Meat for my Baby

When I'm hanging out at a bar/pub tossing back a few Liquid Panty Removers, I will be bold enough to say that meat is not the first thing on my mind. No really- the moo-moo kind, not the every loving tube-steak. OK, OK, maybe the I'm-really-drunk-and-need-to-indulge-in-steak-super-nachos-even-though-I'll-regret-it-later meat, but that's not the meat in question. I'm talking about purchasing dollar raffle tickets so you can win a tray of meat to take home and toss in the freezer for dinner tomorrow. While you're drunk at a bar.

I know what you're thinking (unless you're from Minnesota or the UK). Does this shit happen? Why yes, yes it does. It's a mother-fuckin' meat raffle, bitches.

Isn't Food Network educational? If I was in Minnesota tonight I could justify going out to get shit housed under the guise of trying to get some meat for mother's day tomorrow. I bet you I could get some extra dollar bills from The Hubby for it too. The extra great part about it is that if I come back with nothing but a buzz and some glitter on me all I have to say is that I spent all my money on raffle tickets but stupid Maud down the street landed the rack of lamb. I could be hung over for mother's day but it would be acceptable because I was trying to put food on the table for our celebration.



I can just see The Hubby stumbling in late from a night at the bar, "but honey, I got you some ribeye!" in all slurs.


But let's get serious. The fact of the matter is that I'm in the Bay Area, not Minnesota, and if I went somewhere that advertised a Meat Raffle I don't think I'd necessarily get something saran-wrapped to a tray.

Then again, maybe it just wouldn't be on a tray.