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March 09, 2006
The Potato Liberation Front in Co-operation With TOWACA PRESENTS...
POTATOES ARE A PRODUCT OF NATURE
The tragic story unfolds to the plaintive and authentic strains of real cowpierogie ballads, sung by generations of cowpierogies standing their lonely range vigils.
(music cue)
"Whoop-ee ti-yi-yo git along little pierogies...
It's your misfortune and none of my own."Share the heartbreak...share the TaterTot tent...share the spud.
Posted by tree hugging sister at March 9, 2006 01:38 PM
Comments
You're worrying us, dear.
Posted by: Ken Summers at March 9, 2006 01:45 PM
Ya' know they like getting oiled up..........
Posted by: Crusader at March 9, 2006 01:47 PM
I like how they cuddle under the rosemary tree.
Posted by: Mr. Bingley at March 9, 2006 01:50 PM
You're worrying us, dear.
You're the one who thought the LEGOS were so clever...
Posted by: tree hugging sister at March 9, 2006 01:52 PM
I didn't say it wasn't clever. But artistic types do tend to be prone to nervous brokedowns.
Posted by: Ken Summers at March 9, 2006 02:16 PM
Dressing a pierogie is enough to give you a brokeback. Little buggers are slicker 'n sn*t.
Posted by: tree hugging sister at March 9, 2006 02:18 PM
Dressing a pierogie?
Obviously you used ranch.
Posted by: Mr. Bingley at March 9, 2006 02:31 PM
My I throw in a gratuitous Hank Williams reference?
Posted by: Ken Summers at March 9, 2006 02:33 PM
Oh, please do...
Posted by: tree hugging sister at March 9, 2006 02:38 PM
"Goodbye Joe, me gotta go, me-o-my-o
Me gotta go pull the pierogie down the bayou..."
Who knew there were Polish Cajuns?
Posted by: Ken Summers at March 9, 2006 02:52 PM
In that part of the swamp, filé gumbo could be a command as well as an ingredient.
Posted by: tree hugging sister at March 9, 2006 03:00 PM
Uh oh. I feel a Jim Stafford reference coming on...but I can't seem to make a pierogie joke out of it so I won't do it.
Posted by: Ken Summers at March 9, 2006 03:32 PM
Heheheheh. You put fake flames on a pile of matches.
Posted by: Nightfly at March 9, 2006 05:19 PM
That's for the "Come on baby, light my fire" musical interlude.
Posted by: tree hugging sister at March 9, 2006 05:29 PM
I've only one thing to say…
HASHBROWNS!
Posted by: Gunslinger at March 9, 2006 05:33 PM
Read the tent, did you?
Posted by: tree hugging sister at March 9, 2006 06:02 PM
Throw in some sausages, and the photos will be complete.
Posted by: The_Real_JeffS at March 9, 2006 09:51 PM
Not being critical....but uh, those lambs look like furry bass with legs. Correction, My Favorite Martian bass with furry legs.
Maybe it's just me.
Posted by: Dave E. at March 9, 2006 10:04 PM
Jeez Dave, it's not like we have a LEGO budget around here or anything. We do the best we can with leftovers.
Man. I'm crushed.
Posted by: tree hugging sister at March 9, 2006 10:22 PM
Oh my, don't be....I just see bass everywhere. Can't help it. Thank God they were able to smooth things over with that woman in Payables last month.
Posted by: Dave E. at March 9, 2006 10:37 PM
Sorry for the double post....got an error....from the website too.
Posted by: Dave E. at March 9, 2006 10:43 PM
I fixed 'er up, just like I did with my little western diorama. You make do with whacha got. ::sniff::
And you seem to have a serious bass fixation problem. Sounds like that Ambien "I didn't know I was on Interstate 65 the wrong way" dream state. Here's a picture of a big stud with his lunker hanging out for you to drop off to the big slumber pond with.
Posted by: tree hugging sister at March 9, 2006 10:54 PM
Dare I say it?....Brokeback bass...The Movie.
Posted by: Dave E. at March 10, 2006 01:25 AM