Hungry Man Meat Loaf
For a project I'm doing for school, I had to take a photograph of a frozen dinner.
In the interest of science, I forced myself to shovel all of the advertised "over 1 lb. of food" down my gullet if only for the benefit of science.
My findings:
- Frozen mashed potatoes have the consistency of Spackle.
- The "Apple Crumble" is neither apple-y or crumbly. In fact, at the bottom of the dessert compartment, there was a milky white residue that looked exactly like semen, though tasted much sweeter than semen (a comparison I am able to make only by happenstance, not by deliberate intent).
- The corn was good.
- The Meat Loaf was unlike anything I've ever eaten. I believe it can only be characterized as having the taste, texture, and consistency of ass.
- "Hungry Man" is quite a misnomer. Despite the aforementioned "over 1 lb. of food," I was still hungry long after consuming it. I hypothesize that because the Hungry Man dinner is completely devoid of any nutritional value, my body began to demand vitamins and minerals. So I drank a glass of milk and
ate some guacamole.
9 Comments:
Living alone (and in the absence of friendship, sporting diversions, or a prosperous career), I have developed a keen understanding of the role that Hungry Man can play in the life of a solitary curmudgeon. Clearly the purpose of Hungry Man is not to provide immediate pleasure via the sense of taste. However, if one possesses rigorous intellectual discipline, the experience of eating a Hungry Man dinner can strengthen the existential foundation upon which strong moral character can dependably find purchase. Rather than choosing to view the Hungry Man as fuel (simple nourishment devoid of any other value), the intelligent man will recognize that Hungry Man also presents a challenge to his ability to conquer the essential terror of reality and exist in a kind of equilibrium with the meaninglessness of life. If a man walks away from this challenge, or denies the validity of it by mocking the sensual shortcomings of the Hungry Man, he forfeits not merely his masculinity, but his very humanity in exchange for the soothing illusion that he is a man of rarified tastes.
Toooooo much info Arlo : a comparison I am able to make only by happenstance, not by deliberate intent...
And Kelly, for gods sake, put the fucking book down and get out of the house and go bowling fer gods sake.
Yours In Christ:
Lord Stiggy Stigmutha of the Fockin Universe
C'mon, Stig. What sexually-active, non-religious man hasn't been snowballed?
Ugh. I just got that awful feeling I had when I was kid and someone yelled "who here hasn't been snowballed?" and I knew, I just knew, that if I raised my hand everyone would rush over and try to snowball me. I kept my hand in my Wranglers then, and I'm keeping my hand in my Wranglers today. It's warm in my Wranglers.
Arlo, your naivete never ceases to amaze. The Hungry Man is not about taste or nutrition, it's about speed. For the love of God, just put the plastic fork and knife away and dig in like a man with one eye on the stopwatch. When finished, stand up, grab the Hungry Man tray, spike it on the ground, do a little dance, and get ready to drink a case of beer.
Jesus, I thought you would have seen the commercials.
Milk and guacamole? I hope there were chips or fork involved there. If the guacamole came straight off those semen-familiar fingers, that's just gross.
You know, Peter Lawford used to carry around Cepacol for those special ladies in his life. It's not a bad idea. Or try this line "Hey baby, that was great. Have an Altoid."
You see it's generous and thoughful and a prophylactic measure against inadvertent snowball episodes, unless that's what you want, which is OK, I guess.
As for "Hungry Man," it's pretty clear that, no matter how you slice it, it's almost completely unrelated to food or nutrition. Whether you take it as an existential excercise, test of masculinity, time trial, or whatever, it clearly has nothing to do with food which apparently Arlo has testified to.
Arlo: in answer to your question, Me. Unless you count the time I took that bath with the snow monkees.
The Moral to the Story, Arlo? If you want heavy discussion traffic on your Blog, just mention semen. That will get 'em chatting! All of this other stuff - political discourse, societal analyis, and what not is way to screwy a curve ball for us to hit. Nope. Go with the semen. That, or videotape yourself losing your shit over a girl.
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