Even Hillary's Ceramic Effigy Hates Embryos
This picture blatantly ripped off from Pete's site.
It will also take you there to witness the demonstration video.
I've been meaning to do this for a while now. I am only doing this because I got a sincere belly laugh out of this when I saw it in action--in my own kitchen.
A few weeks ago, I received an email from a guy named Pete, with the subject line: "You must drink a lot." Being fully cognizant that I don't, I knew it had to be in reference to the biting satire I have committed to produce for one and all, free of charge.
I was right, Pete was basically saying that he was a fan of this blog. I noticed this little url tag in the end of his email, and well, I don’t know about you, but I am inclined to see what people are about.
I imagine you may have already seen an ad for the Hillary Clinton Egg Separator, but this was the actual guy responsible for them emailing me. He very graciously sent one to me, and I have to tell you; I have not had so much culinary whooping around my house since I accidentally scalped my knuckle with poultry scissors trying to perform a rope trick for my son.
My three-year-old, Clara, put it this way:
"Mom, mom! He put the egg in her head, and it come out her nose!"
Why am I writing this? because I remember when Rush Limbaugh managed to squeeze dubious immortality out of another similar device called the "Gurgling Cod," by fusing a Ted Kennedy/Mary Jo Kopechne parallel out of it. People went nuts trying to find them, but soon realized that without the on-air context of Limbaugh's show, the joke would be lost on their friends for the most part.
And Ted Kennedy, appalling as he may be, had any hopes of Oval Office ascendancy coincidentally drowned by a suspiciously-youthful campaign volunteer. It’s over for him—and that Liver of his could Bo-Peep him off of life’s stage any minute as well.
But Hillary represents something far more visceral, in terms of timeliness. So it stands to reason that otherwise grotesque culinary pursuits take on the slightly-more interesting task of disrespectful iconography. And What better is there way to see the fine Senator from New York, than to see salmonella expectorating from her nostrils? I can’t think of anything I’d rather see from her, other than to explain how a Kansas one-story landed on her sister.
So, in short, go visit Pete, and maybe he can gin up enough attention to have his product sit amongst the pantheon of the EIB novelty items. It’s perfect for that venue. And Pete’s not a bad guy,either.
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