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a character like Tucker Carlson being an heir to a TV dinner fortune is so painfully on the nose that it reads like a footnote in a David Foster Wallace novel.
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I’m Libby The Kid! That’s Billy The Kid spelled sideways, sort of.
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“I also recall being quite disgusted and upset when the peas and carrot would leap the foil barrier, contaminating the cobbler.”
Eat your pudding first, kid.
Plus, “Contaminated Cobblers” is my new Punk Barbershop Quartet band.
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2020 continues to fucking fuck fuck fuck… Turkey farmers worried that they have too many big birds this year.
I wonder what food abominations this year’s glut will give us?
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Turkey curry?
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That was as already news here in Canada, where we had Thanksgiving two weeks ago.
As in, there was a news story, “give thought to the poor turkey farmers”.
Maybe there’ll be an abundance of precooked turkey slices.
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Do you think we’re better today in this regard? Folks are still making fortunes on the backs of those who cannot afford to be rich.
Some travesties have gotten better, if nothing else because we can’t sustain them without a giant generational glut, but I’m not feeling like we’ve gotten that much more sane or generous.
Not that I think we’re “better” but the cost of things has caught up to us…the world is not considered to be without limits.
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