BEST WORST HOLIDAY

Ahh, it’s that time of the year when I can wake up on a Monday morning, and not feel the anxious feeling of knowing that I have a finite amount of time to brush my teeth, get dressed, let the dog out, and get out on the road, before a very tiny window of time that separates a 45-minute commute from a 60+ minute commute.

For it is Confederate Memorial Day observed in the great state of Georgia, and I do not have to work today.

This is kind of like the feeling of watching your favorite sports team’s arch-rivals losing to a third party.  After your favorite sports team has already lost for the day.

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Atlanta has lost a culinary icon

Long story short: Ann Price, better known as “Miss Ann,” passes away at the age of 72.  She was known for running Ann’s Snack Bar, where it served an iconic item known as the “Ghetto Burger.”

It’s no secret that the Ghetto Burger is one of the most well-known must-try hamburgers in the country, most notably decreed “the best” by the Wall Street Journal at one point.

And as much as I tried to get others to go to Miss Ann’s, or encouraged for people to put their anxieties of going into a scary urban black neighborhood aside for good food, I could never get anyone to go to Ann’s Snack Bar and try a Ghetto Burger.

Now, none of those people ever will.  Nobody ever will, again.

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I LIVE IN A DESERT

Impetus:

Food deserts are defined by the U.S. Department of Agriculture as low-income communities located more than one mile from a reliable source of fresh produce and other healthy whole foods.

That’s a new term to me.  “Food desert.”  lol.

Naturally, we’re inclined to hear the word “desert” and naturally visualize harsh terrains of flat land, high heat, sand everywhere, and the sun beating down unmercifully.  Contextually, it makes sense what a food desert should be, but it’s still amusing to me that my particular area would likely be considered one.

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Expectations versus Waffle House

Impetus: Atlanta-area Waffle House getting a 60 on sanitation score makes the news.

Yes, we’re all very aware of the importance of sanitation scores in general, but this is also Waffle House we’re talking about.  Everyone who’s ever been to Waffle House has their ironic stories about Waffle Houses; personally, I enjoy recalling the time I watched an elderly waitress set her cigarette down (this was obviously back when indoor smoking was still allowed) carefully at the end of the counter so she could take some patrons’ orders, before proceeding to pick it back up and take a long drag after submitting her ticket.

The thing is though, and this should all be taken tongue-and-cheek obviously, but it’s Waffle House we’re talking about here.  A Waffle House that scores a 60 is like the Capital Grille scoring a 100.  There’s really only so much quality that’s possible at a Waffle House, and expecting scores that are higher than a 60 is roughly the equivalent of wishing to win the lottery.

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The unkillable boomer

Long story short: Woman on Georgia’s death row staves off execution for the second time, when the drug that would be used for lethal injection appeared cloudy and out of caution, postponed the execution – again.

Not that I’m rooting for this woman to be put to death by any stretch of the imagination, but this story has gained some traction, but it’s unavoidable for me to see as long as I make daily rounds through the local news circuits, and it’s the way it’s developing that makes me think that this execution is probably not going to occur.

But seriously, the drug that would be used to kill a person is deemed suspiciously cloudy, and the execution is called off, because of what?  A lethal drug might be dangerously cloudy?  To kill people?  I’m kind of puzzled to why caution is being exercised when ultimately the goal is to end up with someone no longer alive.  Sure, a quick and painless execution would give the boomer some dignity on the way out, but there’s kind of a contradiction of ideas about being humane when putting someone to death is ultimately the goal.

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The making of a real-life boomer

Impetus: death-row inmate’s last meal request revealed.

I didn’t even know that Georgia was a state that had the death penalty.  I guess I shouldn’t really be that surprised.

Anyway, the following is the list of food that a woman on death-row has requested to be her last meal; it’s evident that based on her mug shot as well as the contents of this list, she has every intention of exploding into a disgusting, miserable mess of bile, viscera, gore and digestive matter, post-mortem, much like a boomer from Left 4 Dead:

  • Cornbread
  • Side of buttermilk
  • Two Whoppers with cheese (with everything)
  • Two large orders of French fries
  • Cherry vanilla ice cream
  • Popcorn
  • Salad with boiled eggs, tomatoes, bell peppers, onions, carrots, cheese and Paul Newman buttermilk dressing
  • Lemonade

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Still waiting on Frito Lay

Short story shorter: Truck carrying tens of thousands of pounds of ice cream overturns on Metro Atlanta highway.

I don’t really know why these stories amuse me so much, but add ice cream to the buffet of carnage that has occurred on Metro Atlanta highway intersections over the span of the last 12 months.

With turkeys, hams, eggs and beer already accounted for, and dessert now added to the list, I still contest that the roads are still awaiting a good accompanying food, like some chips or maybe a produce truck full of potatoes or something, and then we can call it a party.

That being said, not that I want to hear about people incurring serious injuries or anything, but I think I’m going to subconsciously be wishing that any Frito Lay or snack company’s trucks I see on the highways, meet some unfortunate conflicts with physics and gravity within the next month.