Maybe Mongolian Monkey Meatball? — 0 thru 9

:yum: I’d try them, no matter the nature of balls.

Or a beef jerky flavor. Call them Cow Chips. — 0 thru 9

I googled “cow chips” because I had a vague suspicion that Americans use this term to refer to deposits of cow dung. I was right, but when I discovered it was true it was too late for me to find the comment amusing. The moment had passed. Sorry.

I also found that Cow Chips are a Canadian brand of chocolate covered potato chips.

Name that dish:

white gravy w/green flecks on chicken fried steak

I've never heard of cow chips. Cow pies, certainly.

white gravy w/green flecks on chicken fried steak — BC

I would agree with you except that no one in the history of the world would ever serve chicken fried steak with brussels sprouts.

I've never heard of cow chips. Cow pies, certainly. — BC

But the road was long and home was far
So I stopped off at this little cowboy-looking bar
I walked on through the door and she just smiled
In a long pony tail and a pretty white dress
She said hi bull riders do it best
I said oh my God what's your name
My name's Lyle

And I said ooh give back my heart chip kicker-redneck woman
Take your boots and walk out of my life
Ooh give back my heart chip kicker-redneck woman
I can't be no cowgirl paradise — Lyle Lovett - Give Back My Heart

hmmm yes, the brussels sprouts are an uncharacteristically classy addition. White gravy is probably not accustomed to decorative green flecks, either. But Hanover is trying to climb the social ladder one forkful at a time. He probably had the White Trash Cookbook and the Better Homes and Gardens cookbook open at the same time and got confused.

He probably had the White Trash Cookbook and the Better Homes and Gardens cookbook open at the same time and got confused. — BC

At the very least he should have put gravy on the brussels sprouts too.

I don't think you need a cookbook to learn the artless steps to grilling hot dogs on the rusty exhaust pipe of your 74' AMC Gremlin. I imagine the only tricky part is in keeping the engine running, and not passing out from the fumes.

If the guy next door invites you to join him and his kin for an exhaust pipe weenie roast, must you accept the invitation? If you accept, what are you expected to contribute? Should you open carry a loaded gun, or not? If drugs are served, can you decline? If you don't decline, how much can you politely snort (shoot, smoke, whatever)? If you have better drugs, should you share them?

I mean, I just don't know how to act in society, ya know?

I mean, I just don't know how to act in society, ya know? — BC

You and me both, bro.

Name that dish: — Hanover

Arroz con cosas.

Valencian folks name everything with such a word when they see something different from paella.

I've never heard of cow chips. Cow pies, certainly. — BC

Now I feel foolish. I should never have gone down that cow dung rabbit hole.

We call them cow pats.

Actually though, Google's dictionary, provided by Oxford Languages, gives me the following as an example:

"he hurled a dried cow chip further than any other contestant at a rodeo"

Maybe you just don't visit the rodeo enough.

When I was growing up in Bakhakistikan, our only source of fuel was cow shit, which we would wrap in hair shavings from the local barber and then douse with vodka. Most children would sell their hair clippings for fuel in order to purchase quick huffs of spray paint fumes from the hardware store.

The local keeper of the flame, who had a small candle that if extinguished would literally force the village deeper into the dark ages, would come by and ignite the hair and shit and the heat would usually be sufficient to preserve the life of most of the family through the night, but we typically did have to take out the discards each morning upon the crow of the dying rooster.

I do remember one time we were blessed with a particuarly warm heat, but it got too warm and so the icicles melted from the rafters, impaling the unknown muttering man who mindlessly wandered about our home sweeping the permafrost floors. Once Summer came and the stalactite melted from his crushing forehead wound, he staggered to his feet, no longer sweeping floors, but now suddenly able to multiply and divide any set of numbers with incredible speed. He would have been more useful but for the snail trail of spinal fluid that would mark his path as he meandered, resulting in slipping and sliding by all who approached him.

My favourite part:

the crow of the dying rooster — Hanover

Otherwise I greatly objected to the cultural stereotypes but still smiled a couple of times, until the end, when I frowned in light disgust.

Otherwise I greatly objected to the cultural stereotypes but still smiled a couple of times — Jamal

I had imagined this fictional town to have been located not far from Kissimmee, Florida, a suburb of Orlando, not far from the Magic Kingdom. Not sure where your mind went, but apparently somewhere darker.

My favourite part: — Jamal

I actually write my stories trying to insert something that will be your favorite part. Nailed it.

I actually write my stories trying to insert something that will be your favorite part. Nailed it. — Hanover

I feel manipulated.

I also found that Cow Chips are a Canadian brand of chocolate covered potato chips. — Jamal

Hahaha! Yes, I meant “cow chips” to refer to manure. Cow pies, cookies, and flop are also acceptable. Moon pies are totally different, and only slightly less nutritious than cow pies. Selling food that’s made to resemble excrement is a cottage industry, catering mostly to scatological 9 year old boys. (See Taiwan’s ice cream parlors that serve deserts in a bowl shaped like a toilet. Or better yet, don’t see it cuz then you can’t unsee it).

Selling food that’s made to resemble excrement is a cottage industry, catering mostly to scatological 9 year old boys — 0 thru 9

It hadn’t occurred to me to exploit this market until now.

When I was growing up in Bakhakistikan, our only source of fuel was cow shit — Hanover

Nice story! Edit it to 200 words and it’s ready for the microfiction festival. :nerd:

I think Big Oil and related energy industries have been sabotaging the practice of cow dung as fuel. Dung is natural and renewable and keeps people from visiting your house, which is liberating. Goat dung can also be used, though it’s a little more pungent and may contain scrap metal.

It hadn’t occurred to me to exploit this market until now. — Jamal

Everybody poops! Ashes to ashes, dung to dung. The sweetest flower loves the fertilizer. :flower:

There’s a scatological 9 year old boy inside of each of us, trying to get out and be free! And make fart noises during church services. Business opportunities await. I’m thinking something that includes cannabis, because potty humor is funnier with pot.

Everybody poops! — 0 thru 9

Highlight of my day!

All of the songs on the Bad Lip Reading youtube channel are catchy. Love the Star Wars songs.

(If I’m bringing down the level of discourse in the Shoutbox, please let me know. Or maybe it makes everything else look brilliant by comparison? :blush: )

Goat dung can also be used, though it’s a little more pungent and may contain scrap metal. — 0 thru 9

You are clearly not a goat farmer. Goat dung comes in small pellets, like rabbit pellets and it's very dry and has little smell. If it forms in clumps or is wet, you have a sick goat.

Everybody poops! — 0 thru 9

I read that if you take too many opiates, your muscles in your bowels will relax and your feces will no longer be pushed down to the anus. The result can be your vomiting feces out your mouth, which would mean that subclass of individuals doesn't actually poop, but they instead shit vomit.

I do like the double noun descriptive term, as in shit vomit. It's sort of a country way of talking, like saying I have a goat truck, a work shirt, or a breakfast chair.

If I’m bringing down the level of discourse in the Shoutbox, please let me know — 0 thru 9

No no, you are like a breath of fresh air, with your fecal chat.

I predict this will be the winner for best short subject at the Oscars this year. The magpie is a shoe-in for best supporting avian. Admittedly, the cinematography does not match up to usual Oscar standards.



This makes @Hanover's "Cats vs. Cucumbers" video look like "Biodome" with Pauly Shore.

Not a magpie though. It’s a hooded crow. I’m the bird boy.