Archive for the Kuisine Category

Cheesy Creation Mongers

Posted in Comedy, Kuisine on January 29, 2013 by klogtheblog

A recent human interest story about creative cheese descriptions inspired us to post some fun blurbs culled from our local cheese-mongers. Here is the crème de la cheese!cheese

Cramulac Fontina is to supermarket Fontina as the patient scraping of a time-scalloped whetstone against a sturdy sword is to the intermittent application of a paper-backed emery board to a cracked Lee nail – a false nail applied to a hand which is surely to be hacked from its owner’s limb by that battle-tested blade.  Gorgeous melting cheese.

Gazing upon the vegetable ash that covers this deceptively small lump of GoatLord chevre is to invite madness.  One’s sanity follows one’s gaze into the barren moonscape of greys and deep blues until one is immersed in an inky nothingness that consumes all consciousness.  Is it possible to be insane without anything that can be reasonably called a mind?  But “reasonably” has no place here – you are singing forth unknown colors in the mad chorus of Yog Sothoth – Ia!  Ia!

Due to its quick aging process and use of raw, unpasturized milk, Camembert de Normandie is illegal in the United States. This explains the rather extreme price of this smuggled dairy, and why it is served in glass vials. This cheese is buttery and spreadable, unless, as is the case here, it is served in dried out nugget forms. We recommend that you light this cheese in a glass pipe and smoke it, inhaling its rich, almost mushroomy goodness.

Joy was always a bastard to me.  I took his feet and strung them on a tree.  He crawled at me foaming curses until I pinned him to the dirt with my spear and let the dogs work his back down to the bone.  We built our campfire on his corpse and roasted his goats over his sooty skull.  We drank his mead and ate his trout all under the light of his flaming long-house.  As we rode off the burning thatch drifted into his fields of rye and set them alight.  His children cried out for us to take them with us, but we did not turn back.  Nor did I let the men have their way with them, though.  There is a code we must follow.  But enough of that – this is some tasty cheese!

For the love of God, don’t eat this. It’s rotten milk, curdled and laced with mold. Why would you even consider eating this? Cheese is the greatest hoax in the history of cuisine. That “sharpness” you’re tasting? It’s your auto-immune system spitting acid on a hostile poison. Sure, if it got you high, or drunk, it might be worth chewing down some of this nasty gunk, but all this refuse does is make you fat. Somewhere along the way the whole thing got out of hand, enough people got hoodwinked that now everyone’s afraid to admit that the emperor has no clothes, and that the “food” you’re smearing all over your crackers is nothing but decomposed garbage. Don’t be fooled! Of course, if you won’t listen to the obvious truth, you could do worse than this Taleggio from Lombardy.

–Steve Kilian

–Dan Kilian

What The Cunt Should I Make For Dinner?

The First Insomniac



Posted in Art, Kuisine on December 19, 2012 by klogtheblog

piglove–Jake Gouveneur

Editor’s note: WHO is that loving the pig? Is it a regular contributor to the KLOG?

This is Jake’s first contribution to the KLOG. Welcome Jake!

Steve’s Wardrobe Choice

Attention Ladies:

Sugar and Berries

Posted in Comedy, Fiction, Kuisine on April 9, 2012 by klogtheblog

The surviving crewmen of The Margaret were lying face-down on the deck. They’d been boarded by The Guppie, now bobbing along starboard, strangely peaceful now that the smoke and clang of battle had ended. They’d been badly beaten, decimated, and surrendered to their fate.

The pirates laid planks of wood across the boats. First came a mop-up crew to kill the remaining wounded. After that some gathered crates of the cargo, mostly berries and sugars from the island. Then they rolled a large heavy block of wood made from several crude logs bound together. Crewmembers of The Margaret exchanged puzzled glances.

Then came the man who could only be the infamous Captain Horatio Magellan. Standing over six feet tall, he strode across the ships, resplendent in his blue naval uniform, still immaculate so many years from his days in the British navy. His face was as weather-beaten and cracked as any driftwood, his white walrus mustache standing out like ice against his sun-browned skin.

“Who is the Captain?”

One of the crewmen tilted his head upwards. “The Captain was killed. I’m Nathanial Hollander, first mate.”

“You will work as slaves for us?”


“Then hoist the block!”

As pirates held sabers to his neck to keep him from struggling, several others lifted the great wooden block over his body, and then gently laid it down on his flattened body.

“Oof!” moaned Hollander.

“Haul the anchor chain!”

Magellan’s crew drew up the anchor, but rather than winding the chain on its giant spool, they dragged the loose links and laid them across the heavy block. Hollander wheezed as the pressure weighed down upon him.

Magellan smiled a mirthless smile. “One less slave then. I prefer to do business with berries and sugar! These islands and your ships provide rich cargos! I shall be known for brown sugar and berries. I shall have to add these items to my coat of arms!”

Hollander gasped, barely able to spit the words, “Men like you aren’t known for their plunder, they’re know for their crimes!”

Magellan smiled wider and angrier. “Sugar and berries! Throw a cask of each on our good first mate, shall we lads?”

His men lifted barrels of their new loot on the block, and one clownish one did a jig, as Hollander’s lungs collapsed, and his bones began to snap. Cruel laughter rose on the deck of  The Margaret as the ritual was reenacted, prisoner to prisoner. Most accepted slavery, though some called Magellan hateful names and were crushed under the block. A few of the doomed called Magellan a particular name, and when he heard that name, he made a point of weighting them down more slowly, link by link of the chain.

After the bloody rite was finished, some of the booty was hauled aboard The Guppie, along with the great block. Corpses were tossed into the sea, slaves shoved into the hulls of both ships, and the conquering crew appointed new officers for the captured ships. Then came drinking and song.

As his men jigged and sang, Captain Magellan sat and fumed. The last words of Hollander were ringing in his ears. That and the name he’d heard repeatedly from the other dying sailors. Of course in his bloody career he’d been called many vile things, but the fact that more than one of the prisoners had used the name meant that others were saying it too. He really did want respectability, a coat of arms with sugar and berries. Instead, he was making a name for himself, a legend, based on his signature act of cruelty.

They were calling him “Captain Crunch.”Image

–Dan Kilian

Rejected Baby Shower Activities

Octopus Man #2: The Amazing Man-Spider!

Supermodel To Open Restaurant Chain

Posted in Comedy, Kuisine on November 8, 2011 by klogtheblog

Acknowledging that the widely held belief that many models have ribs removed to enhance their figures is true, supermodel Kate Moss is poised to launch the first in a hoped chain of restaurants called Kate’s Ribs. Patrons will dine on the removed ribs of would-be models, served in one of two styles: bbq or braised. Portions will be small, and diners will be encouraged not to finish everything.

A special feature of the restaurant will be a monthly “taster’s choice” event, where pre-paying customers can visit a web site in advance of their meal and select the model on whose ribs they will dine. Surgery will then be performed, and diners will receive their custom-prepared meal.

Potential patrons are already eating up the idea. “What guy hasn’t wanted to eat a 17 year old,” said John Boshok of Decatur, Illinois. “This makes it convenient, fast, and legal.”

Model and owner Moss concurs. “Our core demographic is a 35-50 year old man who wants a piece of each of these girls. These ribs are just being thrown away. This way the models’ surgeries are paid for, and men can sink their teeth into some fine meat. Everyone wins.”

The first location is slated to open in January of 2012 in Sheboygan, Wisconsin. Future expansions in other metropolitan areas are being planned.

–Carl Lorentzen

Bad Day at McDonald’s

The Rain


Posted in Comedy, Kuisine on November 4, 2011 by klogtheblog

This is a momentous day at the KLOG! We’ve added a new Category, those helpful tags which absolutely none of you use to navigate this blog! Food is the hot new subject of both reality shows and internet hoopla. Cooking is the one thing some computer app won’t soon be able to do for us so that we’ll all be cooking and eating for each other as the only viable economy around. So in light of that, KLOG is proud to present Kuisine!

Our newest installment of Kuisine is Klog’s answer to the award winning recipe agglomeration site What The Fuck Should I Make For Dinner?

The whole deal with WTFSIMFD is randy talk and ready recipes. Well, we can google up some recipes, and we can get a fuckload saltier, so if it’s foul language and recipes you’re looking for, you’re going to love KLOG’s

What The Cunt Should I Make For Dinner?

As I said, it’s a fuckload, (Or should I say Cuntload?) nastier than anything on that other site. Get ready for some language that will make you sick to your hungry hungry stomach!

Coming soon: A category devoted to child-rearing, even though there should be a computer app for that soon. It’ll be called Kildren, and it’s feature will be a brilliant improvement the latest, hottest new children’s book for adults, and it will be called Go The Cunt To Sleep.

–Dan Kilian

Top Trek: A Pan Fiction!

The Tipsy Parson: November 3 2009

What The Cunt Should I Make For Dinner?

Posted in Kuisine on November 4, 2011 by klogtheblog

Well you

could eat

snot mixed

with Jism

and anal

blood, or

why don’t

you try






What The Cunt Should I Make For Dinner?

Posted in Kuisine on November 4, 2011 by klogtheblog

Then why

don’t you


starve to

death, you




Bad Day at McDonald’s

Nother K-Riddle (Easy One For a Monday)