Where To Buy Junk Food T Shirts

where to buy junk food t shirts
    junk food
  • Food that has low nutritional value, typically produced in the form of packaged snacks needing little or no preparation
  • food that tastes good but is high in calories having little nutritional value
  • Junk food is an informal term applied to some foods which are perceived to have little or no nutritional value, or to products with nutritional value but which also have ingredients considered unhealthy when regularly eaten, or to those considered unhealthy to consume at all.
  • food with high fat and sugar content, without correspondingly high amounts of protein, vitamins, or minerals
    t shirts
  • (T Shirt (album)) T Shirt is a 1976 album by Loudon Wainwright III. Unlike his earlier records, this (and the subsequent 'Final Exam') saw Wainwright adopt a full blown rock band (Slowtrain) - though there are acoustic songs on T-Shirt, including a talking blues.
  • A short-sleeved casual top, generally made of cotton, having the shape of a T when spread out flat
  • (t-shirt) jersey: a close-fitting pullover shirt
  • A T-shirt (T shirt or tee) is a shirt which is pulled on over the head to cover most of a person's torso. A T-shirt is usually buttonless and collarless, with a round neck and short sleeves.
  • bargain: an advantageous purchase; "she got a bargain at the auction"; "the stock was a real buy at that price"
  • obtain by purchase; acquire by means of a financial transaction; "The family purchased a new car"; "The conglomerate acquired a new company"; "She buys for the big department store"
  • bribe: make illegal payments to in exchange for favors or influence; "This judge can be bought"
  • Procure the loyalty and support of (someone) by bribery
  • Obtain in exchange for payment
  • Pay someone to give up an ownership, interest, or share

passages. shopping aracade. paris, france.
passages. shopping aracade. paris, france.
click on "all sizes" above picture to see larger view paris wednesday 22 july a relaxed day. we started out at the street market in our neighborhood. we are always amazed at the variety and quality of the items sold at local markets. strawberries that are not mass produced and have an intense taste and sweet smell to match. fish of all sorts and many different fruits of the sea that you never find at our washington fish markets. and the poultry – no tysons or perdue here. everything is free range raised on family farms and nothing is pre-packaged. you can actually find a coq for your coq a vin. then we stopped into what you find every few block in paris, a “library store.” it sells newspapers and magazines and books and stationary and other paper products and some art supplies and the like. first we bought some postcards for helena that had paris pictures that were draw in the style of children’s book illustrations. then some package tape so we can mail our purchases home. i have been looking for gouache paints – they has several different styles all made in france and at a very reasonable price. a while back we were looking for a set of children’s water colors – impossible to find and what you could find were cheap made in china junk (in toys-r-us). the library store had several inexpensive sets for sale all made in france. it was nice to experience a non-global market buying spree in a family store in our neighborhood. then off to the renovated l’orangerie. when we first saw the impressionist paintings here, years ago, it was a very traditional setting. the paintings were displayed on brocade covered walls in fancy gold frames – and the works were stacked three pictures high. the newly renovated museum is minimalist – it was plain white and it was all about light. while monet’s huge tapestry-like works are the main draw of this museum, most of our attention was drawn to the small impressionist collection. we were delighted with several of maurice utrillo’s paintings that were of our immediate neighborhood – our neighborhood church and even one of our street, rue du mont-cenis. several bright chiam soutine portraits also caught our eye. a new english language movie opened today, “victoria”. we walked over to our favorite cluster of movie theaters on the left bank near the odeon. the french are movie aficionados and theaters are often very crowded so we bought our tickets in advance. feeling in the need for some lunch we walked around and by-passed the crowded and very expensive cafes, such as lipp and dome, in search of something smaller and more reasonable. we found such a cafe near the odeon theater. i had a croque-monsieur served open face on country bread – excellent. and we watch life in paris pass by. paris movie theaters no longer have usherettes who seat you (and you were required to take “that seat”) and you had to tip them for that service, and they no longer have an intermission during which the same usherettes sell bon bons but they still have those plush, thickly cushioned, maroon seats. after the movie we walked down some of the left bank’s small streets to an italian ice cream store where we shared a single scoop of a favorite flavor, after eight, looked at some of the activities around st. michel (while remembering our past adventures at the same location). we then took the metro home. interestingly we noted that at the last train stop (we are at the end of the line) the police walk with a dog checking out each car. the paris police are notable because they are now wearing polo shirts and baseball caps that say “police” in english and are patrolling both on bikes and on roller blades. our food shopping was limited to buying bread for dinner and in a light rain we returned home. for dinner we had two types of pate, cheese, salad and a good red wine, followed by coffee and cake. miles walked today: six. paris thursday 23 july so what are we going to do today? for two people who do not like to take a break during the day, it sometimes seems that we will not have enough to fill the day – but that hasn’t been the case in paris, where something always turns up to make a long day both longer and more interesting. i had the idea to visit a number of paris “les passages.” these covered alley ways or shopping arcades, were designed in the 1800s to protect pedestrians from the rain and the mud from horse drawn carriages. they were originally built grandly with glass roofs and tiled floors. then many were left to decay. today about two dozen remain and some have been restored. they can house anything from quirky specialty shops and trendy boutiques to souvenir shops and also 1800s style brasseries to antique stores and old post card shops. we visited ten passages – it took lots of pre-planning because many are hard to find. one of them is no longer a shopping arcade, but is now an alley way between rows of houses. we asked several men have a coffee at a cafe where it was and o
Modest Mouse
Modest Mouse

Isaac Brock is twenty-nine, charming, smart and successful. He drives a metallic-gray Volvo V70 wagon and lives with his "totally not insane" girlfriend, Katie, and their slightly neurotic eight-month-old mutt, Sloan, in a neat bungalow in a quiet, gentrified Portland, Oregon, neighborhood. He's got a live-in personal assistant, Richard, who runs Brock's errands by day and fetches beers for him by night. He's in negotiations for a lucrative music-publishing deal, and he and Katie are looking to buy a house. Good News for People Who Love Bad News, the latest album by Brock's band, Modest Mouse, has sold 687,000 copies -- more than all three previous Modest Mouse albums combined. And after eleven troubled years on the Pacific Northwest scene -- years scarred by drug abuse, injury, mental illness, alcoholism, occasional homelessness and death -- Modest Mouse have, improbably, become one of the summer's breakthrough bands.

So why, on this starry, seventy-degree June night, does Brock give off the impression that it might all just disintegrate at any moment, that chaos is around the corner? "It's just the way things are -- they're good, they're fucked up, it is what it is," he says, elbows on the bar next to a fresh Pacifico and a shot of Patron at the Bonfire Lounge, a no-frills hangout near his house. It should be noted that we've been drinking since well before sundown, and that the sun will rise again in a little more than three hours. Brock, dressed in dark jeans, a red-checked short-sleeve Levi's shirt and blue Adidas, is built like a Tonka truck -- squat, solid -- and he moves like one, with weight and purpose. The liquor has put him in a carousing mood; he's swinging his arms, hammering the bar and talking loudly to anyone who will listen.

Right now, despite the fact that he's leaving for a European tour in three days, Brock is pleading with the Bonfire's co-owner, Dimetri, that he needs a job. He first inquires about a position as "the drink drinker, steward of the alcohol" then moves on to chef. (Brock actually is an excellent, inventive cook, his girlfriend and others confirm.) "I could cook you your own dick and it would be so good you'd eat it," he shouts. "Yeah!" No reaction. "Oh, no, wait, that was not really a good sell," he says. "Kind of icky." Pause. "Could we get back to me being a good cook?"

"What do you like cooking?" asks Dimetri.

"What's in the fridge?"

Things devolve from there, as does my ability to take notes. I mark down that Brock eventually switches from tequila to vodka ("Wrong decision," he admits later), and that his two companions -- Benjamin Weikel, who plays drums on the new Modest Mouse album, and Joe Plummer, the band's percussionist on loan from The Black Heart Procession, one of Brock's favorite bands -- disappear at some point. By that time, Brock has already made new friends at the bar.

"How many political idealists does it take to screw in a light bulb?" he asks one of them.

How many?

"None. Political idealists can't change shit."

Brock gives himself a big laugh for that one, and then the jokes get worse. In the middle of one that somehow involves his mustache, olives and "British ladies," he seems to realize that he's lost his audience -- and maybe his grip. So he improvises an ending: "And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how I invented bullshit!" he shouts, convincingly. Two guys at the bar halfheartedly clap.

Brock takes a bow. "You're welcome, world," he says. "You're welcome."

The bartender interrupts: "Dude, go home."

Two years ago, when he began work on Good News, Brock was heavily depressed, with too much time on his hands. He was living in a small house owned by his stepfather in rural Cottage Grove, Oregon -- "the covered-bridge capital of Oregon" -- trying to make sense of the death of two friends: Chris Takino, the owner of Mouse's first label, Up Records, who died of leukemia, and a woman he prefers not to talk about. "They were both young," he says. "It wasn't drugs. It made no sense."

One night he was working alone in the studio and things got out of hand. "I was drinking to the point that I wasn't all that handy," he says. "I don't know what I was fucking with, but the next morning I woke up and my thumb was broken, there was bent metal and shit all over the studio. I was in, like, an extra bed in the house, not my bed. I thought, 'This isn't good.' "

The rest of the band -- drummer Jeremiah Green, bassist Eric Judy and guitar player Dann Gallucci -- were living in Seattle, so Brock suggested renting a house in Portland -- a midway point -- to work on the album. Green, also a heavy drinker and depressive, was suffering from what Brock calls "lazy psychiatry," taking large dos

where to buy junk food t shirts