Giant Robot Store and GR2 News
(Art by spoon+fork.) Chuck worked out a deal for me and they released me to my overheated apartment. The first thing I did was go into the bathroom and feed my fish. I had been gone almost a week and was mildly worried I’d find him floating at the top. He seemed hungry but normal. I ran the water in the tub as I watched him eat. I turned the fish food can over in my hand and read it for the first time. I was shocked to see that the top ingredient was “fish meal.” I knew fish in the ocean ate each other, but I thought tame fish were too civilized to do the same. Would goldfish eat the flakes if they knew what was in them? When the water was high enough, I undressed and got into the tub. The reason I couldn’t eat the veal sandwich, and why I felt a little sick seeing Mr. Johnson eat it, was that my fourth-grade teacher Ms. Daley showed us some pictures from a veal farm. She had pictures of cramped stalls with no windows and said veal was the meat of baby cows who were fed very little and had their legs chained or broken so they couldn’t develop muscle and their meat stayed white and tender. She also had a picture of a dumpster that looked like it was filled with Corn Pops cereal. But when you looked close, you saw that it was a pile of dead baby chickens. The male chicks were thrown in the garbage and suffocated soon after they were born because they wouldn’t grow up to give as much meat as female chicks. About once a week, she’d give us another reason to be a vegetarian. Some kids were throwing their bologna sandwiches in the trash. Then one day, instead of telling us about how bad our food was, she gave us all copies of “The Corduroy Road.” After that, lunchmeat was okay again. It hadn’t been a problem for me because I only had peanut butter, or peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Mrs. Daley went on quietly drinking a can of V8 with nuts and dried fruits on the side. She didn’t even say anything when the boy in the back killed his first deer and brought in some venison for the whole class to try. I remembered that the meat was tough and tasted like sweat. After a while the water in the tub grew cold and filmy. I had to piss so I climbed out. I lay in bed naked for a while. I wasn’t sure what to do. It was going to be some time before the trial and my big show. Until then I had to fight the urge to go to the hotel. Mrs. Aggarwal wasn’t there anymore, but I wanted to walk around on the motel roof again. We had had some good times together and it wasn’t just the pot, either. I had never...
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Anthony Youn says that smoking after a breast lift can make y our nipples fall off. This sound like humor, but he says he’s seen in happen. It has something to do with blood flow restrictions from carbon monoxide from the smokes. He adds an anecdote from his book, “In Stitches”. Yet imagine if ones nipple did fall off. A nipple slip ala Janet Jackson. No harm, no foul. Babies might not like it, but that’s the best outlook possible. Be careful of the smoke. (CNN – Anthony Youn)
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