OF COURSE GUY "I'm only on a cooking show because I'm fat and will do anything" FIERI HAWKS SOMETHING CALLED THE "DRAGON DAGGER."
Dragon dagger. Dragon. Dagger. It's like one of those words that, the more you say it, the less it makes sense, until eventually you get to the point where it's just gobbledygook - only in this case you only have to say it once.
By the way, this knife is for tomatoes.
I know tomatoes are the fiercest of the secret fruits that are often confused for vegetables, but seriously. You don't need to intimidate them by painting your knife to look like a motorcycle. Tomatoes are not that hard to cut; nor are they easily fooled.
Dragon Dagger, brought to you by the guy who thinks "Knuckle Sandwich" is an appropriate name for a brand. That same guy also thinks that knives should resemble your fanciest Matchbox racecar. Let's all take a second to hate that guy.
Thursday, April 15, 2010
Sunday, April 11, 2010
I don't understand people
Sometimes, I question people's judgment.
And by "people" I don't just mean those that I know personally (though, when Gerard thinks eating a hotdog at 10:00 at night after having had a stomachache all day, I do question him because, really, hotdog = opposite of TUMS); I mean "all people, everywhere - particularly strangers and groups of strangers who don't really care what I think."
Just the other day, I spent many minutes of my precious, personal zone-out time on the subway wondering why anyone would choose to carry a messenger bag with the naked silhouette of a woman prominently displayed on its front. More specifically, I wondered why a person who was not 14 years old (the age where your desire to be in proximity to a naked woman and the likelihood of that actually happening are totally opposite) would even own such a thing, and why that person would carry it IN PUBLIC - in front of the children and the nuns and the actual ladies who are sometimes naked but probably don't look like that.
Hint, dude: having a naked lady on your bag does not act as some sort of homing signal for other naked ladies. It's not like a peer pressure thing, wherein I see your naked bag lady and think, "Man, that lady looks comfortable and awesome, perhaps I should get naked, too." No. No.
Poor misguided man. You are not physically repulsive (though, even without the naked lady bag, you do have questionable facial hair). Surely you can find an actual, flesh-and-blood, sometimes-naked lady to keep you company. You can't carry her naked through the streets, as you do with your current ladyfriend, but I think everyone - you, me...and no one else really matters here - will be much happier if you leave your ridiculous carryall choices at home.
And by "people" I don't just mean those that I know personally (though, when Gerard thinks eating a hotdog at 10:00 at night after having had a stomachache all day, I do question him because, really, hotdog = opposite of TUMS); I mean "all people, everywhere - particularly strangers and groups of strangers who don't really care what I think."
Just the other day, I spent many minutes of my precious, personal zone-out time on the subway wondering why anyone would choose to carry a messenger bag with the naked silhouette of a woman prominently displayed on its front. More specifically, I wondered why a person who was not 14 years old (the age where your desire to be in proximity to a naked woman and the likelihood of that actually happening are totally opposite) would even own such a thing, and why that person would carry it IN PUBLIC - in front of the children and the nuns and the actual ladies who are sometimes naked but probably don't look like that.
Hint, dude: having a naked lady on your bag does not act as some sort of homing signal for other naked ladies. It's not like a peer pressure thing, wherein I see your naked bag lady and think, "Man, that lady looks comfortable and awesome, perhaps I should get naked, too." No. No.
Poor misguided man. You are not physically repulsive (though, even without the naked lady bag, you do have questionable facial hair). Surely you can find an actual, flesh-and-blood, sometimes-naked lady to keep you company. You can't carry her naked through the streets, as you do with your current ladyfriend, but I think everyone - you, me...and no one else really matters here - will be much happier if you leave your ridiculous carryall choices at home.
Labels:
BAD DECISIONS,
commuting,
hotdogs,
ladypeple,
NYC,
sexxxxiness
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