Tuesday, March 01, 2005

Mustard. I'm a fan. Have been for years. When I'm at Nathan's or Frank 'n Stein, people ask me if I'd like hot dog with my mustard. Brown, yellow, dijon, wasabi, I love mustard in all its forms.

Not right now, though. I just got some spam (mmmmmm... mustard on spam) with the rather odd randomized subject line "want your beauty back mustard," and somehow my trivia-addled brain has married that phrase up with the damn Chili's baby back ribs jingle. It's earworming me something fierce, and even my all-purpose earworm roto-rooter "Yellow Submarine" isn't clearing it out.

Out, out damn mustard!

Posted @ 1:27 PM

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