Baddle Toads

Ok, also, I don't know if y'all knew this, but I just found out that Battle Toads aren't real.

I mean, I knew the weren't real. But I still figured that there might be battle toads out there, sort of like armadillos or narwhals, you know?

What a bummer. Did you know that it was the Battle Toads who first taught me that the best way to beat something to death is with its own leg? But, now ... where did that lesson even come from?

PS—If he were even real, Rash the Battle Toad, pictured above, would have some major emotional hurdles to deal with. Who calls himself "super cool"? The crazy one indeed.

PPS—Oh, I'm just being sad. There's nothing wrong with you, Rash.

Updates: Bird Dogs

Just a couple of things.

Popeye's Fried Chicken is new in town, and I've been eager for the opportunity to support a struggling new business, so yesterday I went to the drive-thru to try out some of their Waffle Chicken Tenders. I was all the way to the point of confirming my order when the voice on the intercom asked if it was ok that they were all out of Honey Maple Dippin' Sauce. I don't think it was until then that I finally understood what "flabbergasted" really means. All I could say was, "Well, shit. I guess I'll wait." And then I drove away.

I was, and still am, very disappointed. And I'm disappointed in myself for not telling her that they might as well throw out all their goddamn waffle chicken tenders until they get restocked with honey maple sauce, because what's the fucking point otherwise? I have to assume that Popeye's International Inc. supplies each franchise with equal quantities of waffle chicken tenders and honey maple dippin' sauce, so what the damn hell happened there? They have a leak. Or some horrible Jabba the Hutt is just taking shots of dippin' sauce.

Argh. I'm still angry about this. I should report that location to Popeye, and he can have it burned to the ground.

Man, I'm a regular Jerry Sienfield today, right? I just have this stuff on my mind. I should write it down sometime!!

The other thing I wanted to mention is an idea I had for a TV show. It's called "Meth Lab." Originally, it was going to be about a labrador retriever who figured out how to make crystal meth, and then I guess it would just be like a Breaking Bad with (and for?) dogs. I realized later, though, that because of their paws and small brains, the idea of a dog synthesizing complex molecules doesn't make a lot of sense, and we'd have to use puppets or CGI for all of those scenes. What would work a lot better, I decided, was to instead have the show be about a labrador retriever who just smokes a lot of crystal meth. It's entirely plausible, as far as I'm concerned, that a dog would enjoy and become addicted to meth, and, as a bonus, we could still use a real dog for the smoking scenes. Depending on dogs' tolerance for meth, the post-credits blooper takes could be a lot of fun.

So, to sum things up:
Popeye's can go to hell until they act like goddamn adults and figure out what the deal is with their dippin' sauce, and if I get even the slightest notion that you're going to steal my Meth Lab idea, be prepared to wake up tied to a table in a burning Popeye's.


PS—I don't like to curse this much, typically, but that Popeye's nonsense really burns my bippy.