You know, I just give up. I loved Jez, been here for years, admired many a writer and the awesome folks who comment here, but. I imagine this is ‘newsworthy’ but after all that has happened in the past week, could you guys have not concentrated on actual, you know, ‘news’?

Gee, it sounds like you have some serious issues with Danica. I can’t imagine why that might be.

My bad, thought it was PNC Park, but I'm only going by what the 50+ signs around the building I'm a season ticket holder to say

My research indicates five is the best age.

Guacamole becomes guacamole when you add lime and whatever variation of cayenne or other Mexican peppers. The tomatoes, onions and jalapenos are optional. And this might be an unpopular opinion - but guac sans onions and tomatoes is the best guac. Tomatoes and onions just interfere with the delicious and smooth…

Yup. And it’s one of the short cuts that makes no sense, since you can make the real deal for cheaper with hardly any more effort. Red onion, tomato, cilantro are cheaper than a jar of shitty el paso salsa, and better.

So she sometimes agrees and sometimes disagrees, and that makes her amazing? Wouldn’t that be true of 99% of the population?

No shit. Christ, Seinfeld was up on salsa 20 years ago. Salsa + mashed avocados = quick homemade guac.

This shit started after 9/11. Talk about letting the terrorists win.

I also have lost a day or two of my life in the odd nap/pass out situation. I don’t recall with total certainty what circumstances surrounded the initial pass out, but I do recall waking up at 3am and thinking my clock was reading 3pm (blinds were closed so I had concept of where the sun was in relation to the earth)

But tablets though. When I was getting a family car, it cost thousands of dollars to add on an in-car DVD system. You can get the kids individual tablets for much less then that, and then they can watch what they want instead of fighting over what everyone will watch. And you don’t have to keep track of DVDs.

It warms the cockles of my heart to see chewing with your mouth open come up again in the funbag, two years after I asked it in the old live funbag. SERIOUSLY PEOPLE WHAT THE HELL CHEW WITH YOUR DAMN MOUTHS CLOSED. No faster way to make me terribly uncomfortable and counting the seconds until we’re done eating.

(This actually happened to me once in college during Senior Week. I got up, went to a party, got completely shitfaced by 2 p.m., then passed out in my room. When I woke up, it was 5 a.m. I’ve never been more confused. I basically stole a day from my own life. I don’t recommend it.)

Exactly. I definitely made an aghast face. But, if he ate it, I guess it is his choice to do that to his meat (kind of like I mock my boyfriend for his preference of well-done steak, but will cook it like that for him). My anger is reserved for people like a girl I know, who when we went to a well-known local…

As a person who did my time in the golden arch purgatory, even there people had the gall to specify how they wanted their meat patty cooked. (And no, we didn’t listen.)

The original Henry Ford was known to take potential executive hires out to dinner before signing their employment contract. If the candidate salted and/or peppered his food before tasting it, no deal. That dinner was the last of their relationship with the Ford Motor Company.

Also, big anti-Semite. Like, super-big.

Well, the cook did train and prepare, and in some restaurants, set the menu, so you’re basically saying “Fuck that noise.” Kinda like when parents buy an expensive toy for their kid and the kid plays with the box and never the actual toy. Only, this is with two adults.

I have almost the opposite problem. My husband was raised by a family with abysmal cooking skills. Seriously their food is garbage. So when I do really simple things like add sea salt, red pepper flakes, and lemon juice to kale he’s usually like, “WHOA, Darcy, calm down with all this flavor! It’s like there is…

I’ve been working on improving my cooking skills for the past year. This resulted in a very tearful conversation with my husband, where I had to explain that if I was going to spend 8 hours in the kitchen making ravioli from scratch at his request, he could at least take a fucking bite before drowning it in Sriracha.

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