All valid questions that I will address, culminating in a photograph of the Food Porn Junkies team covered in butter (slightly salted).
First off, what the hell happened?
The FPJ team needed a sabbatical. I know we hadn’t really accomplished anything, and that the beginning is always the most crucial part of any endeavor, but we’re products of a private, Catholic all-boys’ school that taught us at a very early age that the world would respond favorably to us whining, cajoling, cutting corners, and cheating. None of these things applied to the blog, so we were stumped. We needed some time to step back and reevaluate how to proceed with this bitch up in here.
OK, you went through a few weeks of serious soul-searching, cleansing, blah blah blah. Cry me a fucking river. Now what?We gave considerable thought to what direction the blog should take. We wanted something we’d enjoy writing and that people would enjoy reading. We looked at the current crop of food blogs out there, figuring out what worked, what didn’t, and what was missing. There was a lot of discussion about whether or not to include the use of profanities; I’ll let you figure out who won that fucking argument.
Basically, we decided: We love food, but if we’re honest with ourselves, we were also assholes. Not mean assholes, but assholes as in we’re not going to keep this blog General Patronage. We’ll swear like sailors, or Mel Gibson after a few shots. We will compare food to the various parts of the reproductive system. If we think it tastes like shit, we will say so. On a bad day, we might even describe the shit; texture, taste, smell, consistency.
This is not to say that Food Porn Junkies will be a basher blog. On the contrary, we’re very easily pleased. Give us good, clean, honest food, prepared with fresh ingredients, and we will sing your praises. We will write you odes of praise that will make you blush, and not just because of the racy content. We may be irreverent as anything, but we will ALWAYS respect food that is prepared with respect.
I read what you had to say. Where’s the butter photo?
Lester refused to do it. What a pussy.