I learned a valuable lesson with the first steer I sent to slaughter. I should have named him Hamburger and not Snookers.
Most crap grocery stores are full of chubs of ground beef as fatty as 80/20 (though I wouldn't recommend any of them already packaged as chubs). Worse to worse, however, you can grab some good fatty chuck and have them grind it fresh for you (if you call in the morning and show up in the afternoon they can set aside however many pounds of fat you'd like to add to that).
As for the Fage, it might just be because I live just outside the Washington DC metro area that it is so common around here, but even Wal Mart carries it anymore. If you want a case or more most grocery stores would special order it for you even if they don't regularly carry it.
The upstairs neighbors are having sex on a bed right over the living room with really squeaky springs. I'm thinking of leaving a can of WD-40 on their doorstep. Fortunately he's a sprinter.
Back when we were going to college, we were in a semibasement apartment and our bedroom window looked out at the pool. You haven't lived until you've heard (subcontinental) Indians whooping and hollering in the pool at 4 in the morning before your 0730 senior project lab final.... :/
"No fate but what we make"- Sarah Connor, Terminator 2
Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, steak in one hand, chocolate in the other, yelling "Holy F***, What a Ride!"
My Primal Battle Tome