July 7, 2013

"Hot & Steamy Buns."

Untitled

33 comments:

ricpic said...

Get your hot & steamy buns here! Not that lower class death food at McDonald's, we got your upscale death food right here!

Chip S. said...

© 2013 Assman

EDH said...

Hot & Steamy Buns.

Just when us males are trying to keep our sploodge to ourselves.

edutcher said...

I dassent.

SomeoneHasToSayIt said...


Didn't you have a hot buns post yesterday too?

Chip Ahoy said...

Do they roll their cart up in front of church on Sunday, captive hungry audience, with no thought at all the cart itself is an all too abrupt descent to the bathos of human existence. Sacred teachings, hungry, bang, hot steamy buns, it's a natural progression.

Hammond X Gritzkofe said...

Oh. First glance, I thought it said "GUNS".

Lem said...

Intolerable Cruelty script... Zeta-Jones character shoot the breeze with a girlfriend.

Oooh!

Are you all right,
Sarah?

Yeah.

Wh-What is it?

Peptic ulcer.

I have medication,
but I can't take it
before elective surgety.

You shouldn't be
living here alone, Sarah.

My goddamn husbands
gave me the ulcer.

But a bottle of Bromo
can't love you back.

Yeah.

It's a catch- .

I have to admit,
I don't like living alone.

I mean, do I need more rooms?

You could see people.

It's risky. Palimony.
Son of a bitch Marvin Mitchelson.

I'm telling you, honey, getting laid is financial Russian roulette.

Maybe I shouldjust tear it all down,
build a cottage.

More landscaping.

Well, with my money,
I can't afford to be fooling around.
Besides, I have you.

It'll be fun--
just the girls.

Well, thanks, Sarah, but I can't
sleep on your couch forever.

I'm going to marry again,
nail the guy's ass good.

And this time
there'll be no Puffy von Espy.


Sorry you had to read all that to get to the "ass" part which I realize now is not really what this café is about... but I've done all this work digging it out that I'm going to post it and expose myself to the possibility of some ass kicking... or maybe I exaggerate.

AprilApple said...

Lem - Your post would fit nicely on the trendy NY neighborhood thread too.

ndspinelli said...

St. Paul was a sinner so it makes sense to have his church on the UW campus.

Lem said...

...it's a natural progression.

I was at a local garden center here this morning and took some shots... no asses/buns though... but a shot of a progression of a simple sort.

The phone camera is not good enough to capture the frequent drops of water going down to the container but trust me they are there dripping down until there is no more ice to melt.

Rusty said...


""Hot & Steamy Buns.""

Yes.
Yes I do.





Oh. That wasn't a question?

El Pollo Raylan said...

"Hot & Steamy Buns"

Do I have to spooner feed this to you all?

Althouse is speaking in code. She meant "Bot and Steamy Huns"

She's requesting more collaboration here.

Big Mike said...

If all they sell are the buns, is there a vendor nearby who sells the brats?

Michelle Dulak Thomson said...

Many years ago, when Philharmonia Baroque Orchestra was doing a run of Purcell's Dido and Aeneas, certain of the players (as is their wont) set about rewriting the libretto. There's a tiny chorus whose text is

Great minds against themselves conspire
And shun the cure they most desire


This became

Great hinds against themselves perspire;
A bum so pure they must admire


(Of course, Dido and Aeneas itself is -- inevitably -- known as Dildo and Anus in some musical circles.)

YoungHegelian said...

@MDT,

Well, any opera in which the heroine sings an aria called "When I am laid" is just asking for it.

betamax3000 said...

One Significant Step Closer to Lesbian Hot Dog Stands.

betamax3000 said...

The Significance of this Photo is on the Left Side: it is the Young Man Facing in the Direction of the St. Paul Banner but Oblivious to it. The Answers are Right There in Front of Him, and He HAS Turned His Back -- for the Moment at Least -- to the Immediate Gratification of the Hot and Steamy Buns, But From His Posture you can Tell He is at A Spiritual Crossroads.

chrisnavin.com said...

I'm nobody's splooge-stooge, damn it. I'm free and responsible, and I'll tolerate your lewd, self-promotional signage.

betamax3000 said...

By Not Positioning the Conflicted Man in the Center of the Frame Ann is Giving Him Space to Decide without All of the Attention on Him Alone: at this Crossroads Such Attention Could Be Too Much For Him to Bear in His Psychologically Fragile State. On the Plus Side, His Shadow is Behind Him, So He is Instinctively Looking into the Light.

betamax3000 said...

The Significance of his Backpack is That He Carries Weight Upon His Shoulders of His Own Choosing. Can He Not Be Free of the Need to Have Possessions With Him Everywhere He Goes? Inside this Backpack is there Items of Comfort? Of Utility? Of Shame? We Can Only Reflect on Our Own Individual Backpacks.

mariner said...

betamax3000,

One Significant Step Closer to Lesbian Hot Dog Stands.

Hot buns with no weiners?

betamax3000 said...

Notice That He is Facing in the General Direction of Flat, Gray, Oppressive Cement, and Not the Verdant Life of the Trees Just Slightly to His Right. In the Flat Two-Dimensional Plane of the Photo the Cement Overhang of the Building's Entrance Stands Poised Above Him, Ready to Come Down With All of its Monolithic Force Like a Giant Stamping Press. The Trees, on the Other Hand, Catch the Sunlight.

betamax3000 said...

mariner said...

betamax3000,

One Significant Step Closer to Lesbian Hot Dog Stands.

Hot buns with no weiners?


Remembrance of an Old Riff:

http://althouse.blogspot.com/2013/02/with-gov-scott-walker-hinting-that-he.html

betamax3000 said...

Meanwhile the Cartoon Character on the Sign Mocks His Conflict: x X!! it says !! x. Is This A Machine? A Robot? An Alien? Is the Purpose of the Light Pastel Color to Gently Entice Those into the Blackness behind it? The Crossroads May Indeed Be Occurring Right Before the Abyss.

betamax3000 said...

The Shadow of the Sign Reaches Out and Almost -- But Not Quite -- Touches the Conflicted Man's feet. His Time to Decide is Running Out Quickly.

betamax3000 said...

Or Am I Just Making More Mountains out of Mashed Potatoes? The Line is So Thin.

betamax3000 said...

Subconsciously or Not, He Has Already Made an Important Decision this Day: He is Not Wearing Short Pants. He Realizes He is on The Cusp of Something Important. He Will Not Be Casual With His Decision.

betamax3000 said...

Notice the Wheel and Hitch of the Hot & Steamy Buns Stand: it is Pointed to Take Him in the Direction Opposite of Where He is Facing. The Signs Are Everywhere.

betamax3000 said...

If you Look Closely You Can See On the Steps Below the St, Paul Banner People are Sitting, Conversing. Have They Made their Decision? In the Photo Their Size Makes Them Appear Irrelevant, but they Are an Integral Part of the Picture: Being that they are Positioned in Front of Where Our Conflicted Man is Standing, do They Make Choosing that Direction More Open, or More Off-Putting?

betamax3000 said...

Through Such Examination I Believe I Better Understand the Significance of Ann Choosing This Particular Photograph.

Ann Althouse said...

Sorry about needing to restrict the comments, at least for a while.

Meade said...

from Michelle Dulack Thomson:

YoungHegelian,

Well, any opera in which the heroine sings an aria called "When I am laid" is just asking for it.

Oddly enough, the PBO players didn't do anything bawdy with that one. IIRC, it ran:

When I am late, am late for work,
May my boss create
No trouble, no trouble for the rest!
Remember me! Remember me!
But, ah, forget I'm late.


They had fun with the Sailor's Song, though:

Get away from me, sailor, get away!
You hanker for staying,
But a ride for you I'll gladly be paying;
Just a boozy short heave and you'll be out the door,
And silence my yawning at all of your fawning
Tho' never intending to be such a bore.


The OJ Simpson trial was going on at the time, so "Pursue thy conquest, Love" became "Re-use thy bloody glove."

Some of those PBO violinists aren't safe to let alone even for an hour. Once they were on a flight to an LA run-out, playing an early Romantic program, and there was nothing to write on but barf bags. The result: Mendelssohn's Symphony No. 4, "The Emesis." I'd best leave the words to the imagination.