That girl said she wasn't hungry, but when i showed her my polish dinner she dove in and didn't come up for air until the mustard was gone.
by clevermeats January 29, 2016

meal that can be eaten only after the lunch, that means, in order to have dinner you have to have lunch first
A: Dude, after 5 P.M. it's called dinner.
B: Nope, i had no lunch yet, look it up in the *real* dictionary
B: Nope, i had no lunch yet, look it up in the *real* dictionary
by tvaroh December 19, 2016

by Bouillabaisse February 4, 2018

by Rice head June 3, 2016

Usually a woman (even if there have been some male cases reported) user of dating apps, that prefers collecting first dates, to have as many paid dinners as possible.
"Hey Samantha! Did you plan going out for dinner with Gordon again?"
"Of course not! He paid the bill on the first date, so the second time would be my turn. Therefore next dinner out is with Mortimer".
"you're such a dinner digger!".
"Of course not! He paid the bill on the first date, so the second time would be my turn. Therefore next dinner out is with Mortimer".
"you're such a dinner digger!".
by Barabbaz November 30, 2021

From the vantage point of a rational human with functioning gustatory papillae, the lamb meat in all forms is the gastronomic equivalent of getting kicked in the testicles.
Imagine, if you will, meat that tastes like it’s been marinated in dirty old sweaters, perfumed with a hint of petting zoo after a spring rain, and garnished with the toxic secretions of a cane toad. The consumption of lamb is less a meal and more an elaborate prank gone wrong.
The texture? A true paradox. Somehow it is both sinewy and gelatinous, as though the animal was full of despair and sadness before its untimely demise. And the smell, how in tarnation can it smell that foul? The stench wafts through a home like the ghost of livestock past, clinging to drapes, walls, and assaulting the olfactory senses of every poor soul who is in the vicinity.
Supposed connoisseurs will wax poetic about its “earthy richness” or “rich, robust, and well-balanced flavor” which, when translated from nonsense speak to to honest English, means “sweaty mutton disguised as fine dining”. It is not “delicate,” it is despicable; it is not “robust,” but a belligerent assault on the taste buds.
Lamb should only be served if your guests have wronged you terribly or if you have lost all hope in the potential of food bringing you, or others, joy.
In conclusion, a lamb as a dish is best served NEVER. It is a betrayal of the palate, a disgrace to the kitchen, and a compelling argument for vegetarianism.
Imagine, if you will, meat that tastes like it’s been marinated in dirty old sweaters, perfumed with a hint of petting zoo after a spring rain, and garnished with the toxic secretions of a cane toad. The consumption of lamb is less a meal and more an elaborate prank gone wrong.
The texture? A true paradox. Somehow it is both sinewy and gelatinous, as though the animal was full of despair and sadness before its untimely demise. And the smell, how in tarnation can it smell that foul? The stench wafts through a home like the ghost of livestock past, clinging to drapes, walls, and assaulting the olfactory senses of every poor soul who is in the vicinity.
Supposed connoisseurs will wax poetic about its “earthy richness” or “rich, robust, and well-balanced flavor” which, when translated from nonsense speak to to honest English, means “sweaty mutton disguised as fine dining”. It is not “delicate,” it is despicable; it is not “robust,” but a belligerent assault on the taste buds.
Lamb should only be served if your guests have wronged you terribly or if you have lost all hope in the potential of food bringing you, or others, joy.
In conclusion, a lamb as a dish is best served NEVER. It is a betrayal of the palate, a disgrace to the kitchen, and a compelling argument for vegetarianism.
Jacob: You should come over for dinner tonight.
Patricia: That sounds lovely, what are we having?
Jacob: A lamb dinner, I was thinking a roast leg of lamb.
Patricia: I just threw up in my mouth.
Jacob: Lamb Souvlaki?
Patricia: I would rather starve.
Jacob: Lamb chops?
Patricia: Que distinguida.
Jacob: Lamb kofta?
Patricia: Que feo.
Jacob: Lamb Shank Ragu?
Patricia: Ohhhh, you know what? I just remembered, I am busy tonight, sorry.
-----------------------------------
Fact: There is literally no version of lamb that is not completely disgusting
Patricia: That sounds lovely, what are we having?
Jacob: A lamb dinner, I was thinking a roast leg of lamb.
Patricia: I just threw up in my mouth.
Jacob: Lamb Souvlaki?
Patricia: I would rather starve.
Jacob: Lamb chops?
Patricia: Que distinguida.
Jacob: Lamb kofta?
Patricia: Que feo.
Jacob: Lamb Shank Ragu?
Patricia: Ohhhh, you know what? I just remembered, I am busy tonight, sorry.
-----------------------------------
Fact: There is literally no version of lamb that is not completely disgusting
by Volando Con El Viento April 20, 2025

by soluseity May 24, 2024
