missdiane: (Cats someday will getz cheezburger)
So I was driving home from work this afternoon, sitting in a bit of backed up traffic when I grew tired of the same old, same old on the radio. I bumped the scan button until I landed on a classical station which was nice since they were playing a symphony of some sort. Then Hoedown from the Rodeo ballet came on. Oh, you know the song:
But you probably also know in the back of your head that the song is forever associated with "BEEF, IT'S WHAT'S FOR DINNER." If you don't, here's what I'm talking about:


What's even worse for me is that I always end up having a gigglefit because I remember a silly conversation from years ago that [livejournal.com profile] veritasema and I had where she asked me what I was having for dinner and it was one of those nights where I wasn't inspired to cook so my answer was "Toast, it's what's for dinner."

I don't know if it's a good thing or not that my brain went off on a tangent about that and I kept chuckling (and hence kept getting weird looks from the cats) because yeah, toast. Just doesn't have the same umph, the same MANLY MAN feel, the same gravitas as gnawing on that roasted hunk of steer. I mean can you imagine, the circle around the fire and non-meat-eating cowboys with their bits of bread on a stick trying to turn it a nice shade of light brown over the campfire without it falling in and burning to a crisp?

Then cowboys and commercials naturally made me think of this and yeah, done for

I can watch that damned thing about a million times and it'll start me into a tear-filled gigglefit EVERY flippin' time.

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missdiane

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