Before we go into losers and art, here is a heartfelt thank you to all veterans for allowing those of us who haven’t served to have the wonderful country we do.
That’s the long and the short of it. Thank you.
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The man says he’s addicted to sausages.
Drug addicts crave their fix, and it’s the same for me – except my drug is a banger. – Sausage wanker David Harding
Well, what the hell man isn’t?
But I’ll tell you this: We don’t run about whining about it and wasting money on psychotherapy and hypnosis in order to stop.
We just die ten years earlier than our spouses and count it a fair bargain.
Real men look down upon sad sacks like this and wonder if stem cells will allow them to someday grow this guy a spine in a petri dish.
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I’m glad that people have liked the Coelacanth Eco-dollars Coffee Mug. It makes me glad when someone drinks coffee with an endangered critter. There are more styles (denominations) of coffee cups to be had, so feel free to see if there’s something you like or suggest a different one.
More later…
No, no, no….men die first because they want to.
That wanker is beyond help if he thinks that addiction is a bad thing that must be cured.
Hmm….let’s see. I’m ‘addicted’ to Italian dry salami, pepperoni, sausages of all kinds, garlic pasta, pickled peppers, and some other foods.
Not to the extent necessarily as the guy in the article you linked to above, Lemur, but still, I can’t envision life without those foods.
I have no intention of breaking any of those so-called addictions.
And God help the poor dumb bastard who tries to keep me from enjoying them.
I’m absolutely addicted to all manner of disgusting Italian sausages, hams and salamis and as for those disgusting Germans, well, their wursts are the worst.
*smack*
Sorry.
Every year I go camping near Lake Placid, NY. On the way up we stop at Roma’s in Colonie, NY for all manner of Italian goodness and then go to Rolf’s Pork Store in Albany. It’s a German place full of home-made goodness. Even their hot dogs are tasty and they have Asbach-filled chocolates. Mmmm, mmmm.
There’s nothing quite like eating ash-covered weiss wurst with ash-covered german potato salad followed by ash-covered canoli (we get filling, shells and a pastry bag so they’re fresh) and ash-covered espresso.
My germanic blood would smack you if it really thought you didn’t like wursts.
You may be addicted but you aren’t whinging about how you can’t quit and you’ve done hypnosis and manicures and seances to channel a spine and all that shit. You say “Yep. I got a problem. You got a problem with that? Pass the mustard.”
That’s what real men do.
Ash is just carbon and it absorbs poisons from your system. Good for you.
Mmmmmm. Bratwurst, cooking on the griddle for hours… On fresh brochen rolls… Spicy mustard…. Freshly fried potatoes (done by the single serving, not a big batch), with spicy dipping mayonnaise…
Very frequently my dinner of choice when stationed at Bitburg AB, GE.
Sigh…
Yes, I love my sausages.