's advertisement will begin by explaining the concept of "angry beef", the central component of the recipe. A farmer will be shown "torturing" a young cow (using whips, electrocution, etc), slaughtering it, and storing the meat for two weeks in a 120-degree environment. Upon eating the burger, a customer will actually yelp in surprise, then rush to the bathroom, where he/she will spew diarrhea for days with such forcefulness that they risk death. There will then be a scene where the customer lies on a hospital bed, arms and legs stuck full of IVs which make a vain attempt to rehydrate them. Their ass is still actively spewing matter, though at this point it is mostly rice-water. As they look back over their life, they reminisce over all the burgers they have eaten, and realize that The Ultimate Burger of Doom was indeed the best. At this point we will cut to quick clips of raging bulls, screams of "Can you take it?!?!", and other images that will incite our customers to feel emasculated if they don't sample our burger.

"The Ultimate Burger of Doom...your ass is grass. Or more accurately, a literal river of shit."

The following is a limerick about "Eloisa to Abelard", the poem by Alexander Pope

A lady penned up in a yard,
wrote to her sweet Abelard.
The quills of her pen
sung insatiable yen,
that sweet Abelard would fuck her hard.