I have a thing for freakish fast-food menu items. Always have. Back when Facebook wasn’t the platform for Boomer rage, I frequently amused myself by putting up the latest in chain publicity stunt psychosis for group consensus. Looking back, KFC’s Famous Bowl, a glop of every conceivable menu item, from chicken to mashed potatoes to … Continue reading
L is for Love, baby. O is for Only you that I do. V is for loving Virtually all that you are and E is for loving almost Everything you do. R is for…*cough* Ahem…why hello there, my sugary Filthy Dreams sweethearts! What’s that? Oh, I’m just singing Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds’ maniacal … Continue reading
Do the chairs in your parlor seem empty and bare (who has a parlor)? Do you gaze at your doorstep and picture me there? What I’m really trying to ask, dearest Filthy Dreams turklets, is: are you lonesome tonight? What’s that, my little gizzard and gobblers? Oh, I know, I know. Thanksgiving is just not … Continue reading
Yes I am a cronut. I am a cronut waiting inside the counter to be picked up by my customer; or better I should say client… Continue reading