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Are you ready?

January 12, 2011
by

Because I’m ready. And I was very happy to get up this morning and read this headline:

Pitchers and catchers report in 33 days. Or thereabouts.

(That’s baseball pitchers & catchers — get your mind out of the gutter.)

Now I like a good unnecessary weather-induced panic as much as the next guy, but this whole snow nonsense is getting boring. I, for one, am ready to move on.

I’m sure that Marty agrees with me. If you missed his weather-induced rant on Day 366 about the crappy-ass ketchup they serve in Greater Peoria Airport, here it is:

This is the shit that passes for ketchup in the Greater Peoria Airport. It doesn’t improve my mood. It looks like the retarded and/or brain dead cousin of Hunt’s ketchup. Thanks for this, Greater Peoria Airport. Oh, and thanks too for being over an hour late with my flight and not posting or announcing anything about it. I’ve already missed my flight to New York from Chicago and it’s probably going to be a nightmare of a day. Crown ketchup? FUCK YOU!

Yeah! At least the bottle says “ketchup”. Is there anything sadder than sitting down in a diner and seeing a bottle of “catsup” on the table? Doubtful.

No, I don’t remember what my point was either. Fuck off.

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5 Comments leave one →
  1. January 12, 2011 10:16 am

    To me, there’s two kinds of ketchup: Heinz and Hunt’s. Hunt’s sucks and that’s the end of the fucking story. It’s Heinz or nothing. I remember spending night’s at friends houses when I was a kid and when they would have Hunt’s Ketchup, you knew something was wrong with their family. Inbreeding for sure, dullards at the least, something bad was happening there and I would fake a sore stomach and have my dad come and pick me up. One word was all that needed to be said between the two of us when I would get in the car: “Hunt’s.” My dad would nod his head in solemn agreement and we’d go home and dip our fries in Heinz, the way it should be. But Crown Ketchup? Fuck that shit, I may never go back there again, I’m just grateful to be back in New York City far away from that shit. Now excuse me while I go shovel off the roof. And don’t EVER get me started on “catsup.” Fuck!

    • Fat Al permalink*
      January 12, 2011 11:51 am

      Amen, brother. Amen.

    • January 12, 2011 3:39 pm

      I’ve always been repulsed by ketchup, always. But even as a child I understood that there was something wrong, unsettling even, with catsup. It still kind of weirds me out to see it.

  2. January 12, 2011 3:41 pm

    You know, Al, you don’t have to provide a link for every idea or notion you put to paper(?). If you don’t want us to think about non-baseball pitching and catching, don’t provide a link to gay pornography.

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