Monthly Archive

As you know, my good friend Hamburger Brown discovered a magical portal to an alternate universe the other day. He was getting some hotdogs from a mysterious hotdog factory meat locker. Long story short, he is now the reigning prince of Meatville.

As senior reporter for the Gold Coast Traveler, it is my duty to explore new lands. So, I got my bags packed in a hurry when HB invited me to visit the Meatville. After knocking on the mysterious meat locker door our secret knock, the door opened. Instead of row upon row of frosted weiners, we were met by a beautiful, hickory-smoked wonderland!

The skinny on Meatville is that everyone here is a meat. Or mostly meat. There are some corndogs, and a chili monster, and some noodles who are on student-exchange program from Carbtown (the land across the Gravy River from Meatville). Oh, and there are some owls here for some reason.

I’ve got four days here in Meatville. I’m going to learn the customs, meet the locals, and hopefully learn how to make a Chateaubriand.

Understanding how a civilization is governed and how the citizens employ themselves is critical - this gives you the most fundamental idea the values of a country are.

Meatville is an absolute monarchy, ruled by a double cheeseburger and a Sloppy Joe. King Burger and Queen Slop are wonderful sovereigns - they pretty much let everyone do as they please without a lot of interference. They really have only one employee — a butler named Sir Loin, who advises them, a lot like Benson did on that show.

 Everyone in Meatville likes King Burger and Queen Slop, which is good. The Meats here pretty much stay alive forever, so they’re not leaving the palace any time soon. When I met King Burger and Queen Slop at the Palace, the king dubbed me Sir LaTable. I told him my name was Pickles, but he didn’t care.

Meatville rivals Newark or Mazatlan in terms of diverse industry. Meatville’s top three exports are sporks, knorks and barium enemas.

I’ll tell you- the spork factory tour is much better than the knork factory tour. You get mashed potatoes at the end of the spork factory tour, AND a case of sporks. You don’t get anything at the end of the knork factory tour, except for a hairnet. I’m not sure what you get at the barium enema factory tour - I ran out of time.

Day 2 was all about Meatville’s natural wonders. First stop was Ol’ Sticky – the world’s largest and most reliable barbeque sauce geyser. Ol’ Sticky is the crown jewel in Meatville’s famous Muttonchops Park. Erupting every sixty-two minutes, Ol’ Sticky releases over 400,000 gallons of mesquite-flavored goodness. Fun fact: Every August 30th, Meatvillagers celebrate Marinadia, an annual festival where the meats soak themselves in Ol’ Sticky’s gurgly spewage as a rite of renewal.

Tonight I was lucky enough to score a ticket to Meatville’s most popular cabaret, Hot Dish! I read several reviews about the show and all of them raved about the performances of Madame Mignon and the Rib Rackettes. And I now why- I’ve never seen a show like it! There was juggling, joke telling, dancing, marionettes, skits, singing, baton twirling, ventriloquism and at the end, Madame shot the Rackettes out of a canon. Ring master, thespian, puppet master, chanteuse…my hat is off to you, Madame. Bravo!

Oh there’s sadness today in Meatville- because I’m leaving tomorrow. I decided that to avoid the future, I would take a trip to the past. Meatville’s Yesteryear is a theme street where the buildings are old timey and the hosts wear powdered wigs and tell you how to use butter churns, spinning wheels and Radio Shack’s
Commodore 64. Or at least that’s what they tell you in the brochure.

Our tour guide seemed to have a different agenda. His name was Mean Larry Lambshank and he was a crank. Bad drivers,crooked politicians, the idiot dentist, jerk chickens and punk-ass babies…he had stories about all of them. These stories facinated the school kids in our tour group. This group, which sailed across the Gravy River from Carbtown, included a bunch a pee-wee zitis and their chaperone, Rita Ravioli. Each Mean Larry story solicited clapping and questions from these odd pastas. Ms. Ravioli would say, “Hmmm…Is that so, Mr. Lambshank? Class, let’s noodle on how we can change the world with the help of Mean Larry!”

At the end of the tour, we were able to mine our own gold in the fake mine shaft of Meatville. I scored 2 smooth rocks, 3 sparkly rocks, and a Cheerio from a punk-ass baby on the tour. What a great way to learn about the rich history of Meatville. I can’t wait to come back.

My new neighbors moved in this week - a couple of kids right out of college it looks like. One’s name is The Fog, and the other’s name is The Blob. Supposedly, their dads are famous Hollywood actors. I’m a little nervous because they seem like party animals. I hope they don’t have any of those “keg” parties I hear the kids have these days. They are very friendly though. From what I can tell, The Blob is the messy one.