Someone mentioned this Web site a few months ago, but I wanted to bring it to your attention again:
http://www.lileks.com/institute/gallery.html
It’s part of the lileks.com site, the funniest goddam thing I have seen since I discovered The Onion. I laughed so hard I gave myself the hiccups. Twice.
Enjoy! My favorite is the liver thing that looks like Peter Lorre.
Looking at their “meat! meat! meat!” pictures reminded me of this “experiment” that SofaKing mentioned over in a GQ thread.
OH my stars…thank you, Eve, that is going RIGHT onto the “bookmarks” page!
“Romance and Meat”…<snort, snicker>…Lordy, how I wish that I had a good neighbor to lead me onto the paths of Higher Meat…pass the cooking sherry, please…
I have to go back now that I’m calmer, and learn all about Casseroles. Or “Hot Oozy Stuff in Pans.”
I knew you’d like this, Ike (hey, aren’t you supposed to be at a conference today?).
I have read this site dozens of times, and I just gave myself the hiccups AGAIN re-reading it. I sent a fan letter to the guy who created it, and he’s a real sweetheart—as well as one of the funniest guys ever. Can’t wait for the book version!
Eve, that was so good I should not have visited it at work. I nearly injured myself laughing at the caption:
“In fact, frankfurters are generally agreed to be incapable of assuming glamour unless they are nestled in the cleavage of Grace Kelly.”
Oh my god. Eve, you rock so hard.
I nearly peed upon reading this:
he site is run by a guy named James Lileks at
http://www.lileks.com/
He has many other great pages there including “The Dorcus Menswear Collection” and other very funny material, as well as his writings and photographs. He writes a regular column called “Backfence” for the Minneapolis Star-Tribune at
http://talk.startribune.com/cgi-bin/WebX.cgi?14@@.ee70c95
which should be a regular stop for any discriminating straight doper.
Ahhh, James Lileks. He used to write a column for Aol that was absolutely hilarious. I love his website. I’ve been a somewhat regular visitor for about three years now.
–Tim
God, Eve, are you trying to kill me? I had to stop reading it before I suffered apoplexy! Now I’m just popping back there to print another page for my resolutely un-netted wife, who collects these sorts of cookbooks for bathtime entertainment. Including some from the 500 series.
Have you ever eaten this s**t? My mom made this “ham loaf” once, following a recipe from a book like this. An ingredient was powdered mustard, which can be used for good, but is also used as a medical irritant. Don’t inhale the stuff or you’ll blister your lungs.
Anyway, she puts this stuff that looks literally like vomit, congealed and sliced with parsley (of course), in front of me. I have always been a good eater and rather adventurous, but this was the first and last “wholesome” food that actually made me throw up. The ol’ homeopathic law of signatures–it looked like puke so it made me puke. Then is showed up in my lunch, cooled to room temperature and between two slices of day-old bread. And it does its work a second time.
I pass this data along to mom, expecting it to be the last time she performs this particular torture on me. Six months later she does it–and it does it–again, dinner and lunch. At dinner I cried (“But I thought you said you liked it, dear.”) and by lunch I had wised up enough to throw it out. Committing a sin in the process.
I know she was trying to dress up leftovers and provide us with a varied diet, but sheesh that stuff was nasty.
I’m glad you guys enjoyed this—I was still giggling on my way home last night over the “plate of cat spew” and the Peter Lorre-face steak. I had a brief E-mail correspondence with James Lileks, the only person I have ever written a Web site fan letter to.
I have a great old cookbook which I love simply for its title: “Be Bold with Bananas.” I have taken that as a motto in life. It has hilarious recipes, including very phallic-looking “banana candles,” which I made for a party, and all the guests were afraid to touch 'em (they had disturbing whipped cream on their tips—the bananas, that is, not the guests).
I’m off to dive into this site again, I hope the office will be quiet today so I can whoop with hilarity with impunity . . .
Oh my goodness Eve, I’m dying here. My favourite (so far) is the cross-dressing meat :
I’m not sure I’m going to be hungry at lunchtime…
Eve, thank you so much for providing a link that finally destroys my urge to sustain myself. Not only am I waaay hungover this fine, gray morning but the first things I choose to look at today were these excruciating examples of culinary homicide. Thank you, these are truly classic and must be shared with all!
(I swear my ex actually tried to serve the “rupe ‘n’ heat” once…)
(once)
That Art Frahm section’s a killer as well.
I’m considering using this as a sig line sometime-
“It goes without saying, but there’s celery present.”
That Stinkymeat site is pure genius! I love it! I even ordered a shirt! 
Oh. My. God. I finally had the courage to look at the Stinky Meat site.
Thank you Arnie—losing that last five pounds will be no problem. I may never eat again.
Urgh.
No one can see me right now, but they sure as hell can hear me! I’m trying as hard as I can to stifle my laughter, as there is nothing overly funny about my job. As a result, some strange sounds have been emitted from this area. I hope no one comes over to investigate.
Anyway, thanks for that site! I have tears in my eyes from laughing so hard.
OMG, douglips, I was JUST going to post that same quote. Tears are streaming down my face and I’ve only read 3 of these things so far.
Eve, I LOVE you!
I’m going back for more. I shall return if I can breathe when I’m done.
I’m so glad it’s a hit—I feel as proud as if I’d created it myself! I hope it becomes a Weird Earl . . .
I think after lunch I will dive back in and look at the “Depression Meat” cookbook again.
"Perhaps in the 30s, this was how you broached the subject of a threesome with your dinner guests.
These snacks do not look dramatic, despite the best efforts of shape-combination. Snacks are not required to be dramatic. Once you start to make dramatic snacks, you start worrying whether cleverly carved radishes provide sufficient comic relief. Save the drama for the end of the meal, when everyone’s had a second glass of wine, and is sitting in stunned embarrassment while the Andersons - who’ve each had three glasses - tear into each other over issues of fidelity and money. That’s the stuff of life, the anguish of the human heart; that’s dramatic. These are just crackers, for Chrissakes. "
That, alone, was worth seeing the site. This is classic! Thank you, Eve! 
I howled and howled at the Gallery of Regrettable Food. Ah, Eve, there are no words to describe how much I love you.