Inexplicable Human-Chair Fusion

Today, we have another one of those stories that simply doesn't have any splick. It is, in a word, inexplicable. There's really no other way to describe an incredibly obese man who has sat in the same chair for so long (two years as a matter of fact) that the fabric of said chair had fused to his skin. And even though that is inexplicable, I have another aspect of the story that is even MORE inexplicable. The above mentioned individual had a girlfriend.

Let's go to Channel 7 in Ohio, WTRF, for the facts of this story. (Warning: I know that I made this sound bad with my little introduction above. Trust me. It gets a heck of a lot worse. Consider yourself sufficiently warned.) We have an obese man. Now, the exact weight is not provided for some reason (probably because the media sucks), but let's just say that it had to have been sufficient enough for him to have enough difficulty getting out of his chair that he just decided it would be easier to simply stay put. And considering that this chair did not have proper plumbing facilities, that must have been one hell of a decision to have to make, if you catch my drift.

One of the remarkable aspects of this story (but not more remarkable than someone being fused to a piece of furniture because it's going to be super hard to top that) that needs to be mentioned right now is that "...two other able-bodied people lived there---another man, who had a separate bedroom, and the girlfriend of the man who was stuck in the chair. Officials say the girlfriend served food to him, since he never got up." How...how does that happen? How do you live in a house with a guy who never gets out of his chair...for anything?! Bodily functions did occur! It's not like they're going to stop just because you're too fat to get up anymore. Two years. Keep that in mind. Two years of sitting in two years of your own filth. I think I'm going to hurl. (And just because that imagine wasn't enough, I'm going to mention that "...he was sitting in his own feces and urine and maggots were visible." Oh, God. Now I know I'm going to hurl.)

But it wasn't just that he lived with two able-bodied people that disturbs me. See, it appears that there had been visitors to the home during this two year period of never leaving the chair. "...the landlord says the man in the chair rented from her before and used to be a vital active person." Obviously, the key words in that phrase are "used to be". (The non-key words in that statement are everything else she said. Oh, what's that? He wasn't always fused to a chair? You don't say! Moron.) But it goes on to say that "...she checked on them periodically but lately he always sat with a blanket over him. She says she had no idea it had come to this." She what? And he what? Wait a minute.

Wouldn't the stench from an obese man who had been sitting in his own filth for the past two years simply be overwhelming?! She didn't notice the strong smell of poo emitting from this man?! I'm assuming that it wasn't a magic blanket that he would drape over himself when she came over. Now that I think about it, where would they find a blanket big enough to cover him, the chair and all of the maggots? (God, just typing that makes me gag.) Is there a Snuggie that big? Regardless as to where they shopped, I still don't understand how you wouldn't just be knocked off of your feet by the smell if you were in that house. I kind of don't understand how you wouldn't just be knocked off of your feet by the smell if you were in the vicinity of that house. Two years of fecal matter and urine is a lot of fecal matter and urine. The smell must have been unimaginable. Stinky, but unimaginably stinky.

How does this man have a girlfriend? More importantly, how is this woman's boyfriend the man who is so fat that he hasn't left his chair for two freaking years?! What are her standards?! I mean, obviously they're QUITE low. But seriously? You're dating So-Fat-He's-Stuck-To-His-Chair Guy? Really? I guess taking him to family functions wasn't all that important to you, eh? The more I ponder this, the more depressed I get. A morbidly obese man who has been sitting in his own urine and feces for two years has a girlfriend, yet I, an amazingly mobile woman who has never been fused to a chair, is single. What the what is that about?

I saw this story a couple of days ago and I am saddened, but not surprised, to report that the man who was fused to his chair and sitting in his own waste for two years with a multitude of maggots has died. Is anyone really surprised? I can't say that I am. And I also can't say that he might be better off this way. His quality of life before he was removed from his chair certainly wasn't anything that anyone would strive for. And while I tend to take a rather libertarian approach to these sorts of situations, I'm going to have to say that I'm appalled that the people living with this man didn't take some sort of action before it got to this point. I mean, if you want to eat yourself into oblivion and become incredibly fat, that's your choice. I'm not going to intervene with that one. But I think that at the point where human flesh becomes fused to a piece of furniture, you're under some sort of obligation to do something like make a phone call. And if the person stuck to the chair doesn't like it, they can just unfuse themselves and do something about it. Oh, what's that? They can't move? Because of all of the fusing? Yeah, OK then. Keep dialing.

A Feast For A Fatty

Well, well, well. I knew I would hear about Donna Simpson again and I figured that it would be pretty soon, but I just didn't think that it would be in this fashion. I figured the next I hear, she would have been dead as a door nail. But that wasn't the case. Yet. Ms. Simpson, as you may or may not care to remember, is on a quest to become the world's fattest woman. That's right. She wants to be super, duper fat. Her goal is to reach 1,000 pounds. And not only is she is well on her way, but she's a whole heck of a lot closer thanks to her Christmas feast which she enjoyed just the other day.

Ms. Simpson, all five feet, two inches of her, defended what she ate for Christmas dinner by telling The Daily Mail, "'I eat as much as I want, whenever I want but at this time of year I really go all out. Christmas should give you carte blanche to do whatever you want." Interesting philosophy you have there, Jabba. See, I don't think that there are any days where you get to do "whatever you want". Seems sort of like an anarchist's guide to denial. Let's see if she says anything else to solidify that theory. "Donna, who insists she is healthy, told the Sunday Mirror: 'People who feel guilty about eating are hilarious." Let's see...five foot, two inches...648 pounds...yeah, you sound real healthy there, cupcake. I guess it's your abundance of health that is the reason that you need a Rascal to get around since you can't walk under your own power. You're barely ambulatory and you can roll there and say that you're healthy? I think you're the one who's hilarious.

I also think that she's the one who is gluttonous. Shall we take a gander at her Christmas feast? I think we shall. (By the way, if you're wondering how she pays for all of this food, you're going to be sorry that you ever wondered anything remotely like that at all when I tell you that she "...makes a living from being fat, getting paid to make public appearances and keeping a website where people can pay to watch her eat." See? Sorry.)

Two 25lb turkeys
Two maple-glazed hams
15lbs of potatoes (10lbs roast, 5lbs mashed)
Five loaves of bread
Five pounds of herb stuffing
Four pints of gravy (that's half a gallon!)
Four pints of cranberry dressing
5 lbs of chopped carrots
5 lbs of sweet corn
5 lbs of butternut squash
1 tray of mixed green salad including salad dressing
And a 'salad' made of marshmallow, cream cheese, whipped cream and cookies.

Holy. Crap.

The Daily Mail estimates that the caloric intake of her gastronomic gluttony is about 30,000 calories. That's about 2 weeks worth of food there for a regular person, strictly speaking calorie-wise, of course. It's also right around the caloric intake of all of the animals during feeding time at the zoo. While I assume that her enabling boyfriend cooked all of this for her, my question is where did he cook it all? Did he get it all pre-made? He'd probably have to. I wonder if he rented a wheelbarrow or a forklift to get it all in the house.

The thing that bothers me about this situation, other than the fact that it's incredibly disgusting and beyond selfish, is that this woman (and I use that term loosely, as I'm pretty sure that any gender that she might have been born with is fairly obsolete and irrelevant at this point) has children. She has a 14-year old son and a 3-year old daughter. She's going to kill herself with her carte blanche on life and they are going to be without a mother. Real nice, there. Too bad that her philosophy couldn't have included being a responsible parent to her children.

The Fat Folds Of Christmas

OK, so it's officially the Christmas/holiday shopping season and people are out in full swing. And you know how you get when you're really doing a lot of Christmas shopping. You end up with bags and bags of stuff and not enough hands to hold them. Maybe sometimes you wish that you had another way to hold all of your newly begotten wares. Maybe sometimes you even wish that you didn't have to pay for things at all. And that's when you go back to thinking about how you wish you had another way to hold things that you didn't want to pay for. That's probably when you decide at the time that it's a good idea to attempt to conceal merchandise underneath your breasts (that must have been the size of Canada) and fat rolls as you walk out of an Oklahoma TJ Maxx. Wait. What now?

Correct. Meet a one 28-year old Ailene Brown and a one 37-year old Shmeco Thomas. (I'm guessing that "Shmeco" is pronounced phonetically, since someone clearly neglected to buy a vowel at some point during the naming process. And it would be remiss if I did not point out that Shmeco kind of sounds a little bit like and looks a little bit like the word Shamu. And that this story is about people concealing things underneath their body fat makes it sound all that more whale like!) Behold!

If you're wondering which one is which, Shamu Shmeco is the one that looks like Kenan Thompson from Saturday Night Live.

Now that we all know who's who, let's continue. It would appear that the two aforementioned ladies were shopping at a TJ Maxx in Edmond, Oklahoma. According to The Orlando Sentinel, "...police say they used their bodies to conceal the goods. Edmond police authorities say it was at the Edmond TJ Maxx that loss prevention officers found the duo stuffing items under their belly fat and breasts." Stuffing items. Underneath...their...belly fat and...(I don't know if I can go on without hurling)....breasts. Good Lord, I think I'm going to be sick.

Yep, just tucked a few things away in there for safe keeping, I guess. What the what?! If you're big enough that you can stick things in between your mammoth rolls of fat and have them not fall out or (hopefully) be discovered, how large are you exactly? What is the surface area of your body? What is your getaway car? A Rascal scooter because you're too fat to walk? Seriously now. There has to be more to this story than just this. Are they sure?

Oh, yeah. They're sure. (Whoever those loss prevention folks are, I certainly hope that they get a raise of some sort. I would not have wanted to be a part of this.) According to a one Officer James Hamm, "These two were actually concealing them in areas of their body where excess skin was, under their chest area and armpits." I think I'm going to be sick again. Do you want to know what they were trying to steal? Do you? Really? What if I told you that there were multiple items? Then would you still want to know? I'll wait. Let's say that you do (but don't say I didn't warn you). That's when I'd have to tell you that they tried to steal four pairs of boots, three pairs of jeans, a wallet and some gloves. Wait a minute.

Boots?! They were sticking boots under their boobs?! Boob boots?! Ewww! And did I mention ewww?! What kind of boots? Hiking boots? Those spiky heeled boots that no one I know could ever possibly wear, yet I see them in stores all over the place? What kind of boots? And three pairs of jeans? Look, I've only seen the heads of these ladies, but if this story is any indication of their actual size, those jeans must have been made by Omar the Tentmaker if they were picking them up for themselves. And what's with the wallet? Clearly, they don't have anything to put in it. Was it an impulse steal? At the register that they attempted to bypass?

According to the officer on the video (handily provided below) one of the women actually had three boots concealed underneath her breast and bra. Three boots...two boobs...you do the math! (I don't know what that's supposed to mean. I'm still a little in shock by all of this and usually when numbers get thrown around, there's math involved. My apologies.) Where were the other...five boots?! If you've got hoots big enough for three boots to be stuffed under there, those are some pretty big hoots! Good Lord, woman.

I think that we really need to take a moment to soak in just how many items we are talking about here. Thus, I have prepared this handy visual aid to help with that task. Behold!

Now, I don't know about you, but I'm pretty darn sure that I could not conceal a single shoe anywhere on my body in the fashion that these two ladies did. But somehow, they managed to stuff eight boots in their somehow AND some jeans on top of that! And even once you have the eight boots concealed on your person, you're just getting started! You've still got three pairs of jeans, gloves and a wallet to go! And yes, I realize that the story said that just one of the woman had the three boots concealed underneath her hoots. Where were the other five boots?! Huh?! That means the other chick had the other five stashed about under her folds of...of...skin. Ugh.

People never cease to amaze. Or in this case, they never crease to amaze me. I know, I know. It's a poor play on words. Especially since we're all dealing with the mental image of all of those boots with boob sweat all over them. What? You hadn't thought of that? Well, think of it now because you know that's what happened! Here's to hoping that none of that merchandise was placed back on the shelf and was instead taken out back and burned in some sort of ritual. The video of this story is below. It's pretty much what I've already described, but perhaps you want to hear it for yourself.

So Gross And So Hazardous To Your Health

The FDA is now going to have more graphic warnings on cigarette packages. That's not a bad idea. You know and I know that no one reads those things. Then again, it's not like you can't figure out that smoking is bad for you. But yet, people continue to do it. I know, I know. Supposedly, quitting smoking is harder than quitting heroin. I don't know about that. I've never smoked and I've never been addicted to heroin, but it seems like a pretty strong comparison, so let's just say that quitting smoking is hard, shall we?

According to The Washington Post, the new warnings will consist of "...images that could include emaciated cancer patients, diseased organs and corpses." Nice. Apparently the new warnings will no longer be regulated to just the side of the cigarette pack. No, now they will take up "...half the front and back of each pack and 20 percent of each large ad." That's a pretty significant amount of space on each pack. And since it's on the front and the back, it's not like there's going to be any getting away from it if your pack is just lying around. It is going to be a bit imposing on ol' Joe Camel, though. (Is he still around? Dead? Lung cancer? I'm not really sure. But I've always thought that his nose looks a bit like a penis. I don't know what that has to do with making someone want to smoke or not, but it's fairly undeniable that that's what it looks like. Penis.)

Here are a few of the proposed images that the FDA is mulling over. This one shows a guy with a tracheotomy hole and he's still puffing away on a cigarette. The caption reads "WARNING: Cigarettes are addictive". Geez. Yeah, I'd say.

This one says "Warning Cigarette smoke can harm your children". What a cute little baby. How much do you want to bet that they don't use that one because it's a black baby and they don't want to be accused of being racist and saying that cigarette manufacturers are trying to kill black babies? That's what this country has come to, so don't be surprised when it happens.

And this one says "Warning: Cigarettes cause fatal lung disease." But then they have a picture of a toe tag on a corpse. How is that helping? Why not show a diseased lung inside of a dead person? That would hit it home for a lot of folks, wouldn't you say?

Most of the ones that I looked at were along these same lines. They're fairly tame. But, then again, we've become a rather soft nation, so it doesn't really surprise me, even though it does sadden me. Then I learned that other countries have been putting gross pictures on cigarette packages for years. And those other countries don't mess around with the pictures that they came up with. Holy Toledo. Let's take a gander over there at Brazil, shall we? This one starts off with "Infarto". (I think we used to call each other that on the playground in elementary school.) Then it shows a picture of a human heart in a human chest with a bunch of cigarette butts put out in it. Good Lord! That's disgusting! And that's on the pack of cigarettes that someone is going to willingly buy? Holy crap. It's a wonder anyone smokes at all having to look at that. Behold! Infarto!

Here's another one from Brazil. It appears to depict a very premature and ridiculously small little baby. It's incredibly sad. I don't understand folks who smoke when they're pregnant. I don't get it at all. Seriously, what is wrong with you people? You can't quit for the sake of your unborn kid? Oh, I'm sure you'll be a great parent. Uh-huh. Let me know how that turns out. Actually, never mind. Don't. I can already guess.


The one below, from the UK, almost caused me to hurl. It is absolutely disgusting. I don't even know what the deal is with the guy on the left, but it appears that the inside of his neck is trying to escape. As for the one on the right, I can barely look at it without cringing. I have awesome teeth and that just makes me want to vomit. It definitely does NOT make me want to smoke. Good job, UK!


Singapore heeded to my picture of a diseased lung idea from above. Here's what they did to their packs. You know, the amount of space that it takes up is stunning. It's not like you can miss that or anything. It's just gross.

And the last one that I'm going to include is NOT for the faint of heart. Holy canoli, I can't imagine why anyone would ever think of starting to smoke if they had seen something like this first. Seriously. Behold! The dangers of smoking!
Wow. Really? Gangrene? I didn't know that smoking could cause gangrene? How does that work? Well, it's not good, whatever the situation. Smoking. Is there anything in your body it can't ruin? Apparently not. I don't know if stuff like this is going to do much for the person who has been smoking a long time. It might help for those who haven't been smoking for very long. I'm really hoping that it helps those who haven't even started yet. Make sure kids see stuff like this often as soon as they're of age to get it. Why would you want to start after seeing in graphic detail what it can do to you?

Halloween Candy From Hell

And Happy Halloween. Halloween is a weird-ass holiday if you're asking me. It's like the ultimate in contradictions when raising a child. You drill things into your child's head (Not literally! Yes, I know it's Halloween, but cranial drilling of one's offspring is never acceptable.) to keep them safe. Things like the old "Don't take candy from strangers." Then, after the kids think that they're clear on the concept, along rolls Halloween and BAM! Confusion runs amok. Not only are they going to be taking candy from strangers on Halloween, they're going to be encouraged to do so. AND they don't even have to wait for the strangers to come to them! No, they can randomly go to people's homes, knock on their door and ASK them to give them candy! And the strangers comply!! OH, but wait! There's a catch! You must ask strangers for candy only if you are dressed up in some sort of scary-ish garb. That's it? That's the catch? Deal! And the merriment begins!

Now if you're a grown-up, or you play one on TV, or even if you stayed at a Holiday Inn Express last night, it is your job to get candy for these small people that you do not know. My advice is simple: Don't screw it up. You must remember what it was like when you were a child and you went Trick-or-Treating and ended up with horrible candy at the end of the night. It's not pleasant. And as a child, you really feel like you were ripped off somehow by coming home with a bag full of crap. You need to remember that feeling and make sure that you don't continue to pass it around to the hopeful and unsuspecting youngsters who will trample your flowers instead of using the perfectly good walkway as they traipse to your door in search of sugary handouts.

Thus, here are several items that you need to avoid distributing to jovial children who have donned bedsheets for the evening.

• First up are the inexplicable Boston Baked Beans. These are not good. Why someone thought that they could make a candy that looks like and is named after a picnic side dish is beyond me. No one wants candy that is pretending to be a bean. Beans aren't all that fun.
  


• Next up are the Dum Dums. First of all, Dum Dums are way too small for any good use. Second, they never taste like the flavor that the wrapper says. And third, you almost always, for some reason, end up with the cream soda flavored Dum Dums or the pineapple flavored Dum Dums. Probably because the folks handing them out took out all of the good ones. If you're going to hand out lollipops, go with a Tootsie Roll Pop. You can't go wrong with those

• Necco Wafers. From what I can tell, Necco Wafers are Tums antacid tablets that have been flattened out and dusted with sugar. They do not taste good. Contrary to what the waxy wrapper says down there, they are not "an American Classic" and the "flavors" are not "great." Avoid at all costs.

• The general assortment of hard candies. As a rule, if it is a candy that is typically found in a grandmother's purse, you really want to avoid handing those out on Halloween. Especially the butterscotch ones. Children to not like butterscotch. Adults do not like butterscotch. Those elderly women with the candies in their purses? Right, even they don't like butterscotch, that's why they're always giving it away.

• One of the more perplexing candies out there, the Idaho Spud. This is a candy that is supposed to look like an Idaho potato. The thing is, it doesn't really look like that. It looks more like....well, um....OK, fine I'll say it, the thing looks like poo! And no one wants poo on Halloween. Ever. Hand out Necco Wafers before you hand out poo-like treats.

• Now we arrive at the Tootsie Roll. If you must give out Tootsie Rolls, give out a bunch of them to each kid. Those of you who give A Tootsie Roll to A kid are just angry, angry individuals who should probably seek counseling. You'll feel much better about things if you toss a handful of Tootsie Rolls into a kid's bag and watch them shriek with joy (until they realize they were just Tootsie Rolls). It's a lot better than watching them stare at you as you drop A Tootsie roll into their bag. Much better.
  

• Another candy that is not for children and is barely for adults is the Big Hunk. Big Hunk of what has always been my question. This thing is disgusting. It's like some sort of conglomeration of leftovers from another candy making process. Look at it! No one wants that.

• You want to see how close you can get a kid to crying on Halloween? Hand out raisins. What a waste of a walk from the sidewalk to the front door only to be given a very tiny box of raisins which you will not eat. You will use them as ammunition for torturing siblings. You will also use them as a counting aid when trying to figure out how many of them will fit up the dog's nose. You will not eat them.

• Finally, we arrive at the "feel good" treats. Oh, but they're not making the kids "feel good". No, they're making the smug, sanctimonious treat giver "feel good". Those kind of people like to be "practical" on Halloween. (Liking to be "practical" also seems to equate to "liking removing rolls and rolls of toilet paper from the front yard foliage the next morning." Go figure.) There is no place for anything "practical" when a bunch of people under four feet tall and running around the neighborhood, anticipating free candy AND getting it. Nothing practical about that and that's how it should be. Thus, no pencils, erasers, or any other type of school supply. If that was what the kids were after, they just would have gone over to Office Max and knocked on their door.

• The only folks who are allowed to hand out dental floss, toothbrushes or toothpaste are dentists and other professional individuals who do business inside of the mouth (preferably those with degrees and licenses, not hanging out on street corners under neon blinking lights that say "Massage"). But even then, they can only hand out those things at their office! At their home, they're not a dentist, they're a candy guy. So keep your floss to yourself and fork over the Snickers.

See? It's very simple. Avoid the stuff on this list, hand out stuff that kids want, and you'll be fine. Most importantly, whatever you do, just have a good time and just have good candy.

What's Cookin' On Labor Day?

It's Labor Day and that means picnics and barbecues if you're into that sort of thing. And if you're not into that sort of thing, then it simply means that it's Monday. But as I thought of all of the great grub that can be had at your typical American Labor Day feast, it made me really glad that I don't live in other countries where the grub isn't what I would call quite so great. I'm sure these countries are fine places to visit, but I can't that I'd want to live there with some of these items on the menus.

Take Peru, for example. Every year, they hold a festival dedicated to the guinea pig. And when I say "dedicated", I mean dedicated. Dedicated as in that's what they're cooking and serving up. Behold!

It's called cuy. Pronounce that however you'd like whilst you're trying not to gag. Maybe I would find it to be a little more appetizing if it wasn't just dumped in the fryer all whole like that. I don't want my food to have a face that can look at me. Ever. Nor do I want my food to have a discernible tail. Behold!

Served at a wild game restaurant in Guangzhou, China, those would be cooked field rats. I have no idea what the sauce or the outer coating on them is or is supposed to be. I am curious as to what purpose the tail serves. Is it like a built in stick, so you can eat 'em like a state fair food? I don't get it. Nor do I want it. Other things I don't want on or in my food? One of those things would be more than two legs. Behold!

Those would be deep fried spiders being sold in Vietnam. According to The Daily Telegraph, "... The fist-sized arachnids are crunchy on the outside and taste like cold, gooey chicken on the inside." An excellent description, though I'm not sure that I know what cold, gooey chicken tastes like, nor do I know why I would want to. They are 10 for two dollars which is quite a bargain. Still seems a little bit steep for me, however. Then again, any price to eat a deep fried spider seems like it would be too much for me. And it also seems like it would be a steep price for me to pay for anything this grotesque that is packaged in a can. Say, like these silkworm pupae that come in a can in Korea. Behold!

OK, see, I was going to say something about the "foods" before this one that alluded to there possibly not being a lot to eat in those countries and so they make do on what they have. But this kind of kills that theory. You would have to go out of your way to have this. It's not like you could just find the critters out in the barn like you could those field mice. (OK, fine. Out in the field. You knew what I meant!) That's just gross. Even with the sparkly toothpicks, they're just gross. You know what else is gross that sparkly toothpicks likely wouldn't help to be more palatable? Fish mouths! Wait. Yes, you heard me. Fish mouths. Behold!

What kind of fish have teeth like those?! No fish that I am aware of! Certainly not anything that is fit for consumption. Do you eat those little teeth things as well? I guess if you're at the point where you're already eating fish mouths, a few teeth aren't going to bother you much. I guess it would kind of be like if you were eating a cookie full of wasps, their little wings wouldn't bother you much either. Behold!

That would be what is called a digger wasp rice cracker. It is also called Jibachi Senbei. Neither terminology is going to make it look any better to me. Apparently, how this atrocity came to be was when "A Japanese fan club for wasps has added the insects to rice crackers, saying the result adds a delicious scent to the traditional fare." I don't want bugs in my food simply for a "delicious scent". No, thanks. And who has a fan club where the thing that you're a fan of becomes your lunch? If it was a Hello Kitty fan club, would they have kitten cookies with real kittens? It frightens me to think of what the answer to that might actually be.

And finally, just for something completely whack-a-do that really makes me glad that any chicken I might consume on Labor Day will be prepared on a grill and not in the fashion in which a restaurant in China prepares their chickens. That is, the fashion in which they kill the chicken involves having a snake bite its neck. Behold!

Oh, what the hell is that? It's just like what it looks like it is. It's a snake biting the neck of a chicken so that the chicken can be served in a dish called (wait for it) Snake-bit Chicken. Catchy, no? No. Now, I don't know if this is prominent all over China, but it was the specialty fare for at least one restaurant last year. The restaurant "...defended the controversial practice...saying the resulting dish was healthy and kept the customers flooding in". How is that healthy? Couldn't a chicken that did NOT have to be bitten by a snake be just as healthy? I'm thinking it might be MORE healthy to have it done that way. You know, without all of the snake and without all of the biting. You know what else I think? I think I'm going to be very thankful for whatever is being grilled around here for Labor Day.