It’s definitely worth the low-end effort of making it. Good luck!

...and now you see me in my shame. I’ve never been able to get aboard the bagoong train—it’s been anathema to me since childhood. I loves me some patis, but canNOT stand bagoong, which is weird in the way that it’s weird to love brandy, but loathe sangria.

Yup, Sukang Ilocos, or “Ilocano vinegar,” is a dark vinegar made from the molasses left over after sugar cane is refined into sugar. It’s no sweeter than other vinegars, and there’s a distinctive tang to the taste that’s crucial to Ilocano (Northern Filipino) cuisine. Picture rice vinegar with a short, shap blare of…

A comment like yours lightens the load immeasurably. The Struggle is all too real (it’s 2017, and yet sugar cane vinegar’s availability remains limited to Asian markets/specialty stores), but I get by day-to-day, thanks to compassionate souls like yourself.

+1 domestic imported French bliss.

have you ever

Whoa, whoa. Are you sure El DeBarge was heckling you? Because there’s a really good chance that what sounded like heckling coming from his direction was actually the people around him yelping and cursing, their eyes burning from the fat drops of activator juice spraying from DeBarge’s Jheri-Curled locks as he nodded…

Filipino-American here: The “Pacific Islander heritage” part of me bends toward Sriracha sauce, but my “owned by the Spanish for hundreds of years” aspect is magnetically drawn to Tapatio.

Wait, when you say that James Frascatore is an out of control and corrupt officer who has no business being a member of the NYPD, do you mean James Frascatore, the NYPD cop who used excessive force to take down former tennis star James Blake in 2015? That James Frascatore?

El Pollo Campero is all over the place in L.A.— mall food courts, shopping centers, strip malls, etc. I know that it started up in Guatemala (well, I know that after just looking it up, anyways), but it’s pretty much the default “Mexican” fried chicken place out here.

Yeah, screaming and hurling threats at the coach who refused to help you screwjob the athletes that he had personally recruited for your school is a fantastic way to recast your illegal, immoral, and unethical fuckery as a series of legitimate academic decisions.

Ah, the perils of having too high a score in Japanese Weirdness Knowledge on your IRL character sheet. What is learned cannot be unlearned, and if you gaze into the magical girl/tentacle porn, the vending machines full of pre-worn panties also gaze into you...

Whoops. Here’s the clip I meant to send you:

Crap! I had no idea I posted the wrong clip! Here’s Omega/Okada III, like I intended:

HEY-O!

Kenny Omega is no joke. He’s very arguably the best in the business today.

When the woman Green was chasing saw there were kids in the van, she said she wouldn’t get inside because Green was going to hit it with his car, the report said.

Welcome to the club! The Bullet Club, that is.