Archive for the Food Category


Posted in Awesome, awesome song of the day, awesomness, blog, comedy, Dork, Food, Humor with tags , , , , , , on February 27, 2012 by tsanda

Yeah, I use the word busket instead of bucket.  Fuck you, I’ll cut you.  Oh sorry, I didn’t mean for us to get off on the wrong foot. I’m guesting writing for today’s column.  If you’re wondering  I’ve tied Senior Johnson up, and dropped him in a hole in the woods.   Which means the only different thing than any other weekend is he’s tied up instead of peering through binoculars at wee lads on their cub scout camping trips.  Either way, he’s in the woods, and  it always ends up with someone using a Swiss Army Knife to get free.  Have you ever heard a British person say binoculars?  It’s great.

I want to spend my few minutes of fame with Mr. Johnsons readers to explain my love for something so awesome it gets put in a big ol’ busket.



I tend to stay away from buskets as much as possible.  Nothing good happens when a busket is needed.  Mopping floors, painting, milking cows, and pooping(my toilet is currently broken).  Its just too much work.  That is until I found out about the busket o balls, cheeseballs.  For only about 6 dollars at your local warehouse superstore, you get a shit ton o balls.  Approximately 1440-2 million cheeseballs are in every busket, so it is indeed, work.  Especially when you’re trying to finish it in one sitting!  I know its going to make me sound like quite the sissy boy Nancy, but I have only finished 84% of my buskets in one sitting.  Yeah I keep cheeseball stats.  What’s it to you? I remember my 10thas well as my 10,000th cheeseball.    I’m the AC Green of Cheeseballin, I’m cute as a button, have played the game for 27 years, and no one really will remember me.



Have you ever heard Journey, and it sounds really Journeyish?  Almost like Journey is making fun of Journey?  That has nothing to do with cheeseballs, but you’re welcome.  Back to the fun part of those cheesy globes of the Gods.

“But Ironhead?  What’s with your fingers getting all orangey?”  you may ask Craig “Ironhead” Heyward.  “Those are motherfucking morsels of goodness waiting for your tongue to lick off your fingers foo!”  is probably the response you would get.  But you can’t have that conversation.  He’s dead.  So dead. RIP Ironhead.  I know what’s with that thingy.  Cheesy fingers just are a by product of deliciousness balls o cheese.  Can’t count how many times I’ve woken up with orange residue on all my electronics.  So Orange.  If you’re a lady coming over for a late night, expect that your titties are going to have orange handprints.  So orange.   I’d be lying if I said my penis has never been covered in orange powder after a lil me time.  So Orange.  It’s a rule that you cannot wash your hands after consuming said product. Always brings a smile to my face to see the awkward places I have laid my mark in cheesiness.  These balls are perfect for being thrown into your mouth by another.  Better take shooting those balls seriously.  Best believe if you’re chucking cheesethrows(my cheesy replacement for freethrows) like Shaq, and none are landing in my mouf, that you gonna get slapped.  Handprint on face. So Orange.



Little known fact is that the entire movie Predator was financed by cheeseballs.  Everyone knows the scene where Jessie “The Body” Ventura spits chewing tobacco on a shoe, and says “This stuff with make you a goddamn sexual tyrannosaurus”. It was originally supposed to be “Blaine” hocking a big ol orange cheeseball loogie. Rumor has, in the end, that is all the Predator was after was Blaine’s busket o cheeseballs.  All of this was pulled of course, when scientists discovered that eating cheeseballs ACTUALLY MAKES YOU A GODDAMN SEXUAL TYRANNOSAURUS.

Yup.  That’s really all I got.  Til next time I want to spend 10 minutes of my work day commandeering this blog, have a Rauwesome afternoon.


-Ra Uni


I’m all out of cheeseballs, thus, I must cry…cry like the temptations would want me to.

Temptations- I Wish It Would Rain



Posted in Awesome, awesome song of the day, blog, Dork, Food, Humor, Stuff, Stupid with tags , , , , , , , , , , on February 24, 2012 by tsanda

I don’t know where the fuck the Bay of Cheddar (proper nouns are capitalized, boom.) is, I imagine a place of cheese near a bay.  I figure it is very literal.  I’ve looked on every map and in every book I own, which is one.  I certainly found Waldo but no Cheddar Bays.  Red Lobster is gross.  I’ve decided to completely ignore sensical segways and approach this from a very schizophrenic mindset.  Banana.  Red Lobs is a buttery catfish, fried and served with iceberg lettuce for $20.00.  I have no idea why people go there. I have probably had it 10 times and the only thing I get when I go is diarrhea; maybe heart burn if I’m lucky.  Then a light showned on my face and I asked the server to turn off the flood light that was over my table.  She said that it came on because of the tornado outside and I had to go to the basement for shelter and survival.  Bossy.  As people are running for their lives I see a half eaten biscuit sitting on a nearby table.  Seducing me. Rabbits.  I’m thinking this isn’t the biscuit plaza down on 8th street.  This is the shit lobster.  So I do what most people probably do at that time.  I eat off somebody else’s plate. Jeez stop judging me, I didn’t say I ate out of the toilet.  But, on a unrelated note, you didn’t see any cheddar bay biscuits floating in there did you?  Okay, just making sure. Carmel sandwich.  The homeless dumpster man outback always tries to steal my toilet food.

Sorry, I fast forwarded to the future to much.  Rewind to the past.  I don’t know where Cheddar Bay is.  Wait to far. So monkey tricycle. Wait, to far forward. Eating off a strangers plate. Ahhh just right.  Or Just Wright, the just cheerfully romantic movie where Queen Latifa somehow gets a person to love her.  Queen Latifa has a couple choices for who would love her. Common and LL Cool J are neither.


Might even be out of Latifah's league.


Pizza the Hut. Although a wild night of Latifah will probably result in her being fatter and him being dead.

Although, if you are a stickler for history, Pizza the Hut already died when he ate himself.  But you get my reference.  Queen Latifah eats full humans anyways so no reason to make it a pizza monster.

Did you know that Queen L endorses Pizza Hut and Jenny Craig.  She walks out of Pizza Hut and into Jenny Craig.  Cashes checks the whole time.  Fuck how is that not my life.  I hang outside Jenny Craigs and Pizza Huts all the time.  Why is it that I am only arrested?

So, I put this cheddary bay biscuit in my mouth and it melts.  Like a cheddar filled bread M&M.  I get it.  I get why people go to Red Lobster.  Those fucking heaven sent biscuits are National Treasures. NT3CBB (National Treasure Three: Cheddar Bay Biscuits.

Hey, Latifa! Stay away from Cheddar Bay. I would kill myself if you ate all the biscuits. Stay away from Pizza Hut and Lyle Lovett for that matter.

Weirdest thing I have seen in a while?  A UPS man, raking a alley.  He then got into a BMW wagon and drove away.  I promise I saw this.  What can Brown do for you?  Apparently rake alleys. True hero.  Thanks guy.


WZRD (Kid Cudi & Dot Da Genius)

Teleport 2 Me, Jamie (fucking awesome Desire sample from Drive)


Fuck Waldo! Goldbug Forever!



Posted in Awesome, awesome song of the day, awesomness, blog, comedy, Dork, Food, Humor with tags , , , , , , , on November 22, 2011 by tsanda

Jumping Jack Flash! That movie sucks.  I was going to use that phrase to signify another hiatus I took but by bowels wretched at the sound of those words being clicked into my keyboard.  What noise does that make? It sounds like Whoopi Goldberg acting.  Whoa. Good one. Haven’t lost it one bit. Send me monies.

I was eating Arby’s the other day thinking about how it would suck to be in the military because you don’t get Arby’s sauce.  I am not even sure I like roast beef but I know I like snorting Arby’s sauce off of hookers tits.  I am pretty sure that people in Siberia don’t get Arby’s sauce either.  That is probably why they get eaten by so many Polar Bears.

That totally scientifically happens.

Arby’s sauce is a mix of crystal meth, crack, heroin, melted gummy bears, unicorn horns and almond butter.  It is mixed at the robust temperature of 123 degrees Kelvinheit.  It is then frozen, thawed, refrozen with liquid nitrogen and broken apart, like in the terminator, then heated until it melts and comes back together to form a super future machine sent from the future back in time to qwench my thirst for brownish condiments that cover grayish meats on a bun.

I like how Arby’s invented their own sauce.  I tried to package and sell my own special sauce and I got an F on the health report and was arrested.  Bunch of bullshit, it was made with love!

My goal is to eat so much Arby's sauce my blood becomes Arby's Sauce. Wait a minute... maybe that is why Polar Bears eat so many people....

People always say…It’s just ketchup and bbq sauce mixed together.  Really asshole fuckface? If it was that simple everybody would have Arby’s sauce pouring everywhere.  I would never go a meal wishing I could dunk some shit in Arby’s Sauce.  The holidays are the worst time of the year.  My parents don’t believe in dipping holiday meals in AS.  WHAT THE FUCK! Times of happiness and joy my ass.  I will sneak some Arby’s sauce in a flask like I do everywhere else.

It’s 11! time to go get Arby’s sauce.  Which is easy as I am sleeping in my car outside of Arbys.