Wednesday, October 24, 2012

They Call Me Tater Salad

Watching TV in this great nation you have more than likely heard the benchmark phrase for Dunkin' Donuts, "America Runs on Dunkin'". I think that slogan can be changed just slightly for this great frozen territory, which should say, "Idaho Runs on Potatoes."

For full effect, download "Hot Potatoes" by The Kinks, and play at maximum volume throughout the duration of this post.

They absolutely L-word potatoes up here, more than they L-word cows, and that’s saying something. This vegetable is sacred to them, it's all that they've ever wanted, it’s the yin to their yang. You take potatoes out of the state of Idaho, and what do you have?

Good question. What would you have? I really don't have a clue.

For the record, if you haven’t voted already, or aren’t registered to vote, or don’t actually know what voting is, go do it RIGHT THIS VERY SECOND!!! A very intelligent, very passionate, very wise sage from the school with the W will swiftly snap your cervical vertebrae in a violent manner if you have not contributed to the democratic privileges that so many people take for granted every November.

In other news…

Idaho Counselor: "We're actually just gettin’ done with harvest break this week."

Swamp Thing: "I'm sorry, harvest break?"

Idaho Counselor: "Yeah, it's sort of like fall break for Utah, ‘cept up here we take a whole week off to do the harvestin'.”

Swamp Thing: "And when you say harvesting, you're speaking figuratively, right?"

Idaho Counselor: "Oh no, I really do mean that we harvest. We gotta whole lotta potatoes to bring in, so that break is usually for the kids to help their Dads harvest. In some of the rural schools, they e'en give 'em two weeks to bring in the crops."

This place just leveled up in awesomeness. Leveled up? What kind of a phrase is that? It makes me sound like a gamer or something. I’m not one of those guys, I actually speak to women face-to-face.

To my right is seated a group of very distinguished, very elegant, very moronic hair dressers, from a place my follicles have never even heard of before. They are by far, the loudest assemblage of estrogen this side of the Snake River, and could someone please give me something to grind my teeth on, I’ve been chewing a hole through my tongue in cynical rage just overhearing some of the things that they’ve said in the last 45 minutes.

DB Dresser 1: “This network won’t let you get on Facebook?! What the heck?! What else is there on the Internet?!”

DB Dresser 2: “Like how come this flyer says that tonight’s thing starts at 17:00? What the heck does that mean? There’s no such thing as 17:00. These people are like SOOO stupid.”

DB Dresser 3: “Ohmygosh! I just got the down low on Paul Mitchell. I saw their booth, and they are like, killing us. They’ve got like, ideas and stuff for kids, like to make ‘em think and stuff, ladies we’re getting scooped.”

DB Dresser 4: “You know what the best thing about pockets is? You can put like, trash in it, and you can like throw it away later.”

DB Dresser 5: “I LOVE their makeup. I want to learn how to look ‘beat up’ you know?”

DB Dresser 6: "Ooh, you guys, look at that guy next to us, like he's typing so FAST!"

Those are all exact comments, VERBATIM, from creatures seated next to me who are trying to sell the idea of higher education to the local potato harvesters. In the meantime, can someone please get a hold of the local Idaho Falls drug dealer? I’m going to need a shot of put-backed taters in my arm to keep me sane for the rest of the night.

What do you think?


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