Showing posts with label we think we're gonna hurl. Show all posts
Showing posts with label we think we're gonna hurl. Show all posts

Friday, October 15, 2010

An Epidemic of Anus

Once was funny. Twice made us feel sick. A third time--even with a slightly different recipe--is an epidemic of ick. We're talking about restaurants that misspell the word "Angus."

Behold the McDonald's sign we swiped from our uncle's Facebook feed:


Here is a previous post on the topic. We recall writing a third one using a photograph our brother sent but were unable to dig the link out of our archives.

Ignoring the fact that two out of three of these sightings came from our own relatives, let us just say that it is wildly disturbing that the people with their hands on our meat supply don't know the difference between "anus" and "Angus."

There is a big difference. Gargantuan. Galactic. Ginormous. Gee, how we wish they'd learn it.

Monday, April 13, 2009

Oh, No Thank You. Really.

Today's blog post is brought to you by the letter "g." Who knew how important it was to one's appetite?

Thanks to Martha V. for sending it.