What the hell is going on here?
-Chester the Cheeta goes to the prom?
-It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown...and he brought a date?
-Willy Wonka let the Oompa Loompas have a night off from the chocolate factory, so that they'd quit humping each other?
Oh, I know...these guys couldn't afford a fake spray-on tan, so they smeared themselves with the grease from the top of an opened can of Wolf Brand Chili. Or maybe, a mad scientist in a secret laboratory brought to life a giant bloody stool and dressed it in a tacky silk suit. An alternative theory; they have all been on a fad diet where they consume nothing but Chef-Boy-R-Dee Ravioli, Kraft American singles, Cheetos, Circus Peanuts, and Tang for months.
Then, as if it weren't bad enough ...they have the nerve to cluelessly pose and be photographed with those smug self-satisfied facial expressions that say; "the world bores me cuz I'm cool". A fitting punishment would be drowning in a vat of chlorine bleach. Are they under the mistaken impression that miniature crisco-mohawks are stylish? In the lower picture it looks like the hair that you see in post-mortem tintype photographs of deceased Old West gunfighters which were taken prior to burial at boot hill. Have the candied-yam twins ever considered just putting down the video games for a couple of hours and going outside in the sun?
What about these girls? How can they sit in the laps of a couple of walking toilet-bowl skidmarks and not be repulsed by the stench? What were their parents thinking when they opened the front door to meet their sweet young daughter's date for the evening and found Mr. Hanky standing there? Evidently, Olsen Twin imitator #2 (in the upper foto) has developed a melanoma below the corner of her left eye from standing too close to these clownish faux burn patients. What is most astounding is that these girls are not ashamed to be seen in public with them...and they are not even the least bit concerned about getting feces stains rubbed-off onto their clothes.
It's understandable that youngish girls' taste in males should tend more towards the juvenile. In not too many years they can look forward to being sexually disappointed by a somehwhat older and experienced man whose skintone does not make him resemble a cartoon character or the winner of a pumpkin pie eating contest.
Anyway, I think that I'll never touch another sweet potato, again. EVER!
Hey, for years I've been saying that KFC's food is great; they just need to present a more refined aristocratic image. My sources at the company have sent me these pics from a proposed ad campaign, which combines the idea of the classic family outdoor picnic with the tasteful sophistication of having Dr. Hannibal Lecter as their pitchman. Who could be a more appropriate spokesman about the simple pleasures of dining al fresco on pieces of dismembered carcass than a reknowned and respected phychiatrist, philosopher, afficionado of fine music, wine expert, world traveler, bon vivant, and culinary artist? This is a man who once disemboweled a chef at Ma Maison, simply because he had used margarine instead of butter while preparing Veal Milanese, so we know that the Doctor is serious about fine dining.
I must say...I am very encouraged by this. Can't wait to get down to KFC as soon as it opens to purchase a hideous grease-laden bucket of sophistication and mayhem.
Every once in a while, the animal rights nut-tards come up with a good one.
My evil nemesis, Poultricide, posted this link in a comment on this blog:
http://signgenerator.kfccruelty.com/index.asp?SignSubmission=1E7B0BCD-071F-4778-9C6D-3C9F65A2232E
Check it out! You can make your own KFC sign, like I just did. So, have at it. You've all got plenty of time to waste.
The creators of the site are obviously attempting to make some kind of political statement about animal cruelty, but the features of the site can be coopted to make sick sophomoric observations.
Some people become uncomfortable when they are reminded that what they are having for dinner was once running around squeaking, oinking, or mooing. It's those types and the animal-lover nuts who need to be reminded that no matter how advanced and civilized we become, we are still basically predatory hunter-gatherers. We still consume the mangled remains of deceased creatures just like our primitive ancestors did. The only real difference is that we pay other people to grab the animal, kill it, dismember the corpse, then wrap-up the mutilated pieces in nice clean cellpohane and styrofoam packaging. Often, we even pay a lot more to have someone else cook it. Another disturbing thought for you vegans; when you eat fruits and vegetables, you are actually consuming some plant's sex organs. We really don't know, but plants might even scream in pain when they are being sexually mutilated by fruitpickers, they just scream at a frequency that we can't hear. Think about it.
I don't have anything against KFC. They are one of the few fast-food joints that I even like. (besides Subway, or Popeye's). I can remember the first time that I ate there as a little kid and I really liked it. The guy that came up with the original recipe was a damned genius, even though chickens probably view him as their Adolf Eichman. Can you blame them? What would you think if you accidently wandered into a strange building and saw some manner of advanced beings feasting on disembodied charred human limbs coated in a crispy crust and served with two delicious side dishes? That's a rather Dahmer-esque image.
Anyway, I'll probably go to KFC this afternoon.
Poultricide hates Popeye's. He claims that it is all part of a secret Vatican plot, just because if you slightly alter their sign it says; "Pope Yes". I don't have anything against the Pope. As long as he makes really good spicy cajun chicken his religious practices don't concern me. Popeye's also has the best selection of side orders to choose from. You can actually have something besides french fries (which were ruined when the federal health Nazis made them change the type of oil that they cook them in). They're so bad, France should demand that the name be changed to something else.
