Boston, MA and Sweden (pronounced “Svee-din” in most massage porns) – Guttentag! That’s how you say ”good morning!” in German when you’re in Sweden. Hey, did you hear the one about the pretty big home furnishings mega fucking empire that was putting horse meat into their in-store snack meatballs to save a couple of dollars? Jesus Christ. I mean, you can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make him climb into a meat grinder. Someone had to have been bulldozing them in there, or worse, maybe even ordered them in at gun point. I’ve actually never been to Ikea. Anyone that has been there and sampled those little toothpicked delights must be puking all over themselves right now, and possibly for eternity. I know one thing: If I ever visit their snack bar I won’t be ordering the Filly Cheese Steak, otherwise I could end up with the trots. If you suddenly find yourself on Equestrian Pun overload, that’s because there were two of them in that last sentence. Probably could’ve added a third, but I’m not sure any of you are stable enough to handle it. Anyway, how does something like this happen in this day in age? There had to have been some kind of a meeting where this idea was presented:
Chairman: “All in favor of cutting corners by using horse meat in our meatballs?”
Board of Directors: “Aye!”
One horse ducking down in the way back: “Neighhhh!!!”
So, where does this leave us? You have that pink slime in hamburgers. You have women who have no business putting on Yoga pants but they do anyway, even though that has no relevance whatsoever to this blog. You have shredded horses in the meatballs at Ikea. What will we find out next, that the McDonald’s Shamrock shake is made with ground up leprechaun meat? If you can’t trust the mega-conglomerate corporations with your health and wellbeing, then who can you trust? Who, guys?