MREs—a look inside the pouch!

So, my dad just got back from Nicaragua. (For the record, I kind of wish I could start every story like that.) He was down there shooting footage for a documentary aboard a Naval vessel (or so he claims. With his mild-mannered personality and the amount of wacky travel he does, it wouldn't surprise me if he were actually an International Man of Mystery), and as a present he brought me back...an MRE!

Obviously, for the sake of dorky fannish research science, I had to consume said MRE so I could report back on exactly what they contain and whether or not Rodney was right that they're actually pretty yummy. bmouse was kind enough to join me for this experiment, and to provide a second opinion—I am not necessarily to be trusted as, like Rodney, I also like airline food. So join us as we get as close as we can to the SGA field team experience...and take lots of ridiculous photos and generally behave like dorks. Woo!


( What lurks behind this humble exterior? Find out! )

Two other things, while I am being dorky:

1. Much to my delight, ( this was parked on my street the other day )

2. My dad also smuggled back from Nicaragua a pair of Cuban cigars. He and my brother and I smoked them last night, and it was one of the most pathetic things I have ever had the pleasure of experiencing/witnessing. All three of us couldn't stop hacking and coughing and having to stop and lean over and spit in the grass. OMG WE FAIL. Alternately, smoking cigars only makes you look cool if you are Barney Stinson/Robin Scherbatsky/my grandfather. It doesn't work for us mere mortals.

But MREs pretty much rule.