What's Purple and Lies at the Bottom of the Ocean?

The first joke I remember hearing was one my dad told me when I was roughly four years old, and yes, it was a food joke.

I didn't think it was terribly funny at the time. Actually, I didn't think it was funny at all. Over the years, I've grown to appreciate it slightly more for its dry, surreal humor.

I'll lay it on ya:

Q. What's purple and lies at the bottom of the ocean?

A. Moby Grape.

Killer right? Wait, though. I've got a few more...



Yes, inspired by of a slew of bad news (the economy, war, food recalls, etc. etc.), today's post is dedicated to almost all the stupid food jokes I know.

Fair warning: I ate a lot of Laffy Taffy as a child, and I'm afraid it informed my sense of humor irrevocably.

I'll do the kid-safe ones first and leave the slightly NSFK joke for the end. You can just imagine the little rimshot after the punchlines, or get one here: Ba-dum-CHING!

Q. Why did the mushroom go to the party?
A. He was a fun-guy. (This one might work better aloud.)

Q. Why did the fungi leave the party?
A. There wasn't mush room. (Oh, it's so terrible!)

Q. Why don't lobsters share?
A. They're shellfish.

Larry: Man, times is hard. My cousin just got fired from the orange juice company.
Mo: Oh yeah? Why's that?
Larry: He couldn't concentrate.

Q. Did the grape scream when the elephant stepped on it?
A. No. It just let out a little whine.

Q. Why did the snail paint an "S" on the side of his car?
A. He wanted folks to say, "Hey, look at that S-car go!"

Q. Why did the banana go out with the fig?
A. He couldn't get a date.

Q. What's white, fluffy and loves bananas?
A. A merengue-utan.

Q. Why don't cannibals eat clowns?
A. They taste funny.

Q. What do you call a fish without any eyes?
A. A fsh.

Q. What made the cookie cry?
A. His mother was a wafer so long.

Annd, my favorite slighty NSFK food joke:

There's a batch of muffins baking in the oven.

First Muffin to Second Muffin:
Wow! It's really getting hot in here.

Second Muffin:
Holy shit! A talking muffin!

Know a good one (or a bad one) I've missed? Feel free to contribute your own in the comments. But try to keep it clean. Cupcake has tender ears.

Cheers!

Food Quote Friday: Nigella Lawson

"I think we all live in a world that is so fast-paced, it's threatening and absolutely saturated with change and novelty and insecurity. Therefore, the ritual of cooking and feeding my family and friends, whoever drops in, is what makes me feel that I'm in a universe that is contained."

— Nigella Lawson in escape magazine

Day 11: Rice + Sock = Comfort

This post marks Day 11 of Miss Ginsu's 2007 Advent Calendar. To click into other days and other projects, use the calendar page to navigate.

I'm sure we're all well aware that December can be a taxing month. Weather issues make the commute challenging. People tend to feel a lot of pressure to buy gifts, write out cards and fulfill extra holiday obligations. Less sun means more Seasonal Affective Disorder. Critters that cause colds and flu float around offices, schools and public spaces. Dozens of events, gatherings and errands stuff the calendar. It's a recipe for stress.

If someone you know (maybe you?) is in need of comfort, here's a quick and supremely easy-to-execute tip I picked up from my last roomie: the rice sock.


Rice... It's not just for takeout anymore

Thanks to the miracle of the microwave, you can zap a sock filled with rice, and in mere moments, you have a malleable heating pad that's ready to soothe sore muscles.

Toss it in the freezer for a cold pack that won't freeze your skin. It's a cheap and easy therapy tool for sore necks, shoulders or whatever part of you happens to need some warm (or cold) comfort.

In essence, it's just a 100% cotton sock filled with uncooked grain. Just close up the end with a knot, a few stitches or a pretty ribbon. Voila!

To chill, freeze for 45 minutes or more. To heat, microwave the sock for 30 seconds (in powerful microwaves) to 1 minute (in standard microwaves).

The rice sock molds to the body and holds its temperature for a surprisingly long time. Unlike a cold pack or a bag of frozen peas, it won't sweat and make your skin damp.

It has a pleasant, rice-y scent (no big surprise there), but Wikihow has an involved DIY guide to making them, that includes options for scent add-ins if you'd prefer to smell lavender or lemons.