1/29/09

Not fud, just my roots

Can't imagine how my mom from Belfast by way of NYC adapted.

Not fud, unless you count

my endlessly repeated story of the editor at the NYT in 1982 who went bonkers over a story already on the desk about Capitol Hill volunteers passing out sandwiches to the many homeless in DC -- he was bellowing, "We can't run this! It makes Washington look like Calcutta!" Facts really are stubborn things.  

Not fud, just LOL

One legacy.

Pie hole

You can't say it enough (although it's not in the dictionary as one word). 

No end to the evil

the evildoer did. Good thing for Rogue Creamery et al. 

(Filched from the Aristocrats

Not fud, just damning

And this doesn't even include NPR's bending over. Didn't these guys lose? 

Good

point. Never realized PETA was run by Turd Blossom. 

Things are bad

when Velveeta starts to look like cheese. Kraft guy should know it's going for at least five times less than real Cheddar, though. 

1/28/09

1/27/09

He could, in fact, write

a cheese book

Mr. Thain goes to Hollywood

WTF? 

Forget the White House garden

Why are we ignoring the elephant in the country? 

If only half this energy

could be devoted to real food issues. . . .

Thinking

in bar graphs and Chinese.

An LOL

that keeps on giving.

The kosher symbol

is not the only cookie concern.

I haven't had the nerve

to read it in "print," but they ran it, so here it is. Logo, by the way, is by the inimitable Stephen Kroninger. Those were the good old days when his work ran in DI/DO. . . 

1/21/09

1/7/09

Room service, the sequel

Two questions: Where is the Poodle sleeping that night? And is this really the proper reception for a guy who was greeted with "Shyme! Shyme!" everywhere we went in Australia as Iraq was being invaded?  

Not fud, just necessary

He did not keep us safe from 9/11. 

I hope there's a whole chapter

in the memoir on how bad taste just cannot be cured. Could they really not have left the choice to the new residents? The legacy mounts . . . 

My ears hurt

already -- the voice was bad enough; the strained copy will be so much more grating. 

Why can't he just pack up

his pretzels and go home already? (Oh, the fud? Room service.) 

Play-for-No-Pay

will print any old horse shit. Do as he says, not as he weighs. 

Squirrel

you say? 

And to think

we could have wound up with the Budweiser sugar baby.

(Thanks to Anima Mundi.)