This is embarrassing. Like, seriously, People-magazine-naming-Nick-Nolte-sexiest-man-alive embarrassing. (I'm still not over that unfortunate rediscovery.) Nicolas Sarkozy and Carla Bruni came to town and they CHOSE to dine at Ben's Chili Bowl. Really?! And from what I understand, they did so 100 percent sober. REALLY?! I don't get it. Ben's isn't bad when your tastebuds have been soaked for several hours in Grey Goose and Miller Lite (mixed together, naturally), but when you're wide awake during the day with all your wits about you? REALLY?! I mean, REALLY?!?! Wouldn't a baguette and some fresh Brie have done you better?!?!?! This is seriously giving me a heater. AHHH!!!!
Hold on, though. I'm guessing this must have been some sort of cultural curiosity thing. Kind of like eating guinea pig in Peru or dog in China or delicious human meat in Philadelphia.
Any excuse to slap up an Always Sunny clip...
But honestly, hearing this debacle of the First French Couple opting to eat the greasy, watery slop called chili at Ben's opposed to, say, actual food (or even a can of Hormel) makes me want to kill myself by shoving a cucumber up my butt. Wait, what?
Yeah. Some dude rushed to the hospital after shoving a cuke up his poop-shoot is claiming he did it as an attempt to end his life, thus proving that even suicide can be hilarious.
But let's change the subject to something more appealing than foods that will mess up your colon, no matter which orifice you use, and talk about something just as disturbing, but far less disgusting (hopefully). Let's talk about me.
I'm currently in the Norfolk area interviewing new helper animals. So far, the lead contenders are a lemur named Geoff, a warthog named Emile and a newt named T-Bone (his government name is, ironically, Newt, however he was not amused so he's in the process of legally changing it). Anyway, I'm going to judge them on how fast each one can fetch me a refreshing sippy cup of apple juice while typing up this blog post, which I am currently dictating. Then tonight, I'm going to judge them on which one can rewrite the final season of LOST so it doesn't suck so hard. The helper animal results should be in about the same time as my latest round of tumor (that hopefully doesn't exist) blood test results, which is also why I'm down in Southern VA. Oops! I just made it disgusting! Sorry!
And speaking of disgusting, I have one more gem to share with you today: imgoingtohellforthisforsure.ytmnd.com
Can you believe what people do for fun on the Internet these days? Well, I never! Uh-oh. T-Bone just laughed so hard he bit off his lizard-like tongue and had to regenerate a new one. "Hey, while you're at it, T-Bone, can you regenerate more apple juice in this sippy cup?" *pause* "Fine. OK. Can you please regenerate more apple juice in this sippy cup?" *pause* Goddammit, T-Bone! You can take your smoke break later!" *sigh* "Emile are you typing this? What are you typing? EMILE! DON'T TYPE THIS PART! THIS IS NOT PART OF THE BLOG POST! DAMMIT! DON'T MAKE ME COME OVER THERE. NO, STAY OUT OF THIS, GEOFF! IT DOESN'T CONCERN YOU! OH GOD! IS THAT BEN'S CHILI BOWL I SMELL ON YOUR BREATH! GEOFF, I SAID STAY OUT OF THIS! T-BONE! WHERE'S MY JUICE! GODDAMMIT EMILE! STOP TYPING! OK, IT'S ON, HELPER ANIMALS. IT. IS. ONNNNNNNNN!!!!!!!kls@$jlk)(#*jwp0i@($%p2qpsaoif03-q05tpwgasa...............SEND HELPPP, SIGNED EMILE