Teh stupid

it fucking burns. Trans fats in lard. All you need to know about how cretinism is not restricted to birdcage liners. 

Even the gentlest among us

had to call horseshit on skinny arms and all. 

On a high horse

with no copy editor. Fieri, Ferari, let's call the Pollen off. 

Seems to me

he lost. Why won't he go away? 

Jesus

wept.

We live

in a ridiculous country. 

Just when you think

the trans fat coverage cannot get any more cretinous, along comes the home of the Human Scratch N Match to prove both "reporters" and interviewees can have Crisco for brains. "I like my trans fat," he said. "I mean, I still use a stick of butter on everything." WTF? Have all the editors left the building? 

All silliness is local

As usual, nobody sez it better about the "abbatoir" at Blue Hill at Stone Barns. But could someone please explain the newsworthiness of a drunk getting trapped in a bar? I feel like I'm back in Glenwood, Iowa, where a front-page story in the Opinion-Tribune would be about a guy building a condo for purple martins. (No link, either, because I don't want to encourage them.)  

Let Allah sort 'em out

Stick a straw in it. It's done.

(Cribbed from crooks&liars.)

And I thought a garlic roaster was ridiculous

I'm not saying where, but we used to say editing the progenitor of this craze was like playing Whac-a-Mole. Clearly, we lost.