Grill Cakes, Etc:Fruit Cakes or Fruitfully French, French Toast or Grillcake Sandwich, Stack o' Three, Stack o' Three and Meat, Stack o' Two, Eggs and Meat

What's Wrong With Yesterday's Menu: The Mexican pan scrambler. The ground beef seems to have been sanitized by soaking it in bleach.

Please forgive the clunky apperance of my page. I worked all evening on the images (cowboys all - an appropriate counterpart to Nixon?) and figured out too late that stealing bits of code and pasting it into my page practically willy-nilly does not work. I should quit my job in the film industry and run U.S. missile tests in the Marshall Islands. That way I could fail, fail, fail, fail, succeed, fail, fail, fail and call it a career. In the Marshall Islands. Never mind.

This entry will perplex future readers, since within days I'll have fixed the site - stolen the right code? - and the "clunky appearance" will have mutated into something unbearably slick. Some cascading style sheet magic, with a gigantic animated GIF of a magic eightball that reveals your future when you run your mouse pointer over it.

I'm thinking that if internet bandwidth were, um, given over to the public and were absolutely free, then the whole damn web would look like a pornographic Homestar Runner. You know - no banner ads, no appeals for donations, no product-soaked pages like The Onion or Salon. Just lots of funny stuff and sex. People would still sell stuff over the internet (especially the sex); but no one would have to partner up or synergize with some company out there looking to annoy us with Flash ads that obscure the content.

Hey - and no adware, either! Imagine if you went to a store one day and a salesman followed you home and broke into your house. And hid under your table and surreptitiously wrote down everything you ate for breakfast. And pawed through the Ikea catalogue to see what you'd dogeared. And went to your medicine cabinet, took a whole goddamn handful of your Xanax, put on your cowboy hat and got into your bath. So when you got home there was a stoned stranger in your bath with your really nice suede cowboy hat on and a detailed file on your lifestyle preferences. You'd be peeved. And if you were smart, you'd delete the guy from your apartment, but make a zipped backup of him (just in case). Then you'd put a wall of fire around your place for extra security (ouch!). And when you're done, you'd tidy up anything that may have gotten fragmented to make sure that your apartment's operating at maximum efficiency. And if you've got apartment XP, backup your registry with ERUNT. Because one day the registry may become corrupted and you'll find yourself locked out of your own place. Which would suck, since that's where you keep all your porn.

parode - exode