james ; yo you see murds new bird?
dan ; nah fam, what she look like do?
james ; the usual, blond caked with make up and only wears northy
dan ; anything different?
james ; raa she had the thickest lamb rack id ever seen fam
dan ; yo i gotta see this bird now
dan ; nah fam, what she look like do?
james ; the usual, blond caked with make up and only wears northy
dan ; anything different?
james ; raa she had the thickest lamb rack id ever seen fam
dan ; yo i gotta see this bird now
by the_sesame_bagel April 12, 2020
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Freddy: hey want some lamb and tuna fish?
Trey: hell yeah, either that or I'll just piss on my balls
Trey: hell yeah, either that or I'll just piss on my balls
by Dickeyboy394 October 3, 2022
Get the Lamb and tuna fish mug.From the vantage point of a rational human with functioning gustatory papillae, a lamb dinner is the gastronomic equivalent of getting kicked in the testicles (some people find it enjoyable, but I cannot for the life of me understand why).
Imagine, if you will, meat that tastes like it’s been marinated in dirty old sweaters, perfumed with a hint of petting zoo, 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, 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 to honest English, means “sweaty mutton disguised as fine dining”. It is not “rich,” 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, 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, 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, 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 to honest English, means “sweaty mutton disguised as fine dining”. It is not “rich,” 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, 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.
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.
by Volando Con El Viento April 20, 2025
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