Woman: Happy Halloween, honey!

Partner: Buuuuut, it’s April.

Woman: Ha ha, I know. This isn’t a Jack O’ Lantern at all. April Fool’s!

Partner: We’re having a baby?

Haha. I’ve NEVER seen a gnome in a computer chair.

Oh shit—that’s a baby.

I’m sorry, what’s happening? 

Monkey business. Maybe Monkey taking care of Business.

Oh shit—get that monkey some Pampers.

Behold, the Countess of Nanaberry Court! All hail!

Oh shit—what the baby is that?

Have I mentioned that some mammals, when under psychological stress, eat their own young?

This Thanksgiving, I’m thankful we’ve moved beyond that and instead resort to dressing our children in ridiculous outfits when the Holidays prove to be “too much.”

Oh shit—that is a baby. You’re so weird, Idaho. Potatoes aren’t even THAT good. Any excuse for Bac-Os, I guess.

I used to like hot dogs back when I played tee ball. Eventually, tee ball games felt like punishment. And eventually, so did eating hot dogs.

Oh shit—that poor baby is suspended inside of a giant hot dog! Social Services! Social Services! And no more tee ball for anyone!

There is NOTHING better than TACO TUESDAY! Hell yes! $2 BUDS, 69 cent TACOS. Let’s get wasted and have diarrhea! 

Can you help me perfect my béchamel? What the heck is katsuobushi? Is geoduck really an adequate replacement for abalone?

Oh shit—that’s a baby chef. Maybe baby chef needs a fresher take on cuisine at Becoolinary.

Welcome to Food Week here at Oh Shit - That’s A Baby!