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January 9, 2007

1.9.07

On this day in history in 1984, Chicago baglady Clara Peller was first seen shouting "Where's the beef?" in commercials.

Okay, wise guy. Where is the beef?

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Michele: The Cow Says "Moooo"

He sat down to dinner and asked why his hamburger looked pale.

“It’s a tofu burger. We no longer eat the carcass of dead animals, dear. We are going vegan.”
“I like my dead animals.”
“It’s cannibalistic.”
“I’m not a cow.”
“Today, we are all cows.”

Tofu, tempeh, too many vegetables, and no animal fat makes a hungry man mad.

When eggplant replaced the “steak” in Philly Cheesesteak, he lost it.

He set a pot to boil after he tied her up.

The last thing he said to his wife before he gutted her was “Today, we are all cows.”

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Jim: The Saltpork Trail

Cotton puffs of lavender clouds hung lazily against the orange sky as the sun dipped below the horizon. In their dens, coyotes stretched while daytime creatures scurried home. All was right with the world.

Unless you were one of the Triple J cowhands sitting down to another evening meal of burnt-crust beans and lukewarm salted pork.

Morris stared at his plate “When we get to Abilene,” he muttered, “I’m getting a thick, juicy steak!”

“How the hell could we lose all five thousand steers?” Jones growled.

“It’s l-like I said,” Jenkins stammered. “There was this girl with a straw…”

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Jeff R.: Surf and Turf

Not many people know that in the eighties, all major fast food chains were mob-operated.

So, when the Chicago crew that ran Wendy's brought in a retired assassin (and the Windy City's only ever 'made' woman) for a commercial, it was more than just a clever catchphrase: it was a pointed taunt at Burger King's owners, the Vegas crew, who's best enforcer Tony 'The Beef' Boffatelli had recently vanished without trace.

Ultimately the joke was on them, though: Boffatelli was in witness protection, testifying against all the families. They got him in '92, though; now he sleeps with the fishes.

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David: Herd Mentality

In retrospect, it was a mistake engineering sentient cows. Their motives were pure: the easiest way to tell if one was infected with mad cow disease was to interview it.

Oddly, PETA was okay with that. Apparently, if the animal can talk, they don’t care. It was civil libertarians that won them status as persons, and then citizens.

Suddenly, Homo sapiens was outnumbered. Ranchers became slavers; non-vegans, cannibals. It was only a matter of time before a cow proved it was 35 years old and a natural citizen. That’s how we got our first cow president.

Excuse me. Bovine American.

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Stacy: Kobe or Not Kobe...That is the Question

“Hey, you there… more beer.”

The serving boy scurried over with a full bucket. He doled out the honey colored brew, then bowed deeply and backed out of the room.

“This is the life, isn’t it, Ed? I don’t know what we did to deserve a vacation in Japan but it sure beats hanging out in a field in California.”

“Sure is, Phil. But what’s with all the beer? Don’t they know this stuff is fattening?”

A lovely kimono-clad girl stepped into the room.

“Time fow you massages,” she chirped in broken English.

“Yep,” sighed Ed, “this is the life.”

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