snub-nosed swamp dweller
1. Hide under the pile of coats.
2. Age is irrelevant in terms of eligibility for the kid's table.
3. Tradition trumps discretion.
4. There's no dignified way to say goodbye to someone you forgot to greet. Have another cookie and cut your losses.
5. Effects of tryptophan are a myth. It doesn't actually mak
Dearest Whole Foods,
I first want to genuinely thank you for being an abundant resource of healthy and quality foods for me and my partner. We live in quite a wonderful neighborhood close by but aren’t within a convenient proximity to any WF locations otherwise, and we’re truly lucky to have you around! We usually make the trek out to some of the larger stores on our bigger weekend stock-ups, but when we find ourselves mid-week needing those couple of things we’ve run low on, you’re our go-to! (So much so that you’ve earned the nickname ‘Close Foods’ in our home.)
Because of the strict Gluten Free dietary restrictions we have, we’ve found it easier to cook all of our meals from scratch, and the fresh produce and ingredients you’ve graced your shelves with have made this immensely easier for us to accomplish.
But hey - we’re also human.
Admittedly, on some of those looooooong weekdays, we’d rather throw a pre-cooked meal in the microwave and watch Netflix until we feel guilty about it. The certified GF options are usually hard to come by with those quick-n-easy meals, but you’ve done a great job accommodating for this, especially with the inclusion of the Against the Grain Gourmet frozen pizzas.
But herein lies my request:
The Classic Flatbread Pizza? A classic, of course.
The Pepperoni Pizza?? A great gluten-free adaptation of a fan favorite.
But the Pesto Pizza??? I can only equate this with the simultaneous rush and comfort of skydiving into an bottomless pit of marshmallows. Or solving a Scooby Doo type mystery, but instead of Scooby Doo, it’s dozens of cute puppies.
Seriously- slice up two chicken sausages, throw them on top of that Pesto Pizza, and you’ve got one of the best damn things you’ve ever eaten in less than 20 minutes. However, as of yet, we haven’t seen this particular pizza in your store. Every week, we peer longingly through the frosted doors of the frozen food aisle hoping to catch a glimpse of the characteristic green box of the Against the Grain Gourmet Pesto Pizza to no avail.
‘Next time,’ we tell ourselves.
But week after week, rummaging through that frigid bottom shelf like raccoons (don’t worry, we reorganize it afterward), we leave without our beloved cheesy wheel of pesto-smothered, crusty goodness. I’m not sure how complex the logistics would be in stocking the Pesto Pizza in addition to the others you currently have, but we would be eternally grateful if it were possible. At the very least, we would stop sending you annoyingly long letters.
Your neighbor, The Clack
2. They're going to have to forfeit the policy.
3. Right. I see- I see.
4. A Kugler Report. Yes. K-U-G-L-E-R.
5. Administratively- oh, I'm on a train. Can you hear me?
6. Yes. To maximize the cash value.
7. Honestly, what else are you going to do?
1. Singer wins 'American Idol.’
2. Texas Mom Hit By Mexico Bullet.
3. An asteroid is definitely going to hit the Earth, expert warns.
4. Lohan late, co-star angry.
5. 6 Things Your Pee is Trying to Tell You.
6. What your cat is really up to.
7. Are you secretly racist?
8. Turn your yard into a water park - right now.
9. How the U.S. Should Handle North Korea's Threats.
10. 32 Super-Creative Chicken Casseroles.
Bagelsaurus, Cambridge, MA
May 7th, 2017
My Dear Wife,
I hope this letter finds you well. The sun is high at present, and although my tearful departure from home was some time ago, it seems that breakfast will most definitely have passed by the time I can return with your Eggspañola. I stand here amongst my brave brothers and sisters at an unfortunate standstill for what has seemed like hours after our arrival. The shop has already opened its doors, but our ranks already run dozens deep past the storefront. As you recall, I awoke shortly after sunrise to “beat the rush,” but it must already be near noon as the sun bears down on our infantry on this most unseasonably hot morning. There may well be some validity to this “global warming” we have been hearing so much about.
Spirits have been low among us, and as much as I myself am tempted, I take pity on the poor souls that find they need to resort to the Express Line, settling for the Grab Bag of pre-assorted bulk bagels. You of all people, Margaret, know that I believe that the freedom of choice is what sets this great nation apart from the rest, and I intend to fight for it no matter the cost. As I write this letter, I am reminded of your smile, gleaming brighter than the dawn of a Spring day glistening off of the dewy hillside out our kitchen window. One of my deepest regrets would be to disappoint you, but what pulls at my heartstrings most is to think of our children, little Anna and young William. It pains me to think they may be subjected to Pop-Tarts for the third time this week. It is my duty to provide our children prosperity and variety - things that my father could not afford for his own.
Please write soon. I can nearly see the sign for Bruegger’s around the bend, and already there have been hushed whispers of abandonment among us. I, however, remain strong and shall not settle for anything short of four dollars per bagel for the ones I hold dearest.
Your affectionate husband,
Joseph A. Bartlett
Once there was a chickadee named Russell. He was the biggest of all chickadees. Russell always picked on other chickadees. Except he was nice to one chickadee. Chris, Chris and Russell always used to walk down the street and do bad things like take all the chickadee’s money and beat them up. They also broke promises with other chickadees. One day Russell and Chris went down the street and saw the most beautiful girl chickadee they ever saw. Chris and Russell ran toward her. Then Russell started, heh, hem, hello whats your name? She said hi I’m Alexandra. Russell said, wanna be my boy friend then Chris cut in - no wanna be my boy friend forget about Russell. All right both of you shut-up. All of a sudden she said surender she took off a mask and zapped the bullys, they ran away and never came back and never botherd any one again. At the end of the day every one in chickadee town took off their masks and they were aliens! Then they all said, good job Alexandra said all the ailens, and one alien said this isn’t chickadee town this is alien world!
Written and recorded within the month of February for the 2017 RPM Challenge
Created for the 2016 100 Hour Film Race
A satirical critique of Kerouac’s ‘On the Road’ as part of a collaboration between myself and my good friend, Joe Kenneally. It follows one man’s ill-conceived journey as he attempts to take a walk in the author’s shoes.