It's Rotten

Confession:  I used to have this friend who USED to belong to a Rotary Club, USA that served absolutely hideous meals every Monday which (and not without much coaxing and pleading on my part) my friend photographed with a smart phone and relayed the images to me those afternoons, along with a funny (and often painful) description of the cuisine. 

I was sworn to secrecy, having ALSO begged to be able to use these as a Monday feature on the Chronicles.  Really, something this grotesque should be shared, you know?  Sort of like People of Walmart pictures, only of food.  But no, the only way I'd get the images was if I promised not to publish.  So I kept the secret, looking forward to Mondays like you can't imagine, knowing that no matter how completely rough the week was going at least around 1:30 p.m. I'd have this wonderful, horrible treat in my email to gag and laugh over.

Last week, without warning me, my friend quit Rotary and sent the last photo with a little note jokingly saying that the hope was that we could still be friends. 

Let's just say that I didn't take it well....

And I thought we could still be friends, but here it is, Monday morning and I'm faced with the cold, hard reality that there will be no more Rotary Rot forever.  Forever!  I'm just not sure we CAN remain friends.  Friends don't take friends' reason to get up on Mondays away so coldly and cruelly. 

So this is my therapy session, my way of dealing with the hurt:  I'm going to share some of the Rot with you along with my friend's descriptions. Am I going to be in trouble? Maybe. I can live with that risk.
I'm going to slap a warning label on here, though.
If you have a weak stomach, you'd do well to leave the Chronicles this minute.
If you're on a diet, you may want to print some of these pictures out and put them on your fridge!
Just sayin'...

How many ways can you think of to serve soggy beef fat?  Today we tried it sliced.  Actually, I didn’t try it—I saw it, snapped a quick picture, suppressed my gag reflex (which came on surprisingly strong and fast), and went to the salad bar.  Now I’m wondering how in the world a spinach salad, bowl of soup, and a mound of cottage cheese is going to hold me over until tonight.

It also bears mentioning that the Rotary Board met today at 11, and the agenda is attached.  Note the agenda item to make lunch an optional cost (right now, it’s mandatory part of the dues.  You pay for lunches, whether you come and eat them or not).  I thought it was a great idea—it would save me about $350 a year.  Moose liked it too.  Unfortunately, the rest of the Board nixed it for reasons I can’t explain. Rats.

Most of the time, people puke after they eat.  At the ----------, they prefer if you puke right in the serving trays.  Saves money on gravy…

Nasty, nasty.


I had salad bar. And even that was disgusting. Fortunately, my appetite was ruined, so I’m not hungry.

Dainty “PLEASE NO” Moore stew…
(Auto-correct changed it from "Dinty" to "Dainty", I was told.)

I don’t know what this is. I don’t even know what it was supposed to be. I even asked someone who ate it, and he didn’t know either. No one knows. I had Moose hold it up so you could get a better look at it. If you figure out what it is, let me know.

Actually, don’t.


Even the salad bar was nasty today. The sign said the soup was tomato, but turns out it was actually watered-down spaghetti gone bad. It even had foot-long spaghetti noodles swimming around in it.


Yuck.

…in some kind of red sauce, then cooked in hell’s oven until it is completely stuck to the pan…and served up as Rotary Rot.

*There was no description for this one.  The email title said, "Parts is parts" and the image title was "Foul".

I should say so!

I saved the best for last...

Or maybe it's the worst.

Turns out bacon doesn’t make everything better after all. Take the -------’s World Famous Cat Vomit, for example. Still looked and smelled like cat vomit, regardless of how much raw bacon they stacked on top of it.

Maybe if they’d have cooked the bacon. Yeah…maybe THAT would’ve helped.


Look how many pieces of bacon got picked off and left to fend for themselves in the puddle of greasy yellow stomach bile at the bottom of the pan…


Now THAT’s gross…

Today’s offering was the -------’s very own incinerator-lasagna. The ------- didn’t want to serve obviously burned food—they have a reputation to protect, after all—so they did the noble thing: sprinkled a little more cheese on top of the blackened heap and threw it back in hell’s cauldron. After all, why stop at one scorching if you can have two?? And who’s gonna notice?

* Editor’s note: That mangled, nasty looking piece on the upper left that no one wanted? Yeah—THAT one…?? Well, Moose ate it…


But wait! There’s…



 More!

It’s an unprecedented Rot-ary two-fer!


If it the pot-shot wasn’t enough for you, maybe an pic of the greasy aftermath clinging to a white plate will send your stomach into full convulsions…

This is sort of an appropriate place to end the post, even though I have other images that are dear to my heart.  You can see how my Monday afternoons will be sad and empty.  *sigh*