Tag: food

The Dragon Next Door

639171

My oven is filthy.
It is covered with grime.
But I do not have anything to clean it.
So, I call the dragon who lives next door.
She sticks her head in the window and looks at the oven.
“Disgusting!” she growls.
She takes a deep breath and blows fire all over my kitchen, burning the countertops and toaster and my favorite oven mitts.
“I am so sorry,” she says. “I should have been more careful.”
I hop on her back and we fly to a restaurant, order burgers and shakes, and go hunting for elephants for her to eat.

Sold

639154

That’s a mighty fine looking baby you have there.
How much will you sell that baby for?
You don’t do drugs. You don’t drink. You seem healthy enough and so does the baby.
There’s no way you can afford that baby, no matter how healthy it is. All babies get sick, need diapers… all that stuff.
It’s not easy setting a price, and nobody likes an auction for a baby, even if for a healthy one.
The market rate is fifty dollars a pound, precooked weight, but this one looks like seventy-five dollars.
Try eighty, and leave the diaper on.

The Pie Man – For Soupy Sales

639161

I never got the humor in someone getting hit in the face with a pie, but the old man on television got hit constantly with pies and people loved him for it.
Every show he was on, you knew from the moment he appeared on camera, he wasn’t going to leave without pie in his face.
Even at his funeral, it was an open casket ceremony, and he was smacked in the face by half a dozen mourners.
Two or three pies get smacked against his headstone every night.
Me, I’m stuck washing them off.
Still nothing funny about it.

The Gumbo

639159

Cletus won’t tell me what’s in his special gumbo.
He’s scared of people learning his recipe, so not only does he buy his own groceries from the market to make it, he buys extra ingredients to throw anyone off that’s looking through the trash.
He won’t let anyone in the kitchen while he makes it.
He cleans the dishes to keep anyone from using forensic science on them.
The more blue ribbons he earns, the crazier he gets.
“Where did you hide the cameras?” he shrieks, his tinfoil hat askew on his head.
“In the vent,” I think, and smile.

Orangeness

639160

I woke up early on Sunday.
Jenny’s still asleep.
I should surprise her.
Jenny likes the pumpkin spice pudding. So I dumped the powder into a plastic container, added a cup of milk, and closed the lid.
After a minute of shaking, the orange goo was all over the kitchen.
Jenny had poked holes in the lid for her frog hunting. Can’t keep them in a sealed plastic container without air holes, you know.
She woke up, looked around the kitchen, and said if I wanted to surprise her, I should do a halfway decent job of cleaning the kitchen.

Dunk

639154

Ever since the Chicago Bears dumped a Gatorade jug over Mike Ditka’s head to celebrate their first championship since 1963, it’s been a tradition in football to upend your sports performance drink over your coach to celebrate a victory.
Every so often, a joker will fill the jug with ice so it’s a really cold shower for the winning coach.
It was a cold game in Green Bay that brought on a new twist: a trainer had provided an extra jug of hot chicken soup to warm players during the bone-chilling subzero chill.
The coach was not screaming in joy.

Poetry and Coffee

639167

She asks me which I would rather have: good poetry and bad coffee, or bad poetry and good coffee.
“Why not good poetry and good coffee?” I ask. “Can’t you do both?”
It turns out, not only is she the waitress but she’s also a poet. “I don’t have time for both,” she says. “I can either concentrate on the coffee or write really good poetry.”
“Coffee,” I say.
“But this coffee will last only an hour or so,” she says. “My poetry will last for generations, long after I’m dead.”
I shrug. “I guess they won’t tip you either.”

Green Beans

639161

Momma always said you ain’t lonely when you got green beans.
So, I got these here green beans. I hugged on them, and they snapped all so happy.
They now my friends.
Course, I also hungry, so maybe I put some here butter and salt on em.
They sure do mighty delicious. I could just eat one and…
Oh, one more… okay?
Wait… I’ll be right back…
Oh no. I done ate them all. My friends.
I got me an idea… I’ll just go to the bathroom and wait.
When I see them again, I’m gonna hug them so tight!

Billybob Steak

639164

It was the biggest steak Paul had seen in his life.
“Eat all of the Billybob Big Steak, and you get it for free,” said the waiter.
“Really?”
“Really.”
So, Paul picked up his fork and knife and went to work.
He didn’t think he could do it, but after an hour there was one bite of steak left.
He put it on his fork, stuck it in his mouth, and swallowed.
“I win!” he said, and the piece of steak caught in his throat.
As hard as the waiter tried, Paul still choked to death.
Billybob catered the funeral.

The Noodle Mystery

639168

When I get a lunch hour, I make the best of that hour.
Mama Chang’s Noodle House.
There was something odd about the bowl of noodles I was having for lunch.
I’ve heard rumors that the chicken is really stray cat.
It still tastes good. Cheap, too.
This time, I had ordered pork and vegetables, but instead I had received Walt Whitman.
I tried to fish out the noodles around him, but Walt found this insulting.
“I find no sweeter fat than sticks to my own bones,” said Walt.
So, I reached for him with my chopsticks and ate him.