Tag Archives: Chik-Fil-A

Hot Lunch

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It’s Thursday. We all know what that means. HOT LUNCH IN THE CAF!! Best day of the week if you ask me. See, I’m a bit of a foodie and when it comes lunchtime, I don’t care much for gay-ass Lunchables or daddy’s girl PB and J’s. I need something fresh. Something warm. Something I haven’t had in awhile. I need hot lunch. I need Quimbie’s.

I’ve got an ungodly hankerin’ for a basket of some of those famous Quimbie’s Q-Balls©. Q-Balls© are the ultimate nummies. Fist-sized balls of mayonnaise, deep fried, then drizzled in silky smooth Hidden Valley Ranch Dressing and deep fried again.  Top it all off with a little more ranch and a handful of glitter so they look as magical as they taste. I can hear them now, calling my name like a tantalizing Siren on the shores of of a rocky coast, luring me in like so many doomed travelers about to be turned into horny toads. God, all I want is some of those warm Q-Balls© in my mouth pussy motherfucking stat. I want to gurgle and gargle and gaggle on those Q-Balls© until that glittery amalgamation of mayo and ranch sprays out my nose holes.

And I would literally cut my own dick off for a taste of one of Quimbies yum yum Quimbadillas©. It’s the south-of-the-border sensation that will leave your taste buds growing mustaches and smuggling heroin in their buttholes. These dilla’s don’t fuck around. They are like an honest housewife who spends her afternoons vacuuming and sippin’ lemonade by the pool while David, the pool boy cleans the filters. Sure, she’s thought about taking him into the pool room, peeling off his Tommy Bahama bathing trunks and squeezing out a fresh batch of chlorine clam chowder onto his 8 and a half inch pool sifter, but she knows that if she gets caught she can wave goodbye to all her pilates and horseback riding money. Janice is too smart for that. She can just as easily fantasize about David’s pipe cleaner pounding it out in the summer heat while she fiddles her lima bean and squats over the gear shift of her BMW M3 in the carpool line waiting for the boys to get out of school.

Oooo Wee! And what about one of those succulent Quimbie’s Quapple Turnover Quassant©. So succulent. Ambrosial. Swear on my momma’s life, I would rather have a Quapple Turnover Quassants© than get an hour long blow-jeezy from a mermaid. Even if she lets me Jackson Pollock all over her sea shell titties. They’re. that. good. My urethra is literally salivating just thinking about it. With that outer sarcophagus of buttery flaky crust injected with hot applicious magma, it’s everything I love about America in one bite and none of the things I don’t love. No more income tax. No more bonuses for CEO’s after they just received bail-outs from tax payer’s money. No more Chik-Fil-A being closed on Sundays. No more having to shove my one-hitter into my rectum every time I run a stop sign. No more getting accused of sexual harrassment for popping some shorty the corndog surprise (up to the second knuckle) at work. No more Dubstep. Imagine America without all those things. Now imagine that America inside your mouth. That’s the Quimbie’s Quapple Turnover Quassant© for ya.

Whatever today may hold, whether Q-Balls© or Quimbadillas© or Quapple Turnover Quassant©, I got my 5 dollar bill. I got my tray. I’m ready. Line up single-file, bring on the Quimbie’s and stay the fuck out of my way. It’s Thursday. It’s time for Hot Lunch.

Perry for SGA Vice President

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Good morning fellow students. For those of you that don’t know me, my name is Perry Stiffschrode or as some of you have referred to me, after my little incident in the gym last September, “Perry Boner, Boner-Soup.”  I am addressing you this morning to inform you that I will be running for Vice President of the SGA for the Sophomore Class of 2011 in the upcoming elections.

To start out, let me tell you what makes me tick. Responsibility: I have 5 gerbils that I take care of all by myself. Loyalty: I sponge bathe my comatose grandmother even though I wish she was dead. Hard work: I’ve worked my way up to Assistant Drive-Thu Attendant at Chik-Fil-A in only 4 months. I am 5’6” and when I eat asparagus my pee smells awful. My LARPing character is a wood elf named Raniver of the House of Lórien. My specialty mage spell is Blizzard Inferno with a lightning bolt augmentation, I’ll have you know. Just to clear up any rumors floating around, Raniver is a pansexual entity as all wood elves are. When the costume comes off and I’m in this realm, I leave my pansexuality at the door. And I expect you to do the same. Period.

I am also actively involved in a lot of school organizations, including Youths for American Oral Hygiene Society, Fellowship of Future Orthodontists, Ninjas With Attitude: Kicking the Shit Out of Diabetes, and a founding member of the Vinny Diesel Acting Appreciation Association. For anyone interested, this week the VDAAA will be screening The Chronicles of Riddick at my house. My mom, Sharon, makes some bitchin’ fish tacos and Grapico and her new boyfriend, Grant, is gonna lay down some smooth jazz on his recorder.

Let me just say right now, everybody who is running against me I respect. They are all just as qualified as myself, if not more so. I would proudly have any of these individuals as my SGA Vice President. With the exception of Julius Nadelberg, who I know for a fact has been caught looking at animal porn by his parents multiple times. Look at the facts people. Do you really want some one-legged beastiality enthusiast representing you as a student body? No, I didn’t think so.

You know what, I had this whole speech prepared to tell you about what I plan to do when I get elected SGA Vice President, but fuck it. Fuck it right in it’s pink-starfish pussyhole. Instead, I’m just going to speak from the heart. Just like my grandpappy and his grandpappy before him. I’m not going to fill your heads with false promises of all the shit I’m going to do as your SGA representative because let’s be honest, Vice President doesn’t do anything anyways. But there are a few things that I can garantee you I’ll do if I am elected.

First off, Backwards Day. One day every month, everything is going to get flippity-flappity-flopped upside down like Bizarro World style. All of our class schedules will be backwards, so you start with your last class and end with your first. And in class the students will get to be the teachers and the teachers will be the students. Boys will wear girls clothes and girls will wear big black strap-on dildies and fake ‘staches. And slavery will be legal again and all the slaves will have to wear potato sacks for clothes and call all the white people “mastuh” or they’ll get the shit beat out of them. Backwards Day.

Second, I’m going to make Tina Fingerling my girlfriend once and for all. As you know, me and Tina had a little thing going back in 5th grade and it’s high time we rekindle this love into a burning inferno, so that we may one day be wed under the 2 moons of the House of Lórien. This doesn’t really have anything to do with you guys, but as SGA Vice Prezzy I think Tina would totally let me sneak a peek at that toight hoochie-coochie. I mean, she let Teddy Ramble cum in her hair under the bleachers last Thursday after P.E. and he’s just Secretary of the A.V. Club.

Third, and probably most important, as SGA Vice President I will make sure the Cafeteria serves popcorn chicken at least once a week. And you best believe that it will be served with those awesome smiley face french fries that when you push them down into ketchup it makes them look like blood is coming out of their eyeholes and mouth.  See, I have an advantage over the other candidates. I happen to be real close to Donna, the thrice divorced, mole speckled lunch lady in the caf. She’s in my LARPing tribe, and one Sunday after practice she let me tweak her right nipper for gas money. So, I have an in. Hear that, Nadelfuck? You don’t stand a chance in this election, you horsecock-smoker.

And finally I will petition the faculty to bring back the Sophomore Ski Trip. This is a time weathered tradition that must be kept alive. Not only will it provide us with the bonding experience, empowering us to beat the Juniors at the pep rally, but it’s probably my only chance to finger Tina before she gets her braces off and all the Senior guys make a Chinese finger trap out of her.

In conclusion, Backwards Day, Tina Fingerling, Popcorn Chicken, Sophomore Ski Trip, and Julius looks at animal porn. Thank you, God Bless America, and GO PANTHERS!

My First Suicide Note

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The following is a copy of my first suicide note from April 24, 2007. That was a really dark time in my life, 2007, like Omar from The Wire dark. But my analyst, Dr. Werner Lipschwitz says that it would be good for me to share my experience. Ya know, for catharsis. And since it’s the holiday season it seemed fitting.

Dear Cruel Cunt World,

When are the Cranberries going to come out with another fucking album already?!? Seriously. I get it, you’re on hiatus and want to pursue side projects. That’s fine. I’m sure that’s some great stuff or whatever but don’t neglect the fans that made you who you are. Fans like me. Jerry from Printing is also into “The Sauce.” Give us the real stuff: The Cranberries. Zombie. Linger. All the hits. Shit’s so awesome.

I mean, it’s 2007. They have cameras on phones now.Let’s get that new-new Cran-Cran. Fa really doe. Gotsta has it.

God. Fuck it. I can’t do this anymore. The Cranberries are never going to make a new album. I’m going to off myself. I’m going to off myself so fucking hard.

Love,

Pudding Dickenson

Obviously this suicide attempt was unsuccessful. But, not to fret, because it wouldn’t be my last. Heck, I eat a bottle of my gandmother’s prescription painkillers that she had for her bad knee every time they leave pickles on my chicken sammich from the Chik-Fil-A, when I said clear as day “if there are any goddamn pickles on my motherfucking chicken sammy, I will cut your fucking dick off, shove it in my mouth,  and then put a loaded shotgun to my forehead.”

Lipschwitz was right on the money. That felt pretty good.