Something to Chew On

Monte and I had lunch together recently. The steak in my salad was super tough and I had to keep giving up on the pieces that my teeth could not get through.

Monte was too busy devouring his fried chicken to notice my meat struggles.

Until he did.

He commented on the grossness of the "masticated meat" I piled up near my plate.

Who says masticated?

It has a super inappropriate vibe to it 

for a word that simply means chewing.

Monte said it would make a great band name.

Would you wait in line to go see Masticated Meat on a Friday night?

He reminded me of a band bus we saw outside the venue where our friend got married many years ago.

The band name printed in big letters on the side of the bus was Dilated Peoples.

Can you imagine Masticated Meat opening up for Dilated Peoples?

Monte could.

And he'd go.

Mainly for the t-shirt.

We named other bands we remembered from living in Atlanta:

Betty's Not a Vitamin

and Kathleen Turner Overdrive.

We never saw either one in concert 

but appreciated their creative effort 

when selecting a name.

It made me think of all the memorable names of nail polish colors:

I'm Not Just a Waitress.

My Chihuahua Bites.

Aphrodite's Pink Nightie.

I wondered out loud if I'd every select Masticated Meat for a nice brown Fall color for my toes.

Nope.

Not a chance.