"Only working dogs are real dogs!"
- Thread starter Whisper
- Start date
Before I go to sleep and this thread becomes completely 100% unmanageable, I have a slightly serious comment to make.
OC, how can those of us that live in decently populated areas have working dogs? What in the world could Herschel do around here? I highly doubt he could see patients in a clinic or bring me surgical tools in an operating room.
OC, how can those of us that live in decently populated areas have working dogs? What in the world could Herschel do around here? I highly doubt he could see patients in a clinic or bring me surgical tools in an operating room.
JEAN-PAUL SARTRE'S COOKING DIARY
October 3 -- Spoke with Camus today about my cookbook. Though he has
never actually eaten, he gave me much encouragement. I rushed home
immediately to begin work. How excited I am! I have begun my formula for a Denver omelet.
October 4 -- Still working on the omelet. There have been stumbling blocks. I keep creating omelets one after another, like soldiers marching into the sea, but each one seems empty, hollow, like stone. I want to create an omelet that expresses the meaninglessness of
existence, and instead they taste like cheese. I look at them on the plate, but they do not look back. Tried eating them with the lights off. It did not help. Malraux suggested paprika.
October 6 -- I have realized that the traditional omelet form (eggs and cheese) is bourgeois. Today I tried making one out of cigarette, some coffee, and four tiny stones. I fed it to Malraux, who puked. I
am encouraged, but my journey is still long.
October 10 -- I find myself trying ever more radical interpretations of traditional dishes, in an effort to somehow express the void I feel so acutely. Today I tried this recipe:
Tuna Casserole
Ingredients: 1 large casserole dish
Instructions: Place the casserole dish in a cold oven. Place a chair facing the oven and sit in it forever. Think about how hungry
you are. When night falls, do not turn on the light. While a void is expressed in this recipe, I am struck by its inapplicability to the bourgeois lifestyle. How can the eater recognize that the food denied him is a tuna casserole and not some other dish? I am
becoming more and more frustrated.
October 25 -- I have been forced to abandon the project of producing an entire cookbook. Rather, I now seek a single recipe which will, by itself, embody the plight of man in a world ruled by an unfeeling God, as well as providing the eater with at least one ingredient from
each of the four basic food groups. To this end, I purchased six hundred pounds of foodstuffs from the corner grocery and locked myself in the kitchen, refusing to admit anyone. After several weeks of work, I produced a recipe calling for two eggs, half a cup of flour, four tons of beef, and a leek. While this is a start, I am
afraid I still have much work ahead.
November 15 -- Today I made a Black Forest gateau out of five pounds of cherries and a live beaver, challenging the very definition of the word gateau. I was very pleased. Malraux said he admired it greatly, but would not stay for dessert. Still, I feel that this may be my most profound achievement yet, and have resolved to enter it in the
Betty Crocker Bake-Off.
November 30 -- Today was the day of the Bake-Off. Alas, things did not go as I had hoped. During the judging, the beaver became agitated and bit Betty Crocker's wrist. The beaver's powerful jaws are capable of felling blue spruce in less than ten minutes and proved, needless
to say, more than a match for the tender limbs of America's favorite
homemaker. I only got third place. Moreover, I am now the subject of
a rather nasty lawsuit.
December 1 -- I have been gaining twenty-five pounds a week for two
months, and I am now experiencing light tides. It is stupid to be so
fat. My pain and ultimate solitude are still as authentic as they
were when I was thin, but seem to impress girls far less. From now
on, I will live on cigarettes and black coffee.
October 3 -- Spoke with Camus today about my cookbook. Though he has
never actually eaten, he gave me much encouragement. I rushed home
immediately to begin work. How excited I am! I have begun my formula for a Denver omelet.
October 4 -- Still working on the omelet. There have been stumbling blocks. I keep creating omelets one after another, like soldiers marching into the sea, but each one seems empty, hollow, like stone. I want to create an omelet that expresses the meaninglessness of
existence, and instead they taste like cheese. I look at them on the plate, but they do not look back. Tried eating them with the lights off. It did not help. Malraux suggested paprika.
October 6 -- I have realized that the traditional omelet form (eggs and cheese) is bourgeois. Today I tried making one out of cigarette, some coffee, and four tiny stones. I fed it to Malraux, who puked. I
am encouraged, but my journey is still long.
October 10 -- I find myself trying ever more radical interpretations of traditional dishes, in an effort to somehow express the void I feel so acutely. Today I tried this recipe:
Tuna Casserole
Ingredients: 1 large casserole dish
Instructions: Place the casserole dish in a cold oven. Place a chair facing the oven and sit in it forever. Think about how hungry
you are. When night falls, do not turn on the light. While a void is expressed in this recipe, I am struck by its inapplicability to the bourgeois lifestyle. How can the eater recognize that the food denied him is a tuna casserole and not some other dish? I am
becoming more and more frustrated.
October 25 -- I have been forced to abandon the project of producing an entire cookbook. Rather, I now seek a single recipe which will, by itself, embody the plight of man in a world ruled by an unfeeling God, as well as providing the eater with at least one ingredient from
each of the four basic food groups. To this end, I purchased six hundred pounds of foodstuffs from the corner grocery and locked myself in the kitchen, refusing to admit anyone. After several weeks of work, I produced a recipe calling for two eggs, half a cup of flour, four tons of beef, and a leek. While this is a start, I am
afraid I still have much work ahead.
November 15 -- Today I made a Black Forest gateau out of five pounds of cherries and a live beaver, challenging the very definition of the word gateau. I was very pleased. Malraux said he admired it greatly, but would not stay for dessert. Still, I feel that this may be my most profound achievement yet, and have resolved to enter it in the
Betty Crocker Bake-Off.
November 30 -- Today was the day of the Bake-Off. Alas, things did not go as I had hoped. During the judging, the beaver became agitated and bit Betty Crocker's wrist. The beaver's powerful jaws are capable of felling blue spruce in less than ten minutes and proved, needless
to say, more than a match for the tender limbs of America's favorite
homemaker. I only got third place. Moreover, I am now the subject of
a rather nasty lawsuit.
December 1 -- I have been gaining twenty-five pounds a week for two
months, and I am now experiencing light tides. It is stupid to be so
fat. My pain and ultimate solitude are still as authentic as they
were when I was thin, but seem to impress girls far less. From now
on, I will live on cigarettes and black coffee.
OMG! :yikes: This thread got so many responses. I wasn't offended by what OC claimed 
I have a "working" breed and a tough one at that. He fetches his ball, licks his balls, hikes, runs, walks 5 miles everyday with his master (ME) and on occassion gets to herd some stupid geese at the pond we walk I thought the comment was a little tiny bit offensive But my dog lives in my house not in a run/kennel outdoors and sleeps in a nice warm bed every night and is constantly catered to. Oh, and he is also an AWESOME guard dog on my property which is a job.........So, my boy is far from a lawn ornament, they have to live outside in a run or on a chain to be a lawn ornament.
I have a "working" breed and a tough one at that. He fetches his ball, licks his balls, hikes, runs, walks 5 miles everyday with his master (ME) and on occassion gets to herd some stupid geese at the pond we walk I thought the comment was a little tiny bit offensive But my dog lives in my house not in a run/kennel outdoors and sleeps in a nice warm bed every night and is constantly catered to. Oh, and he is also an AWESOME guard dog on my property which is a job.........So, my boy is far from a lawn ornament, they have to live outside in a run or on a chain to be a lawn ornament.