Mo's, again

With Gorski and Jay hard at work back at the Hermit Crab, Bini and I ventured into civilization to run some errands, read: buy axes. (No, your eyes aren't deceiving you, Chuck Bini is indeed on the scene. Seems the farm he was working on convinced him to stick around an extra week to help prepare the goats and sheep for market. If you know anything about our agrarian friend you know he can't turn down the chance to satisfy his blood lust with a good backstrapping.)

Neither Jay or Bini were at Mo's last week when Gorski and I braved the elements so we decided to meet for a late lunch. Kevin the Upselling Waiter talked Bini and me into a plate of oysters while we waited, though we didn't need much pushing. Later he convinced us all a basket of fries was a much better option than a puny side order. As we finished lunch he inquired about dessert, an endeavor I wasn't prepared to undertake until my chowder-addled brain heard Peanut Butter Snickers pie. Turns out they a peanut butter pie AND a Snickers pie, but K.U.W. didn't earn his nickname by being complacent. It was his brilliant idea to de-crust the peanut butter pie, place said crust on a plate, top with the Snickers pie, slap the crustless PB pie on top of that, and dump chocolate sauce, caramel and whip cream over the whole ungodly concotion, producing the picture that gave you Diabetes two posts ago.

Between the Tillamook factory on Monday and this gut-busting fiasco, my intestines will most likely withold lactase for the rest of the year.