Penguins and Pico

¿Olé?

Because when I think of tacos, I totally think of penguins.

Pigporter Andrea sent this picture in from Vancouver, Washington. The reviews at http://www.yelp.com/biz/tacos-n-cream-vancouver sing the praises of this food truck, so now I can’t wait to try a taco (or three–I’m not shy) when I go out to Washington State this summer. Apparently the “cream” in the name refers to the food truck’s homemade ice cream, which as far as I can tell is not vegan, but I’m sure Andrea would be happy to eat some of it for me and tell me how it is. She’s so selfish–I mean, selfless–like that.

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Beefy King

What does a vegan do on her way to the Central Florida Veg Fest? Stop and take a picture of this stunning sign, of course.

Because "Lord Lardmore" just didn't sound right.

Because “Lord Lardmore” just didn’t sound right.

 

Beefy King serves steamed sandwiches. It’s located off North Bumby Avenue in Orlando, Florida, right near Orlando Festival Park and across the street from another place that I’ll be posting about soon. The more I look at this sign, the more I love it. I think my favorite part is the breath/steam/anger coming out of his nostrils.

 

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Daytona Pig Stand

Y’ALL. I can’t EVEN. Words escape me.

DaytonaPigStand6IT’S A GIANT BBQ ROASTER THING.

DaytonaPigStand5ON WHEELS.

DaytonaPigStand1And a scary-looking hog. ON A HOG.

I stopped at Daytona Pig Stand (“Home of the Pork Chopper”!) to take these pics on my way back from Orlando, where I went to the Central Florida Veg Fest. Go ahead and laugh: you’ll feel better. (I had a great time, by the way–I got to snuggle the world’s cutest, softest, cuddliest bunny from the Gainesville Rabbit Rescue, eat some great vegan food, and meet some other great animal rescue, humanitarian, and veg organizations.)

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Bub-Ba-Who?

This sign doesn’t make me laugh like others do. It doesn’t make me rail about how weird it is to use pigs to advertise roasted pig meat. It doesn’t even appeal to me aesthetically. Mostly, it just makes me shake my head.

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The sign, which is for Bub-Ba-Q in Jasper, Georgia, seems determined to reinforce stereotypes about Southerners. Overalls? Check. Smoking? Check. Dopey expression and slacker posture? Check. Someone named Bubba? Check.

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Though the sign isn’t that notable, apparently the food is, if the trailer can be trusted to tell the truth.

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For more information about Bub-Ba-Q, check out their website!

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Swineless Sunday: I’ll Bring the Cream Cheese!

Andrea sent the pics of this carb-loaded character from St. Pete Bagel Co. in St. Petersburg, FL.

Grains are good!

Grains are good!

 

And inside:

Give me the grains!

Give me the grains!

 

Finally, a joke to end your weekend. What do vegetarian zombies eat? Graaaaaains!

 

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In a Crabby Mood

I have a hard time getting back into my regular life after a vacation, even a short weekend one. Everything feels kind of topsy turvy. So I’ve been crabby the last couple of days since my return from Folly Beach. I have a feeling this guy would understand.

You spin me right round, baby.

You spin me right round, baby.

 

This sign is at the James Island Charleston Crab House. And yes, it’s upside down. According to the restaurant’s website, it’s due to the restaurant’s appearance on a show called “Flip This House” in 2006. The crab theme doesn’t stop here, of course.

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This is painted on the front side of the building, near the entrance. I’ve never seen a crab with teeth. I can’t decide if his are vampire-inspired or if they’re supposed to be buck teeth, like this guy from a previous post.

Over the entrance…

Welcome to my crabby lair.

Welcome to my crabby lair.

 

And at the entrance…

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The door mat is where I first realized that Crabby McCrabbersons has SHOES on his bottom claws. The ocean floor can get rough on a crab’s delicate shell, you know.
The restaurant’s plants look a bit overgrown, but rest assured that it’s still in business and waiting to reward those who are able to find it–it’s tucked back off two of the main roads, behind some offices and townhomes. Trying to get there may make you a little crabby, but the sight of this toothy crustacean should cheer you up.

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Mooooooving Monday

I had a trip to Folly Beach, South Carolina planned for several months now–a girls’ weekend with some high school friends I hadn’t seen in years! When I know that I’m going to be traveling, I do a bit of internet research to see what fun places might be there for me to visit and photograph for this blog. There are always surprise discoveries, though, and today’s sign is one of them.

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This is the Coburg cow. Coburg was a dairy in the Charleston area, and even though it’s been bought by Borden in the last few years, the cow remains. This specific sign has been around since 1959. (You can read more about it here.)

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The round platform that the cow and chocolate  milk bottle are on turns slowly. The cow’s colors and the dairy product alongside her change with the seasons: green and red for the winter holidays and a carton of eggnog; some sort of costume for Halloween; and an Easter bonnet and dress in the spring.

Unlike the Mayfield cow, whose name is Bessie, the Cobug cow doesn’t have a name–or at least not one that Google could turn up. What would you name her? Tell us in the comments!

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Come Together

In these trying political times, it’s a good idea to take a step back and embrace what we have in common: we are AMERICANS. And what, I ask you, is more American than a rooster wearing a cowboy hat?

Chicks dig me.

Chicks dig me.

Don’t believe me? Just check out where I spotted this fellow in Warner Robins, GA.

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That’s right. The AMERICAN Deli. Told ya.

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Pig-a-Poole-ooza: The Thrilling Conclusion!

This is it, folks. The fourth and final installment in the Poole’s BBQ saga. You may recall from the second post about this quirky place in East Ellijay, GA, that I promised the design on the top of the Pig-Moby-Il would become clearer. Here’s a close-up, for a refresher.

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It reads “Col. Poole’s Hill-of-Fame,” and the painting on the side of the pig bump looks like a hill with pigs on it. To what are the words and picture referring? Oh, I’m so glad you asked!

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Remember those small, pig-shaped signs from the previous post? Yep, they’re here too. All together in one giant pig shape on a hill at the back of Poole’s property. This, my pig-loving pals, is the Hill-of-Fame.

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You can see in this picture of the pig’s tail end that they’ve run out of space in the pig shape to put pig cards and are now placing them on fence-type structures and light poles. The Hill-of-Fame is around 50 yards wide, according to Husband, who is much better at estimating this sort of thing than I am.

Seeing Poole’s in person is an experience I recommend if you’re up in the Blue Ridge Mtns. in Georgia. Photos simply can’t do it justice. If you do visit and you eat while you’re there, let me know: I’d love to know how the food is at the Taj-Ma-Hog! (Yes, that’s what the restaurant building is called. No, I didn’t make that one up. Seriously, folks–I’m creative, but I couldn’t make any of this stuff up.)

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Pig-a-Poole-ooza Part 3

Meet Porky.

Hi.

Hi.

I didn’t choose that name for him. It’s really his name. See?

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 Porky is Poole’s Bar-B-Q resident mechanical pig. He hangs out near the door, atop the pig-stamped concrete floor, greeting customers and bidding them farewell until next time. I have no idea if he actually works anymore–for some reason Husband wasn’t keen on trying it out.

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You may have noticed these colored pigs in the previous post. They are all over the property outside the restaurant.

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No, really. They are.

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I don’t know what one must to do get one’s name on a colored pig: we didn’t go in and talk to anyone. Poole’s was our sixth bbq stop of the day, and by that point even I was a little tired . I’d love to interview Colonel Poole some day. (He’s a Kentucky Colonel, which–for you poor souls who don’t know what that means because you haven’t been blessed by living in the Bluegrass state–is a designation granted by the governor of Kentucky.)

All of this and we’re still not done at Poole’s! Come back tomorrow for the final post!

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