TWENTY DAYS AND COUNTING!

UPDATE: Jen Rock, Doritos Connoisseur, says the Doritos shell is anti-climactic, and I believe her.
Until Taco Bell starts serving DORITOS LOCOS TACOS (That's Crazy Doritos Tacos for you English speakers). Crazy Doritos Tacos are TACOS in a DORITO shell. DORITO is so fun to say. And fun to eat. Especially when wrapped around taco fillings. Now I want to know what is the "taco" - is it the shell or the filling or the whole shebang? Let's find out. In the meantime, look at this:

According to Google, a taco IS a Doritos Locos Taco. See? It's the first thing that comes up in a simple search:

Also, at some point in the next 20 days, you might want to find out How To Prevent Salmonella.

A Day In The Life

The Restaurant Named After What Liz and I Look Like With Sunburns

Every year for Christmas, my mom and dad give me a gift certificate to Red Lobster. I don't know why. I appreciate it, but I don't understand it. Maybe they think it will remind me of family vacations, cause we were the family that went to the beach, passed the local seafood shack, and went straight to Red Lobster. Anyway, I get $25 annually to spend on whatever my heart desires at Red Lobster, when all my heart desires is this:

Please note the grease stains in the biscuit basket.
So Liz should really be blogging this because she LOVES RED LOBSTER, but we went on an Eat Me excursion last Sunday with Travis and Cody, Knoxville's Cutest Couple, and I cashed that shit in. Travis enjoyed the ULTIMATE FEAST of like everything on the menu on one plate and Liz ate crab legs like they were Jude Law's penis. I don't know what Cody ate because I wasn't paying attention, but I do remember that he does not like shrimp and did not want any of the shrimp that Travis was offering him, including maybe the one in Travis's pants cause he probably got too full on cheddar biscuits and beer and didn't want to have sex that night.
I should have ordered $25 of the "Sunset Passion Colada" (WHICH WAS DELICIOUS) and just eaten 10 baskets of Cheddar Bay Biscuits (is Cheddar Bay in Wisconsin, and if so, do the Great Lakes contain lobster?), but instead I had the Four Course Seafood Feast, which is hard to say for some reason, and I'm from Cookeville, Tennessee, so my four courses were all fried and/or came with Ranch dressing. (Side note: longest run-on sentence ever). Except the brownie, which the waitress aptly instructed me to "microwave for 40 seconds" and I can confirm that it was so good at 2 in the morning drizzled with chocolate sauce from a plastic ramekin.
Traditionally circular with a fluted exterior, ramekins can also be found in novelty shapes, such as flowers, hearts or stars. I plagiarized (LIZ: SPELLING BEE WORD) that from Wikipedia. There's a handy link in case you've never heard of Wikipedia.
I don't even know what I'm talking about anymore.

BACON MILKSHAKES AREN'T EVEN A JOKE

So the zero people who read my post about Bacon-Flavored Effervescent Tabs might remember that my first hypothetical use for this product was Bacon Milkshakes. That was the most ridiculous idea I could dream up, just last week.
Well, lo and behold, Jack in the Box is now serving Bacon Milkshakes. I simply cannot abide by this. It's getting out of hand and making me kind of hate bacon. I want to hide my bacon at the grocery store between 10 boxes of Totino's Pizzas and distract the checkout boy while he's ringing up my bacon so he doesn't realize I'm buying bacon. I want to eat bacon in a tent in my kitchen so that even my dogs don't know I'm eating bacon. I want to brush my teeth between bites of bacon so I can forget that I'm actually eating bacon. I think I hate bacon now. It's a stupid word too. BACON. Fuck off.

See? UGH.

Doritos Fingers

This article should probably be required reading for Eat Me fans (I guess that means me, and sometimes Liz). It's all about how to get the nasty food you eat out of the carpet cause you're so nasty you just rub cheese dust on the couch and pour beer all over everything. But my favorite thing about it is the accompanying photo, which I like to call "Still Life with Doritos Fingers." I want a T-shirt.

"Regardless of What Happens to the Pigs..."

Hormel treats pregnant pigs like shit so we can enjoy a big tub of Spam. . Who knew?! The best part of this story is the understatement of the century: "Regardless of what happens to the pigs, the processing of Spam could use some serious improvement." Uh, I don't think so, dude. Leave that shit alone.
If you're gonna eat Spam, and that's a long shot, I know, you don't even want to think about what it is, how it was made, or where it came from. You just wanna slice it up, fry it, and put it on some white bread. Pretty sure I'm right about that one. That was lunch at my Grandma's house, and it was fine with me.
For the Spam connoisseurs out there, you might wanna try these delicious flavors (I'm sure they're all PORKTASTIC!)

SPAM SPREAD
SPAM LITE!
SPAM. WITH CHEESE.
Spam.com (which seems like a dangerous website to visit, but whatever, get spammed) has a recipe exchange where you can learn how to make Spambalaya, Dutch Oven Spam Spuds (uhhh....), Spam Gravy, and "Fancy Spam Appetizer Sandwiches" a recipe title that contains the most oxymorons I've ever seen strung together.
It's almost Super Bowl Sunday, and I suggest you just take Spam. Everyone will love you. Everyone loves Spam. It's Spamtastic. Get Spammed. Have a Spammy Day. Spread that Spam. Get your Spam on. Your underwear.
It's early. This is the first thing I decided to do today. So, Spam Off.