Once upon a desperate, college-age Summer, I was a bartender. My main gig was at a seedy dive that I'm pretty sure was a front for Puerta Rican gang activity. The place was always empty but it had been there for years and there was a room my boss (who never gave me his last name and paid me in cash) forbid any of us employees from ever entering. My usual customers, on those rare occasions when I actually had customers, were violent hicks with the worst taste in alcohol imaginable. One of the most commonly requested drinks was the Jaeger Bomb, or as my favorite patron, a West African guy who loved to play pool, called it, a "Jagga Bone". I prefer to call this putrid concoction a "Jagga Bone" because it allows me to imagine a vile creature called a Jagga that lives on a remote island and eats nothing but carrion. That would at least explain why that particular substance tastes so awful. What it doesn't explain is why any human being would want to drink it, unless the Jagga is a real bad-ass.
Omigod! Omigod! Did you see it? Did. You. See. It? Kris won American Idol 2009! I thought for sure that stupid Adam Lambert with his rockstar hair and his rockstar attitude and his rockstar... whatever would take it all home, but then America spoke and it was the GOSPEL TRUTH!
Since Kris won, I can feel the whole country finally giving props to all us small-town Arkansas folk!.. well, I'm not actually from Arkansas. I've never even been there and I totally wouldn't go there unless you, like, paid me a lot or let me meet somebody famous, like KRIS ALLEN! But you know what I'm saying. I mean, in today's slick, cynical world, there's no way the endearing, small-town boy who makes up for his simple upbringing and lack of fancy rockstar sensibilities by singing his little coffee shop heart out would ever win in a national singing competition. At least that's what I thought until they said Kris's name and proved that there's still some good left in this cold, dark world!
Recently, a terminally white couple named Dan and Sara Bell from my second favorite state, the lost chunk of Mars called Texas, found an irregular Cheeto and came to the only conclusion one can expect from a rational mind in that situation: That they had stumbled upon yet another image of the Savior Himself as He appears in popular foodstuffs. The salty snack, just the most recent in a long line of divine edibles dubbed "Cheesus", drew the attentions of the ever-more-illustrious media minds at CNN.