november butt fest: outback steakhouse

hark, i hear the cannons roar. is it an angel approaching?

nope. even better. it's outback night!



by the time i arrived at the outback everyone was already deep in diggery doo. that is, people were drunk, and claire, for some reason, was wispering the word "gestalt" into everyone's ears.

also, i was told that we had to sit in the sinners section (hence the red hue in these pictures).


josh is pretending to be an adult and claire is hiccuping like it's her job (her real job is selling plungers to homeless people). josh really likes the outback and told every one to be on their best behavior because this is a restaurant he would like to return to. this makes sense because each and every time we go out for a butt fest we make asses out of ourselves and are asked to never return again. thanks for the heads-up josh.

claire was really hiccuping and trying as she could to rid herself of this sinful disorder by eating sugar packets and holding her breath. however, she could not rid herself of this spasmatic pox, and as such, i told her of this old wives tale which goes something like this (i'm paraphrasing, obviously): "to defeat the hiccup's curse, simply state a bible verse." then josh was like, "no, no, no. to get rid of the hiccups, you need to sleep with an outback waiter. " the table confirmed that this was the only way to get the job done and have a nice family meal.

i think claire misheard josh because she went into the back room of the steakhouse, brought out the janitor's supplies and began sweeping up around our table.



despite claire's affliction, i was happy the outback dream was finally coming true.



we ordered a bloomin' onion, as a matter of habit. but, instead of the onion proper, the foreign-born waitress, who most likely misheard us when we placed the order, served us one of those face-huggers from the alien movies. this is exactly what the face-hugger looked like when it was brought to our table. man was it good!



this was my salad, and as your can tell, it was the size of a wagon wheel.



we were all ravenous and tore into the bread like it was free sex with your best friend's sister.



josh got the bird flu special with a side of buttered wuss



i got the rockhampton ribeye with a hacky sack



everybody get out, i need to poop! NOW!



this is doodle talking like a british slag. she's saying, "hand release for 5P."



this is josh pretending to do math. what he is actually cogitating about is whether indeed batman was a scientist.



the bill was eleventy billion dollars...



when it was time to leave claire wanted to stay behind and get the number for the broom she swept with.



since poor joshy came down with the bird flu he didn't eat his roasted wuss dish. nevertheless, on a nice mouth feel scale of 1-10, i would give this night a 7.



happy november butt fest guys!