Are you tired of feeling vulnerable while on your mobility assistance scooter. Whilst patrolling the streets for scum?
Do you feel a little slow on the draw, due to having to reach under your overhang to draw your piece?
Tired of body armor, not coming in 5xl?
Then Bobcat has the mobility assistance scooter for you.
A Bobcat, with the cockpit enclosed in bullet resistant plexiglass. With a side window to hit the drive thru window.
Eco friendly hybrid can be ran on gasoline. Better yet and more economical turn that fast food into fuel, with our built in toilet in the seat. Using the methane you create as fuel. How cool?
Now for the goodies. Armed with dual m-60's securely mounted above the headlights. With one in the back. Dual grenade launchers as well in front. And for those pesky protestors. Just back up to them. Let loose your choice of intense methane flame. At up to 20 feet long, 5 feet high and 8 feet wide. Able to burn so long as you keep going number two. Or for non lethal riot control. Just belch out a spray of excrement.
"I'm George Zimmerman and I ride this everyday."
A steal at 99 dollars a month. And the newly elected congress and senate promise to make it covered by major health insurance.
Sunday, November 30, 2014
Celebrity Chef and his Marmitons, jobless to appear on Celebrity Rehab.
Hello fellow foodies. It is sad day for us. Perhaps a new beginning. CEO has fired Chef and his staff in a cost cutting move. Chef has been piled with tens of thousands in medical bills. Currently awaiting his turn on Celebrity Rehab. Chef had no health insurance as CEO thought it was an excess expense. A doctor at Elm Street Clinic ran by the local Health Department, has stated that Chef is lucky to be alive. At age 28 some of his physical features are that of a man of 98. The doctor speculates that rehab might be too dangerous for Chef. Chef's system has become dependent on massive all day dosing of opiates, alcohol,stimulants,various household cleaning and hardware chemicals.And finally preservatives from eating processed food. due to the fact Chefs and cooks hate to cook for themselves. Let us pray that the rehab goes well. He is set to be room mates with George Zimmerman at rehab. So Chef will be well protected.
Friday, November 28, 2014
Cops,Chefs,CEO's,Clerrgy, four of the top ten professions of psychopaths
Chef and CEO were sitting in the "indie gourmet "dive"huffing Red Rustoleum spray paint, from a plastic bag. The three Marmitons were present as well. Felix was berating and bashing Dewey's slumped one eyed form over the head. Dewey had been dry humping a plant in the corner. He soon turned to take a rolled menu and smack Carl was well. Who was busy pleasuring himself to professional wrestling. Suddenly Felix saw a van pull up out the window. And a line of what appeared to be unkempt homeless people. They were getting bowls of Ravioli from an old man dressed in a chef coat. Two college age girls were pulling large rubber tubs of it from the van. Dewey alerted Chef and the Ceo of this. It was decided to take advantage of a local law forbidding the assembly and feeding of vagrants. Chef and Ceo wanted that ravioli. To be the next days special. For nothing is lost in the name of food cost. Bonus! Bonus! Bonus! trickles up the management chain. Ceo calls the police.
A few moments later two armored police vehicles arrive. One of which runs over a woman pushing a stroller flat. Without notice. 20 militarized cops jump out. Chef and Ceo instruct them on what is going on. A cop walks up to the old man in the Chef coat."You! Drop Plate now!". Dropping the plate the old man explains that he is a minister feeding the homeless. Doing the work of God. The cops cuff him. And stand him against a wall. Suddenly in well executed move out of nowhere. The two young women throw down glass tubes. A gas permeates the air from the tubes. Suddenly the cops start dry humping the air. Cries of "Me must fuck!" are everywhere. The girls grab the old man and jump in the van during the confusion. The cops in their lustful heat. Brutally grab Chef, Ceo, and the three Marmitons and have their loving ways with them. All recorded by passersby. And all over the net as we speak.
The minister later made a statement, that the glass tubes contained female pheromones in high doses. Causing the lower iq'd police officers whose reptile brains are more dominant to have to have sex. Thus allowing their escape.
Chef, Ceo, and the Cops 3 of the top 10 professions attracted to Psychopaths. Forgot that Clergy were on the list.
A few moments later two armored police vehicles arrive. One of which runs over a woman pushing a stroller flat. Without notice. 20 militarized cops jump out. Chef and Ceo instruct them on what is going on. A cop walks up to the old man in the Chef coat."You! Drop Plate now!". Dropping the plate the old man explains that he is a minister feeding the homeless. Doing the work of God. The cops cuff him. And stand him against a wall. Suddenly in well executed move out of nowhere. The two young women throw down glass tubes. A gas permeates the air from the tubes. Suddenly the cops start dry humping the air. Cries of "Me must fuck!" are everywhere. The girls grab the old man and jump in the van during the confusion. The cops in their lustful heat. Brutally grab Chef, Ceo, and the three Marmitons and have their loving ways with them. All recorded by passersby. And all over the net as we speak.
The minister later made a statement, that the glass tubes contained female pheromones in high doses. Causing the lower iq'd police officers whose reptile brains are more dominant to have to have sex. Thus allowing their escape.
Chef, Ceo, and the Cops 3 of the top 10 professions attracted to Psychopaths. Forgot that Clergy were on the list.
Thursday, November 27, 2014
Food Trollip Gets Her Wish
Today we have a guest post from the Taste Trollip.
Oh my God. I was so happy, elated and excited to finally get to bag Chef. The greatest culinary talent on the block of similar over priced hipster Haute' haunts.
I was building to a crescendo of lust. Anticipating the finely toned arms from cutting veggies all day. The rock hard abs, and solid legs from standing all day. Sometimes things are not what they seem OMG.
He lived in a sleeping room. With a common bath in the hallway of the rooming house. Freaks running amok in the halls. His room, littered with empty Steel Reserve and Earthquake Malt Liquor cans. Syringes all about. Cigarette butts in mounds. A pizza box that I believe he had done a dookie in OMG.
His body not what I wanted. Skinny fat, dried reptille skin that flaked scabs, boils, pus all about. For only being 28 he was like 98. And then the sex. Awful. OMG. He could not perform. Until he finally melted down a little blue pill in a spoon. Then he was done in 60 seconds.
The next morning , I asked if he would cook me breakfast on his hot plate. He screamed that he is Chef, not a lowly line cook or Marmiton. His job is not to cook but to run the kitchen. He then put a pack of pop tarts in a toaster oven. I balked and next thing I know woke up with a broken toaster next to my bleeding , hurting head. In his nasty room alone. I will never eat out again, and have changed my ways.
Oh my God. I was so happy, elated and excited to finally get to bag Chef. The greatest culinary talent on the block of similar over priced hipster Haute' haunts.
I was building to a crescendo of lust. Anticipating the finely toned arms from cutting veggies all day. The rock hard abs, and solid legs from standing all day. Sometimes things are not what they seem OMG.
He lived in a sleeping room. With a common bath in the hallway of the rooming house. Freaks running amok in the halls. His room, littered with empty Steel Reserve and Earthquake Malt Liquor cans. Syringes all about. Cigarette butts in mounds. A pizza box that I believe he had done a dookie in OMG.
His body not what I wanted. Skinny fat, dried reptille skin that flaked scabs, boils, pus all about. For only being 28 he was like 98. And then the sex. Awful. OMG. He could not perform. Until he finally melted down a little blue pill in a spoon. Then he was done in 60 seconds.
The next morning , I asked if he would cook me breakfast on his hot plate. He screamed that he is Chef, not a lowly line cook or Marmiton. His job is not to cook but to run the kitchen. He then put a pack of pop tarts in a toaster oven. I balked and next thing I know woke up with a broken toaster next to my bleeding , hurting head. In his nasty room alone. I will never eat out again, and have changed my ways.
Sunday, November 16, 2014
Corporate Food
Chef and his three Marmitons sat inside the now closed establishment. The CEO of the restaurant group that actually owned the "indie" spot was on hand. He was laying out plans for the upcoming local and state wide elections. Chef was to have dinner made for both the Democrat and Republican candidates. As CEO explained why.
"Chef no matter who wins, we will win. Our company has donated to the campaigns of both sides." Chef snorted a line of coke as he listened more intently. "So no matter who wins, we will get rid of that pesky health department,
labor board, and immigration fuckers."
"So my, uh your bonus will go up for food and labor cost. " Chef hissed as he cooked heroin in a spoon.
"Are the Honduran kids being taught line cooking basics at the orphanage? The one we ah, donated money toward."
"Why yes. You are to start firing all American kitchen staff. One by one over the next few weeks." spouted the CEO.
"Nothing is lost for food cost!!!" went the Chef's credo.
"Chef no matter who wins, we will win. Our company has donated to the campaigns of both sides." Chef snorted a line of coke as he listened more intently. "So no matter who wins, we will get rid of that pesky health department,
labor board, and immigration fuckers."
"So my, uh your bonus will go up for food and labor cost. " Chef hissed as he cooked heroin in a spoon.
"Are the Honduran kids being taught line cooking basics at the orphanage? The one we ah, donated money toward."
"Why yes. You are to start firing all American kitchen staff. One by one over the next few weeks." spouted the CEO.
"Nothing is lost for food cost!!!" went the Chef's credo.
Tuesday, November 4, 2014
Crack Head Erratic Fuckup
If only the fantasy they call the Food Network were real. Here we offer the real dysfunctional world of a C.H.E.F. in the shady industry of semi-fine to fine dining......
Dinner service was at full capacity. C.H.E.F. screamed and yelled from the expo station. "Move those fucking checks. You God damned fucking rotten pieces of shit." Bethany a server came up to the expo station. Needing to modify an order, C.H.E.F. turned about and yelled. "You fucking whore! You are slowing down my ticket times, raising my food cost!" She cried "I'm sorry they want no bordelaise. " "Ah, bullshit, that contains the very essence of my innards." he exclaimed as he grabbed a plate from the window. "As for you. We shall see in my office how badly you want your job! No place else will hire you. You will be black balled, bitch!" Quickly she scurried away in tears.
Mack Wu a line cook.Tall, fat, half Asian, was yelling at another server over a ticket modification. "C.H.E.F. wants it that way. That way I must do." C.H.E.F. noticed Mack. And grabbing a hot cup of coffee from a passing server's tray tossing it's contents into Mack's face burning it. "Wu, you fat gangly dirt bag piece of shit. Shut the fuck up, I am the priest of Escoffier not you, know your place in the Brigade de Cuisine. You fat sorry dong huffing jack off." Pulling a small cheap .25 caliber from his pants pocket."I love you Alphonso." his last words. Mack emptied a few shots into the side of his head Without missing a beat. "Carl, Dewey, Felix, get up here." Three dishwashers appeared from the back. "You two put his fat ass on ice. Mongolian beef is in our future menu specials." C.H.E.F. yelled at Carl and Dewey. "You run his station until we bottom out. Now Felix." he said as he grabbed another plate from the window. "Show must go on, no loss in food cost!" and C.H.E.F. kept yelling for food.
Dinner service was at full capacity. C.H.E.F. screamed and yelled from the expo station. "Move those fucking checks. You God damned fucking rotten pieces of shit." Bethany a server came up to the expo station. Needing to modify an order, C.H.E.F. turned about and yelled. "You fucking whore! You are slowing down my ticket times, raising my food cost!" She cried "I'm sorry they want no bordelaise. " "Ah, bullshit, that contains the very essence of my innards." he exclaimed as he grabbed a plate from the window. "As for you. We shall see in my office how badly you want your job! No place else will hire you. You will be black balled, bitch!" Quickly she scurried away in tears.
Mack Wu a line cook.Tall, fat, half Asian, was yelling at another server over a ticket modification. "C.H.E.F. wants it that way. That way I must do." C.H.E.F. noticed Mack. And grabbing a hot cup of coffee from a passing server's tray tossing it's contents into Mack's face burning it. "Wu, you fat gangly dirt bag piece of shit. Shut the fuck up, I am the priest of Escoffier not you, know your place in the Brigade de Cuisine. You fat sorry dong huffing jack off." Pulling a small cheap .25 caliber from his pants pocket."I love you Alphonso." his last words. Mack emptied a few shots into the side of his head Without missing a beat. "Carl, Dewey, Felix, get up here." Three dishwashers appeared from the back. "You two put his fat ass on ice. Mongolian beef is in our future menu specials." C.H.E.F. yelled at Carl and Dewey. "You run his station until we bottom out. Now Felix." he said as he grabbed another plate from the window. "Show must go on, no loss in food cost!" and C.H.E.F. kept yelling for food.
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