DJ: Jesus in French fry format.
Me: The Son of God looks delicious!
DJ: Willy Porter does a song called "Jesus on the Grill" but he is talking about the grill of a truck...
Me: ...not a grill with a rack of ribs?
DJ: Right.
Me: Brings a whole new meaning to transubstantiation. I took a lot of communion as a young indoctrinated Catholic and if Jesus tasted like a brisket and French fries? I might not have strayed so far from the church.
DJ: "I am hungry! When is church?"
Me: Totally.
DJ: You could tell how good the barbecue was at a church by the size of the congregation.
Me: We could start the Church of the Holy Barbecue.
DJ: Or at the very least a restaurant called A Religious Experience.
Me: Where all the wait staff is dressed like Jesus during the crucifixion and instead of blood they are slathered in...
DJ: ...barbecue sauce?
Me: Yes! They slap down a pork sandwich in front of you and say, "The swine of Christ."
DJ: Ha!
Me: Oh man. I just had a really fucked up thought. Have a guy dressed up as Abraham, give him a sacrificial knife and have him bring a newborn baby out to a table. Just when he gets ready to slaughter the baby have the Mexican kitchen manager yell from the back of the restaurant (like the voice of God), "No Mas!" Then Abraham picks up the baby all nurturing and loving and says to the patrons, "Only kidding! Have some more brisket!"
DJ: Wow. You are right. That was fucked up.

Labels: dj, food, im convos, religion

• The unholy recipe experiments of Bacon Cereal and a Bacon Cheese Baconburger. Hijinks and artery clogging ensue.
• Canned bacon. For those that are too lazy to fry swine in a skillet.
• Comedian Jim Gaffigan on Bacon.
• Wikipedia for Francis Bacon.

Labels: bacon, food, link goodness

One downfall of the new office location is the lack of decent eateries. Despite the area being redeveloped into the fancy new architecture/design district, we are still surrounded by industrial warehouses and old cement factories that closed during the Carter Administration. Our immediate food options include two McDonalds gas station annexes, a Quiznos and a strip mall Mexican joint that does not deserve to be named. These past few days we have been venturing into nearby Five Points as it provides places to eat that specialize in food rather than Coors. For those unfamiliar, Five Points is one of the oldest neighborhoods in Denver that is renowned for its jazz history, its rich black heritage and its high crime rates (or perception thereof). Today, upon Jake's recommendation, we rolled up on Tom's Home Cookin' for some soul food. I ordered the fried chicken, mashed potatoes, collard greens and corn bread and am still wallowing in its delicious glory. My boss was rendered speechless by the peach cobbler and proclaimed upon regaining his facilities that our future intern would soon be making afternoon cobbler runs. The best part of the dining experience came after the meal when we walked back to the car and caught the chef sharpening his butcher knife on a curb in the parking lot.

Labels: denver, five points, food

• Hell Pizza is a chain of pizza joints in New Zealand. The specialty pizzas are named after the seven deadly sins and a coffin tears away from the box for your "remains."
• The Cookie Monster searches deep within himself and asks: Is me really monster?
• Ninjutsu Grand Master Masaaki Hatsumi: "Always be able to kill your students."

Labels: food, link goodness, ninjas, tomfoolery

For lunch, I got my sandwich on at Subway. Everyone always seems pissed at that place. The customers are agitated because they are in a hurry. Subway employees are either stoned college students with bad attitudes or middle-aged functioning alcoholics that hate their lives. It always seems that my sandwich is being rushed through the construction process, too. I am always getting yelled at from the toppings station: "What do you want on the spicy?" I am sorry, but I do not feel good about my sandwich unless I see the toppings being applied. One of those fucking junkies could be out of their mind and slip some onions or olives into my sub. Then, when I pull out my credit card to pay and ask for stamps, the people in line behind me have conniption fits. Hey mister and misses irritated corporate executive, a credit card is a widely used monetary unit and I collect sub stamps in order to one day obtain a free sandwich. I am poor, I do not carry cash and I like free shit, so quit getting your panties in a twist. I should have just gone to Quiznos with Jake.

Labels: data slaughterhouse, food, jake