These burgers are offered by The Vortex Bar & Grill in Atlanta:
I should try them when I go to Atlanta in July. That way, I won’t have to buy the return ticket to fly back to Roanoke.
I wish more businesses shared The Vortex’s policies:
The Vortex Bar & Grill is not politically correct. If you are easily offended, there is a good possibility that you will be offended here. We offer our customers delicious grilled animal products, a great selection of booze, and the option to smoke cigarettes. Consider yourself warned.
At The Vortex Bar & Grill the customer is NOT always right. We reserve the right to refuse service to anyone, especially if we think that you’re a great big jerk. We strive to keep The Vortex an official “Idiot-Free Zone” at all times, so if you’re acting like an idiot, we’ll be sure to let you know, right before we throw your stupid ass out.
(Thanks, Eric (resident DBA at LegalEdge), for this restaurant tip)
From the collective superintelligence of the Internet masses came the lolcat phenomenon, a sign to future anthropologists of the advancement of our species.
Lolcat specimen, circa 2007.
The popularity of lolcats has led to many other similar phenomena, such as the lolrus, lolhamster, loldog, lolcode, even lolthulhu.
And now, even our local grocery store is getting in on the game and expanding the loltaxonomy:
I’M ON UR BREAD… MAKING IT DELISHUS
And did you see the cashier name?
Clearly, the LOL phenomenon is a sign that the robot invasion is coming soon.
I have nothing to blog about. Therefore, I must show you this:
That is all.
A few weeks ago, I brought Iris to her preschool, and we were alarmed to see that a fire crew was there. It turned out they were just putting out a small fire in the nearby woods. Someone must have dropped a cigarette there or something. I walked Iris into the school, and we talked about the fire for a while. I mentioned to her that I thought it was caused by a cigarette thrown from somebody’s car. But Iris had another theory. She said: “I think a bad birdy did it.”
She may be right.
(illustration unceremoniously lifted from Dave Shelton’s site).
An unrelated Iris story:
Iris has a pair of pants that have little embossed hearts attached to the botom of the legs. After several washings, the hearts started the crack a bit. So, one day, she takes a look at the pants, and says to us, “my heart is broken!”
Story from Galen yesterday in IRC:
i watched a show about two brits who lived with a tribe in new papua
they collect dog’s teeth to buy wives
and pigs are highly prized, like as much as people
anyway, one of the brits asks how many pigs it would cost to buy a wife and the dude goes:
“your question makes no sense at all”
“you can’t buy a woman with pigs, you buy women with dogs’ teeth”
I’ve had nothing interesting to post recently. The best I can offer at the moment is this strange statute I found in the LAW table of the Kentucky state legal case management system we’ve been working on:
ACQUIRING CONTROL OVER ANIMAL FACILITY W/O CONSENT
Interestingly, it is only a misdemeanor. And I’m not sure what the advantage is to gaining control of an animal facility. It doesn’t have nearly the same appeal as train robbing. Stealing a train FULL of animals, on the other hand… maybe THAT’S a felony.
Another interesting related statute:
REFUSAL TO LEAVE ANIMAL FACILITY
“Seriously; get OUT already! NO; FOR THE LAST TIME — YOU CAN’T HAVE A PUPPY!!!”
Poking around in our application at the Kentucky public defenders office, I came across a test case with the following misdemeanor charge:
It cracked me up. My dormant brain took a while to remember that “slugs” refers to counterfeit coins rather than our little slimy salt-phobic friends. But maybe in Kentucky it truly is a misdemeanor to live out the childhood experience of torturing a slug with salt. Things are different in Kentucky.
There was a strong nature-oriented theme this morning. On the way back from dropping Iris off at school, I stopped at Greenbrier Nurseries to pick up a few houseplants, because we need to bring a plant to the school for Iris to take care of to help teach her about responsibility. After snagging the plants, I drove home and saw a box turtle in the middle of the main road of our neighborhood.
Kathryn and I have a habit of stopping whenever we see a turtle in the road while driving. I guess we just can’t bear the thought of flattened turtle meat in the road. And I guess we’re always scouting for easy karma points. So, I pull over and walk over to pick up the turtle, which was headed towards the steep upward embankment on the side of the road. I couldn’t put it on that side, since it would probably just turn around and get back on the road to wait again for other good karma-seekers to snatch it from the jaws of vehicular doom. So I walked it to the other side of the road to place it in the tall grass. The turtle hissed at me as I transported it, as if to say, “You bastard! I spent all morning trying to get to the OTHER side! Who do you think you are???”
Then, when I got home, I saw the dead mouse that Kathryn warned me about on the phone as I was returning home.
Apparantly one of the cats decided to take a drink after killing the mouse, regarding the liquid refreshment as a higher priority to leaving the dead rodent in its mouth. Or the cat, in its sadistic nature, decided to see for its amusement how well a dead or dying rodent can float. Or it was the much less likely scenario of the mouse deciding to do itself in by leaping voluntarily to its watery demise. Thinking along these lines has already convinced me that I need to get out more.