Frog Applause by Teresa Burritt for December 08, 2018

Around here, when someone goes full potato, we launch them into orbit. Some of that space debris up there is just our Spudniks. On re-entry, they become fried full potatoes.

A chip was born the other day…he came in a natural way….

I blame internet streaming.

ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡɴ ʜɪsᴛᴏʀɪᴄᴀʟ ғᴀᴄᴛ: Brother Eustace is the namesake of the Eustachian tube.

All the small fry.

Are those all haloes above their heads? I’d be surprised if it were that crowded in heaven.

This one APPEALS to me. (Why can’t I resist doing this?)

I’d call an tUber and get my starchy framma-zamma out of there.

Potato is as potato does.

Brother Eustace plans to go to the furniture store in search of a new couch..

Never go full potato.

Looks like a regular bangers and mash party. No thanks.

On the other hand, when this happens, it’s best to get loaded. Lets see; butter, check; sour cream, check; bacon bits, check; cheese, check; chives, check.

Let’s call the whole thing off.

Sometimes I go Full Potato (typically, Sunday dinner). Other times, I simplify and open a bag of potato chips (some of you FOREIGNERS call them “crisps”). Starchy tubers, one way or another! We are admonished to blame it all on Brother Eustace’s bald pate….

Wow, Heaven must be a BIG place!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HMX5om0hKWc