Mmmm, ribs!

Despite the fact that this summer has been very un-summery, I am busting out the summery image and NOTHING spells summer more than RIBS. Now, I am NOT a fan of ribs. Not at all. There is something very unappealing about gnawing meat off the bone. I feel the same way about 'wings' and drumsticks and what have you.

Yet, something struck me about the following image and I felt compelled to put it here:



Could it be, oh, I DON'T KNOW, the fact that this man has clearly rolled out of bed and decided to fire up the grill and have him some RIBS for breakfast? Not a fried egg, not a piece of toast, not even something more 'sinful' like a doughnut, but no: A WHOLE MOTHERFUCKING RACK OF RIBS.

Is it possible that this schlub has somehow (in the time not consumed by sucking on RIBS) invented a time machine, travelled back to when dinosaurs roamed the earth, and done some serious rib harvesting?



Is there seriously anything much worse than eating ribs in your bathrobe? Bathrobes are a bit gross to begin with, then you throw some honey-mustard maple wasabi ketchup brown sugar malt wheatberry barbecue sauce into the mix; combine with the fact that this guy CLEARLY is going to be one of those guys who refuses the RIB BIB (you can see it in his eyes and in the fucking insane oven mitt) and, well, you do the math(s). Do I have your attention? Good, because this is important:





True, it was a low blow putting Randy Quaid in there, but it could be a whole lot worse:




GAK! How much does this spell "weekend staff retreat that 'somehow' turned into a full-blown orgy"? Mm hmm, I thought so. Monday's gonna be reeeeaaaaallllly awkward.