When the ranting and sermonizing start weighing us down, we turn to these bite-sized morsels of bemusement.
Enjoy. (And do visit our previous installment of Suicide Snacks.)
This party is strictly BYOA. (Bring Your Own Apple of Death.)
Octopus ice cream is merely the latest mystifying emission from Planet Suicidefood. We would have assumed any self-respecting octopus would be affronted at the very existence of such a product. Oh, now we see. Self-respecting.
Smoker's or Stinker's BBQ Pit? We can't help but see the wavering stink lines, and the (approximate) nose-holding "P-U" gesture.
The steer is dead. The elements have stripped away every scrap of flesh. The sun has bleached the skull clean. And still! Still the poor creature wants to participate in the institution dedicated to its destruction. See the steer snort! Death is not powerful enough—not hardly—to quell an animal's desire to be destroyed.