Heaton Likes the Buffet at Second Choice Two-NamesBy
I always thought a neat job to have would be a food and beer writer. I could have my own show, TC Buffet Tour or TC Hops Travels. I would travel the globe sampling different beers. Even sampling the ones from Pakistan made from Yak piss. You never know how good it is until you try it. I would jet off to far away places going through the local buffet lines. In Egypt I would circle the table munching on Camel Balls and Oxen Tongue. Of course any buffet line would include a trip through the desserts.
It is a job, especially the dessert part, that would be a natural fit for Meg Heaton. After reading the letters to the editor this week and what Ontheborderline writers have discovered I am not sure she has any abilities as a reporter at all. Two letters point out how she couldn’t tastes the truth even if it was served to her on a silver platter. Her taste buds only know the flavors of the crap served up at Second Choice Two-Names liars buffet (formerly known as Eggbraatens). How can she write about a yummy beef stroganoff when she has only eaten the Chocolate creamed fill turds served daily at Second Choice Two-Names. Round and round Heaton goes around the buffet line getting seconds of Second Choice Two-Names sampler plate filled with figs of appraisal felons, dog track donuts, quail intestines fried in quality education lard, Hoffman Head Cheese, and boiled bullshit. Yummo exclaims Meg Heaton.
Harriet Christianson, obviously an avid reader of Heaton, piped in this week with a letter to the editor. Harriet has eaten so much crap at Second Choice Two-Names that you can’t tell if her brain is in her head or her butt. She thinks letters and stories based on lies are positive. Harriet you can call it a steak but it still taste like shit. Why don’t you try thinking with the part of the body where the food enters instead of where it exits.
By the way I loved how the HSO titled Sandy Gehrke’s letter last week, “Gehrke Disputes Facts”. No she didn’t dispute any facts. She disputed a pack of lies. Of course Heaton and Stohlberg wouldn’t know the difference between grilled horse poop and a bratwurst.
I would rather drink beer in Pakistan than rely on Stohlberg and Heaton to tell the truth. At least in Pakistan I know what I am tasting.