Right? They’re like maracas full of mayonnaise.

I like you.

Pastry chef here. Two possibilities here. Least likely: you coagulated the protein in your eggs chemically, either by having a very acidic base (lots of lemon juice or burnt sugar) or letting straight sugar sit directly on top of eggs for more that a few seconds.

I’ve never seen Game of Thrones, but if it’s not this clip on repeat for six (? is that right?) seasons, I don’t want to.

Storebought corn syrup is p. much always going to be Karo and Karo is just glucose*, not glucose and fructose like HFCS. If you’re sensitive to or otherwise avoid HFCS, but can normally consume sugars without a problem, Karo is fine. Don’t drink it by the bottle, but it’s fine. 

Teenage me was convinced I was qualified to be one of Janet Jackson’s backup dancers in The Velvet Rope era because I knew most of the Together Again choreography and also I was “good with animals” in case they wanted to take any elephants, falcons, or big cats on tour.

I’m #forevergray but in case you do see this, I wanted to say how much I appreciate you didn’t take the Famous Man’s Wife route. Even with the photo rights restriction, you handled it really well. It sure beats that item (from somewhere else in the GMG) that SOLELY described Chelsea Peretti —when talking about a…

White people have their own! It is exactly as bland and horrifying as you’d expect.

Señor Chávez calls a Soul Train line “El funky tunnel” so that is my wedding gift to you.

Oh God help us when my grandfather would find a way to get fresh durian and he’d parade it around the house in a lap of honor, just in case there was a corner of the house that didn’t smell like his beloved Bangkok klongs. I’m sure it’s not the ONLY reason my grandparents slept in separate rooms, but it probably…

It IS really heady, if it’s a ripe melon of a good variety, but then again that’s probably why they’re called muskmelons.

Posts like these make me think of how fortunate I am that —barring a few foods like papaya and durian where the scent triggers my gag reflex beyond any supression— as long as it’s well-prepared, I’m pretty much down for whatever.

I know! It’s the mouthfeel that did me in. It didn’t help that my house only ever got the cheapest, grossest, most stabilizer-filled ice cream on the planet...you know, the type that still held its shape at room temperature and made styrofoam-crunching sounds as you moved your spoon through it. Mmmm...refreshing!

I remember feeling personally betrayed the first time I had boiled okra. I’d only had pickled okra which is truly its most divine form, then at a family cookout when I was 10 some auntie I’d never seen before or since (and thus, probably Satan herself in a sensible polyester church dress) brought a boiled okra salad.…

I’ve mellowed my anti-banana stance, but when I was a kid I hated ice cream and bananas. Ironically, I looooved banana Jell-O puddin’ pops, which I swear existed at some point in the 80's, though the internet seems to disagree with me.

Salad? Like, all salads?

YES. Watch the movie, too. I think the series is more successful than the film, but I really enjoyed both, especially the last half of the first season. For me it’s the best drama Netflix has done since The Get Down (which should’ve gotten more love than it did.)

Well said. I also remember a friend was tangentially involved in some sort of super competitive soccer youth club on the East Coast and the only way they wanted to accept money was online via card. They lost something like 60% of their Latino enrollment that year. Part of me thinks it was just tonedeafness, but the…

I have hustled my man out of SO. MANY. MEALS. simply by betting there will be a breathy white girl cover of Billie Jean.

HALSTON. Also, how could you deny Liza doing a cheesy cover of a gay anthem? It’s camp at its best!