So, it’s *exactly* dementia, and what Pinkham is presenting as a forgone conclusion, is, in fact, totally in dispute.

The double chocolate chip frappuccino story reminds me that it’s time to put Charlie and the Chocolate Factory on my kid’s reading list. The little Veruca Salt-in-training should have read it, too.

So is there a point at which the barrista can point out to his manager that this guy is scamming coffee from them every day? “Hey boss? This had been a pattern for three weeks.” Or does the manager just figure this fits into his allowable loss percentage?

“In my older age, I wonder if I would have been calmer, but fifteen year old me had just been assaulted and was too busy crying and freezing my ass off to care.”

That's okay; It's all good.

I know the differences between the Dutch baby and the pancake. I meant that the closest equivalent to the pancake that Germans have is what Americans call the Dutch baby, the baked pancake, etc. I didn't mean that they are identical.

We have grill presses for those in the stores, and somebody's making them, because the presses haven't gone away or anything in the decade or two that they've been around, but restaurants don't offer them per se. The closest thing to that is the "stuffed French toast" at IHOP, and even it's served in a circle without…

A German equivalent is what we call a Dutch Baby, isn't it? I will not diss a German pancake.

Now I want to go to the new kosher diner down the street just to see if they do this. Because wow.

She already had a Xanax in her purse. Her life's troubles were already knocking on her door.

46-year-old man with severe arthritis in that punching arm. Ryan's son was sitting in the dugout with a bucket full of ice, slapping packs onto the old man's shoulders in between each inning. Ventura picked the wrong geezer.

Very true.

Ah the "He needed killin'" defense. Might work.

Yes, but they happily play along, too. I'm an old fart, and I'm okay.

“Just in time for the Fourth of July, it's the Americano! Blueberry syrup flavors our frozen latte, which is covered with whipped cream and cherry topping. Americano? Say American-yes!"

Warm.

When I was a kid it was incredibly common. Now it's not so much (better ask if the green ice cream is pistachio or mint), but no one would think it is an odd flavor to have available.

... that's called a King cake. And it's not just the baby's head. It's a whole baby.

“Back when we were in college I and a friend went to our local renaissance festival early on the very first day of the season, very much first in line to get in." That first line of your story made me go, "Sssss. Oh no. Nothing's ready or quite right on the first hour of the first day!" I was expecting a disaster, and…

“ I worked the opening shift and since my coffee house was in the middle of a Christian suburb, it was always very busy, especially on Fridays.”