SLUG Monkey’s zzz —
The best music is at Gardener Village Farmer’s Market. We’ll kick your little Lamenite butts. & you know it.
You know that time in junior high when you wrote that love note to that cute girl and put everything you had into it—perfect hearts, cute doilies and your best cursive—and it turned out you put it in the wrong locker and Bruno the Bully saw it and made you the laughingstock of the school and socked you for being such a wiener? That’s what’s happening now. SLUG doesn’t manage music at the Downtown Farmers Market—if that’s what you’re referring to—that’s City Weekly. That being said, we don’t care about your farmers market, the music there or your weird Book of Mormon reference.
I’m writing to inform you of the greatest tragedy to befall Salt Lake since that jerk-ass tornado ripped the roof off of the house that Larry built way back in ’99. In case you are not aware (though I can’t imagine that you wouldn’t be…), The Rose Establishment has decided to discontinue their cheese biscuit. I can say, without exaggeration, that those crumbly, buttery, cheese-infused bastards are the only things that get me through most days, and their untimely death has plunged me into the darkest pit of despair I have ever known. Sure, in the long run, the absence of cheese biscuits in my life may mean that my arteries are full of less cheesy goodness and my heart may be able to function for a slightly longer amount of time, but I ask you this: is a life without cheese biscuits really worth living? I’m beginning to think that it isn’t.
Cheesus The Conqueror
We’re well aware of the Cheesy Biscuit Discontinuation of 2012, as The Rose Establishment is one of our neighbors, and we are also big fans of the flaky, cheddar goodness of their Cheesy Biscuit. However, the fact that you’re re-evaluating the value of your life without this menu item is fucking pathetic, but who are we to judge? If you want to kill yourself due to the lack of cheese biscuits in your world, we can’t blame you. Besides, like you said, eating that “cheesy goodness” everyday would clog your arteries and fucking kill you anyway. Ask your Mom to send us an invite to the funeral—We’ll bake up some homemade cheese biscuits of our own to bring.