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The same is true of the word cuisine. The difference between food and cuisine is sixty dollars. That’s it. They’re stealing from you. You want to know some real gourmet food? Toasted snail penises; candied filet of panda asshole: deep-dish duck dick. Now you’re talkin’ cuisine.
Hearty
This is a word only a bullshitter could love: hearty. Soups are hearty, breakfast is hearty. Folks, next time you see the word hearty, take a good look at the rest of the label. “Hmmra! Six hundred grams of saturated fat.” You know, hearty. As in heart attack.
The/words
It’s a good idea to be wary of any words ending in y, in particular such words as butter-y, lemon-y and chocolate-y. Any time marketers add a y to the name of a food, you can be sure they’re yanking your schwantz. Real chocolatey goodness. Translation? No fuckin’ chocolate!
And while we’re at it, zesty and tangy are not real words that normal people use in conversation. Has anyone ever turned to you in a restaurant and said, “This pork is really zesty. And it’s tangy, too”? My comment? “Hey, Zesty, I got something’ tangy for ya!”
Flavored
Folks, watch out for the word flavored. Lemon-flavored drink. Oh yeah? Lemme know if you spot any trace of a goddamn lemon in there.
There’s even a pet food that calls itself a chicken-flavored treat. Well, a dog doesn’t know what chicken tastes like. He might like it if you give him some, but he’s not go
Natural
The last one of these bullshit food words is natural. And these comments are directed at all you environmental jackoffs out there. The word natural is completely meaningless. Everything is natural. Nature includes everything. It’s not just trees and flowers and the northern spotted owl. It’s everything in the universe. Untreated raw sewage, polyester, toxic chemical waste, used bandages, monkey shit. It’s all perfectly natural. It’s just not real good food. But you know something? It is zesty. And it’s tangy, too. Bon appe’tit, consumers.
RETAIL BLUES
LET’S TAKE THE GLOVES OFF
When did they pass a law that says the people who make my sandwiches have to be wearing gloves? I’m not comfortable with this. I don’t want glove residue all over my food; it his not sanitary. Who knows where these gloves have been? Let’s get back to the practice of human hands making sandwiches for human beings.
And we have to stop this tipping-people-for-counter-service thing. No one should get a tip for standing erect, moving a few feet to one side and picking up a muffin. The sign on the pathetic little tip cup says TIPS WOULD BE APPRECIATED. Well, so would some fuckin’ decent service. Let’s be honest, folks, there’s not a great deal of IQ floating around behind these counters. Maybe in their homelands some of these people might pass for intelligent, but to me, if they live in this country and can’t speak English, their IQ plunges about three hundred points. I shouldn’t have to leave a tip in order to pay for someone’s English lessons.
DON’T BE A PHONEE
Store clerks! You should not be on the phone when you’re waiting on me. When I, the customer, walk up to the counter, the phone should be put down. And if it rings while you’re waiting on me, let it ring. After ten rings, pick it up, and, without even saying hello, say, “I’m currently waiting on an actual, paying customer who has money and has had the courtesy to come into the store to transact business. I will get to you when the store is empty. Stay on the line if you wish, but I may not get to you till sundown.” Then smile at me and say, “Where were we?” The in-store customer should always come first.
MOVIN’ ON UP
And where did this new rule come from that says the second person standing on line in a store has to hang back and leave about six feet of space between himself and the customer being waited on? You know, one person is already up at the counter and the next person is standing back five or six feet, leaving all this unused space. When did this shit start?
And I’m not talking about stores where there’s an obvious central feeder-lineone line that feeds a number of counter positions. I’m talking about an individual line that feeds a single counter, and these dopey people hang back like they’re afraid of offending someone. This has obviously grown out of some perverted, politically correct impulse. Move up, motherfucker! Take up the slack! You know what I do when I’m behind one of these timid jackoffs? I step right in front of him and take his place in line. If he doesn’t like it, I say, “You should have moved up, twat-face. Don’t you know space is at a premium? I gave you a full minute and you didn t move. Now I’m next!”
THE UNDECIDEDS
I also get very unhappy with people in supermarkets who stop their carts in the middle of the aisle and just stand there looking at the soup. They don’t know what they want, so they’re looking. Parked. Middle of the aisle. They’re trying to decide. Why would you go to the supermarket if you didn’t know what you wanted? You know how I shop? I enter the store with a list in my hand, and I move quickly through the aisles from item to item, and I’m in the parking lot before Hamlet has figured out if the cream of mushroom is a better bargain than the chicken with stars. I say, know what you want, get what you need, and get the fuck out of there. That’s how ya shop.
MESSAGE FROM A COCKROACH
“Hello there, I’m a cockroach. Listen, I’m go
FLY THE FRIENDLY SKIES
When I’m on a commercial flight, and I see a fly flying down the center of the airplane from back to front, I like to take him off to one side and ask him if he understands how fast he’s moving. They never really know. So the first thing I do is briefly explain Newton’s laws of motion, complete with a small diagram to make it a bit easier. But the only thing their little fly egos are interested in is how fast they’re moving. So I tell them that in order to calculate their velocity relative to the ground, all they have to do is add their own flying speed to the speed of the airplane. I show them how it works and they can’t believe it when they discover that they’re actually traveling over five hundred miles an hour. The first thing most of them mention is that a frog’s tongue wouldn’t stand a chance against that kind of speed.
PLEASE DON’T SAY THAT
Here is a small sampling of embarrassing societal cliches that I find tiresome and, in some cases, just plain ignorant.
IF IT SAVES JUST ONE LIFE
You often hear a new policy or procedure justified by the specious idea that “If it saves the life of just one (insert here ‘child’ or ‘American soldier’), it will be worth it.” Well, maybe not. Maybe a closer look would show that the cost in time, money or inconvenience would be much too high to justify merely saving one life. What’s wrong with looking at it like that? Governments and corporations make those calculations all the time.
EVERY CHILD IS SPECIAL
An empty and meaningless sentiment. What about every adult? Isn’t every adult special? And if not, then at what age does a person go from being special to being not-so-special? And if every adult is also special, then that means all people are special and the idea has no meaning. This embarrassing sentiment is usually advanced to further some position that is either political or fundraising in nature. It’s similar to “children are our future.” It’s completely meaningless and is probably being used in some self-serving way.