The complete culinary compilation of Steve, Don't Eat It! at Sneeze.com. My reading was interrupted by a need for defibrillation - laughed so hard my heart stopped. Volumes 1-3 were all I could take in one sitting. Just looking at the pictures for later volumes makes it apparent that they're a little gross for the squeamish.


One Reply to Punched In The Nose With A Stinky Fist

Russ Wilhelm | November 6, 2007
You're right Steve. I made it to Vol. 5 before I had to stop. I couldn't see through the tears. My ribs hurt. I got light headed from hyper-ventilating. Kind of makes me think that laghter can be harmful.


Web Junkie

Steve West scours the Web searching for interest or absurdity and then shakes his head ruefully when he finds it. Read more »

Mariah and the Subtle Burn

Recent conversation with Brenda (after hearing All I Want for Christmas... again): Me: Mariah Carey beginning with "I don't want a lot for Christmas..." and then revealing she wants "you" is kind of a burn, Brenda: She could mean that she doesn't want a lot of other gifts and only wants her man friend. Go »

And No Need for Anaesthesia

Recent conversation with Brenda: me: I've decided that I'm not going to play that "got your nose" game with our grandkids. Brenda: Oh, really? me: Yeah, I'm going to play "got your appendix" instead. Go »

Weekly Round-up

Best stuff I found this week. Video of the week 1: Snow White/Reservoir Dogs mash-up. My new work hat. Go »

When Fabio Meets Scatological Humor

Mark Longmire hosts an eclectic website. My favorite section is where he re-titles romance novels and photoshops the new title on the cover. Hilarity ensues. Go »

Baby Boomer Blues

I overheard someone of my generation (born in the early 60's) recently say, "Kids today don't even know how to write in cursive," in a negative way. That statement got grumbled agreement from the codgers nearby. I was thinking without saying out loud, "Grandma, you can't even turn on your laptop without getting six viruses and wiring half your retirement money to a Nigerian Prince." Go »

No Clowns On Halloween Allowed At My Door

Or "How Ronald McDonald Kicked My Ass" About ten years ago, shortly before Brenda and I got married, we attended a Halloween party at a friend's house. The primary reason to get together was obviously to dress up like we did when we were little but secondarily to get drunk as a sailor on shore leave. The standard "funny name" cocktails were offered like "sex on the beach" and "southern screw" and "raw sewage". Go »