The buck stops here. "Indeed."The rate of surplus value divided by a thirty ought six continued to result in Lunchmeats. There will be, Fellow Citizens, some day, a National Museum of the American Lunchmeats, which will feature papier mache replicas of submarine and other nautical sandwiches. According to the bloated blue mimeograph that the young worshipper relied upon for restroom reading, one should pray to one's guardian angel to help free daddy's skid steer loader from the water table. The cool dew lubricated the deep grass, and that's when the attentional difficulties came on, Religion, Venison, Religion, Venison, although reverence toward one typically resulted in plenty of the other. The neighbor threatened to power up his scraper box. Those were dimestore, jokestore antlers, they had been stapled to the buck's head, if only it were a buck, if only there were carbohydrates, then the opportunity for a bipartisan BBQ may have fruitionated. The Cosmonaut endured his epigastric difficulties because he re-galled the epigastric difficulties of his Cossack forebears and the types of Caucasic Distress they had overcome, and this exercise resulted in the type of Orbital Weightlessness never possible at Dairy Queen or during a snackchips felony. Lunchmeats is a reward system though in the wrong hands Lunchmeats can be a false summit. Consider the DSM-IV Manual of psychiatric diagnoses: no. 823.09 -- Lunchmeats Disorder, Moderate. Symptoms include speaking to Lunchmeats in frank, rational tones, demanding to know what became of Youth. "Give me some answers," the sufferer can be heard to say, whilst harrying an English muffin. The hurricane remnants came through for half an hour. The worshipper's daddy and the neighbor stood there, hands on hips, lamenting how hurricane remnants whuddn't what they used to be. The neighbor powered up his scraper box. The game animal came out of the woods, then -- shoot, it could've been the Duchesser Windsor, but it was Fourth and 2, and Coach was sending out the taxi squad, or so said the Television Set, Religion, Venison, Religion, Venison.
Quoth Jaques, when Duke Senior wanted to hunt for venison:
ReplyDelete"Ay, Sweep on, you fat and greasy citizens, 'Tis just the fashion; wherefore do you look Upon that poor and broken bankrupt there?"
Thus, most invectively he pierceth through the body of the country, city, court, yea, and of this our life, swearing that we are mere usurpers, tyrants, and what's worse, to fright the animals and to kill them up in their assigned and native dwelling place.
Anon, th'ain't gonna be no lunchmeat left. He in there takin' uh sh*t.
i accidentallz bought horse meat the other day : luckily I did not eat it. I came home to smelling another strange meat turns out rabbit was being prepared, and then deer! what the hell, Stella and I have decided no more tierfleisch! things are changing...
ReplyDeletesorry for typo ßß on a German kezboard. )see!=
ReplyDeleteLUNCH is the NYSE ticker symbol for Lunchmeats. We must carefully monitor its progress in the face of crisis. How does the Venison respond to crisis? What will be the impact on Lunchmeats if our Venison are spooked? Will the spook be edible in the Lunchmeats, I ask you, sausages, I ask you, dusie, I ask Ye who have yet to comment. ----BA
ReplyDeleteThe Purveyor of Lunchmeat often responds with: Packaging. A clear and present danger.
ReplyDeleteVenison! Plague! Death! Confusion!
ReplyDeleteThat was going to be the eleventh plague -- Venison. But the tenth plague did the trick. --- BA
ReplyDeleteWouldst that Lunchmeats were obscured by the packaging may lead to Less or More consumption of Lunchmeats. O, somewhere is a Ledger of Lunchmeats -- and it concludes with the phrase: "Total Lunchmeats." Indeed. -----BA
ReplyDeleteI got Lunchmeat... on my shoulder... makes me happy...
ReplyDeleteTotal Lunchmeats = Venison (Mass) Squared. -----BA
ReplyDeleteIt's all about presentation.
ReplyDeleteBig Venison.
ReplyDeleteSomewhere in America is a man named such. He presents as Big Venison. So he must have presentation.
DG
There oughtta be a VOTUS!
ReplyDeleteVenison Of The United States -- that is GENIUS, my friend. GENIUS. -----DG
ReplyDeleteharry me that muffin, uncle abe, and for god's sake cover you mouth when you cough up that reagan!
ReplyDeleteTo Harry is to Menace, to become Hirsute, and to impersonate Harold, as it were. Or are you saying otherwise? ----BA
ReplyDeleteSomeday soon, you're going to long for the time was Lunchmeat was Lunchmeat. Very soon now, Lunchmeat will just be Packaging.
ReplyDeleteLunchmeats, you mean.
ReplyDeleteI was once presented with a rubbery venison stew in Round Lake, Fla. It could've used some "packaging" as in some "convincing" to eat it but I ate it anyway.
So, I mean, I guess one could say that eventually Lunchmeats will become packaging of packaging, in that one must be convinced to eat it but eat what?
Lunchmeats, in the end, becomes a dearth, a boxful of sand, a shell game, a busted futures racket, a salt lick in the desert, a kick in the ribs.
------BA
then what about Spam dear Mark? & others, et al... spam has long maintained high levels of packaging. there is a bar in Alaska called, the fly by night and there SPAM is a delicacy, served by the shot amongst other high-end varied dishes. let us follow this somber post with the SPAM recipes of yore, my dear mom used to always have it on hand and when craving something special, she would oft fry it up and laver it with mustard american sliced cheese (kind in the plastic casing) with fried white bread, hmmmmmmmmmmmmm!
ReplyDeleteSpam is haute cuisine, too, in Hawai'i, where it has apparently retained a place in the hearts of some downhome chefs, since it was part of the G.I. diet during WWII, hence part of local culture.
ReplyDeleteSpammity Spam, Spammity Spam.
And now for Sport.
----------------BA
I threw the spam in a ditch, and thought hard for us all.
ReplyDeleteThat was your only swerving, my friend, before you rolled that spam, and its unborn spamlet, into the river. ------------BA
ReplyDeleteThere was also the Miracle in Michigan, man: the day that giant Lunchmeat fell down from the sky.
ReplyDeleteIt was raining brats & dogs, that day.
And then, you came home to that girlfriend who said, "You don't respect my Lunchmeat." And then, your hands were really tied --
Kordell Stewart called that famous play, Lunchmeats, on three, then when out and tossed the Ol' Lunchmeats about 75 yards in the air, where Westbrook hauled it in after a tip.
ReplyDeleteCoincidentally, I was struck by Lunchmeats in the stands and took it home and fed the dog with half of it and me with the other half.
-------------------BA
Thanks for saving me the scraps.
ReplyDeleteSure, you feed Rat Genius a pork chop. What the hell do I get? After all these years of service--
Sponge Pudding, RITA, is not Lunchmeats. It should be mailed to one's actual address, not anywhere you please. The USPS however makes allowances for Lunchmeats, Festive Fruitcakes, and Spongepuddings.
ReplyDelete--------------------BA
SPAM+Hawaii= Television knowledge.
ReplyDeleteYou so elitist yo eggs is white and yo couch aint comfy
Me so corny!
ReplyDeleteMe so corny!
I think you need a reservation to impeach my knowledge. Or will you be arriving without reservations, yuk yuk yuk.
-----BA
Never overstay your welcome, or you'll never be welcome to stay over. Love many, trust few, and always paddle your own canoe--
ReplyDelete--courtesy of Laughter in Lunchmeat from Reader's Digest(ion)
I have posted and deleted all kinds of crazy Lunchmeats jokes for this, the 30th comment.
ReplyDelete(".....General Tso's Lunchmeats.....")
And et cetera.
--------BA
$700 billion bailout=even more decline in the quality of Lunchmeats.
ReplyDeleteIt's part of the new Guns 'n' Lunchmeats program / policy -- buying up unprofitable Lunchmeats from General Tso Real Estate Holdings, LLC. Oy. This is desperation and it is scary. ----BA
ReplyDeleteQuick! Grab the Lunchmeats!
ReplyDeleteOh Dear Lunchmeats!
ReplyDelete--------BA