Poor decisions, I make them

There’s a tradition among me and my coworkers of going out to lunch every Friday in advance of our weekend revelry. Well, their weekend revelry. My weekends generally consist of falling asleep in my recliner, driving the family (or assorted individual family members) between Points A and 8b, and trying to attend to as few of the projects on the Puddinette’s Home To-Do List as possible will keeping her placated and still slipping in some nap time.

I know. Totally a thrill-a-minute, right?

Anyway, so we go out to lunch on Fridays, usually to a different joint each week. Today we settled on a place called The Public House, which once appeared on the show Bar Rescue.

Now, when it comes to my lunchtime ordering practices, I typically roll one of two completely opposite ways. Either I listen to the pious angel on my right shoulder and go with some form of “big salad”, or I shun that self-righteous nitwit and opt for something truly horrifying. You know, something with All The Meats and enough cheese to individually raise the gross product of Wisconsin.

Well, the Puddinette’s birthday is coming up, and we’ve got plans for the ritual Dinner Out this weekend to observe it. Figuring I might as well chuck the baby out with the bath water, my left-shoulder devil whispered seductively about throwing caution to the wind since my caloric intake for the next three days was gonna qualify as stupid anyway.

Which is why I ordered something called the “Bah Bah Black Sheep” burger. And yes, it did include All The Meats.  Plus All The Cheese.  Plus a Fried Egg.  Because, duh.

Upon its arrival at the table, my only comprehensible thought amidst the utter panic was, “Mistakes have been made.”

I believe the picture above fairly accurately represents that.

Incidentally, that reprehensible little devil on my shoulder was no longer anywhere to be found. Funny how that works, right?

At any rate, the goal for the day’s post was to offer a little photographic amusement in preparation for the weekend. I know that the look on my face above certainly amuses me. But on the off chance you’re, I dunno, anti-meat or anti-gluttony or even anti-gluttonous-meat* or something, I figured I should maybe offer an alternative.

Luckily, the sky this afternoon was just about as pure and clean as you can get without painting it yourself. So here, enjoy:

What’s that? Clouds not your thing? Fine, here, have a double rainbow.  I caught this at the end of the street when we got home from the Puddinpop’s baseball practice.  Ah, what does it mean, indeed?

I’m choosing to assume it means, Have a great weekend!

So try not to break anything.

Pud’n

*I mean, I don’t see how you could be anti any of those things and not be a communist, but, whatever, different strokes and all that.  I suppose I shouldn’t judge**.
**Shouldn’t being the operative word there, hippie***.
***Just kidding.