She's not your "ex-wife." She died. Please refer to her as your late wife, even though you obviously are happily re-married and that's a good thing.

This wouldn't have bothered me except he had two kids with her. I don't know why that bothered me. I'm in a weird mood this morning.

This choice line, from page 4: "I'm still gettin it daily in here, thank a given [sic]!"

Drooooooooool. Fapfapfapfapfapfapfapfapfapfap.

"lol"

Please, please, please never write "lol" when you're actually WRITING something.

That being said, the only reason you'd ever actually be WRITING something would be because you're in jail awaiting trial for 94 felony murder charges or whatever. I lost count.

Be QUIET, you.

THAT'S NOT FUNNY.

Oh hell fuck it, +2

This actually is a myth. One of several lies you were told in school.

Definitely not hillbilly...more like...nuclear war survival. If the bombs are dropping and all there's left are scrambled eggs then FINE IF I MUST but North Korea better airburst some catsup on them or else I'm not eating that shit. Bleeeeccccchh.

I think you're exactly right. I'll blame the five liters of stout I drank last night. Heh, cheers!

I totally just Facebook friended you by the way, unless I got the wrong guy in which case I look creepy right now.

You'd be stunned how many of my friends feel the same way.

+1

If this guy is what passing molecular gastronomy looks like, I prefer failure.

There is NOTHING hypocritical about my screen name. That shit is as keeping it real as it gets!

Not allergic nor vegan, just a 42 year old spoiled rotten only child. These things tend to carry deep into adulthood.

And I commented because I freaking love Albert Burneko as much as I hate scrambled eggs. Also mushrooms.…

I revel in my screen name's meta-redundancy. By the way, it's all true.

Yes, it could have, presumably if you wrote it.

I doubt anyone would have enjoyed it quite as much.

Also, the only way I'm coming within a mile of scrambled eggs is with a Mount Vesuvius of off-brand ketchup, the kind spelled catsup, hemmoraged on top. Because scrambled eggs are gross. And Albert Burneko is one of the best writers in all of GM.

You know, Gawker Media isn't an English Comp class where your opinion on the writing itself — as opposed to the topic itself — is welcome, let alone getting paid for.

Jokey tone aside, I'm sick as fucking shit of commenters who think they need to give a performance review to everything they read. Don't like it? Then do…

Too soon.