Looking for a–
…
Have you ever–
…
Need some–
–you know what, I’ve got nothing. I can’t even begin to pretend to know what’s going on with this particular alcoholic beverage.
Just…what?
Bene edite.
Monthly Archives: August 2015
The Flavor of Shutting Up
Need to quiet down, but feeling a little too classy for a steaming mug of STFU?
Why not just shut your La Trappe instead?
Ah, nothing quite like the flavor of everyone closing their damn mouths.
So how about it? Are you an Isid or a Trappist? Your call.
Bene edite.
The Flavor of Football
Good Taste Restaurant.
Come on in and eat some food.
You’ll like how it tastes.
Who needs to spend all of that effort coming up with a catchy, memorable name? Who has the time and mental capacity to remember some hip, catchy moniker that probably doesn’t even remotely suggest what’s being sold?
No, these folks know that when it comes to food, what you care about is taste. And when it comes to taste, you want good taste.
No funny business. No guessing games. Just taste. At a restaurant. That’s good.
And you know that such keen insight into the needs of their customers wouldn’t mean much if they didn’t know what was popular here in the States, so go ahead and stop on by to enjoy the Super Bowl.
Bene edite.
The Flavor of Oreos
Nabisco has been going crazy with their (often terrible) new Oreo flavors over the last few years, but the package that I picked up the other day seems to indicate that they’ve finally gone off the deep end: “Cookies & Creme” flavored Oreos.
Let that sink in for a minute.
When something is “cookies and creme” flavored, you know what that really means is Oreo-flavored-please-don’t-sue-us. So what does that make these?
Oreo-flavored Oreos.
Nabisco is straight-facedly selling Oreos whose special flavor is Oreos. They’re not even trying to hide it – for God’s sake, there’s a full-on Oreo in the background picture of what the flavor is supposed to represent.
Do you want to guess what these things taste like?
Did you guess Oreos? Because it’s Oreos. Oreo-flavored Oreos taste like Oreos.
Bang-up job, planet Earth.
Bene edite.
The Nightmare Concludes (For Now)
At last, at last, I can breathe again.
There was a secret open drain to nothing inside the wall behind the furnace, branching off from the sewer line coming down from the kitchen, venting up rotten gasses from the depths of hell right into the air return path.
No idea what could have been down in the furnace room once up on a time to make use of that drain. Not sure why it was just walled off instead of closed when the furnace was installed in front of it. Hard to say why it would have taken this long for the trap to dry up. But shame and frowns and shaken fists upon whoever decided that HIDING AN OPEN SEWER LINE INSIDE A WALL USED AS AN AIR INTAKE WAS A REMOTELY O.K. THING TO DO.
AAAAGGHHH.
Anyway, after ripping open the wall, capping off that pipe, and venting out the house once more, I can sleep in a room that is both cooler than 88° and does not smell of death, which, let me tell you, is pretty swell.
Bene vīvite.
Writin' Fish 