"Cracker" isn't a derogatory term for white people. It's a derogatory term for one group of white people: poor, white Southern trash. It's black equivalent isn't the n-word, but some other mean-spirited, classist name, like "welfare queen."

Stupid sexy Lucky Tiger.

Stupid sexy Lucky Tiger.

Bubbler was a brand of water fountain.

Native Rhode Islander here, married to a man from Georgia. I didn't think this was unusual until my husband freaked out over it. "Memba'" As in, "Memba' when we got clamcakes that time, and you ate too many and got wicked sick?"

Jurassic City...Vatican City.

This is why I use Mr. T.

More like the second. I bake it in a pie shell. The filling is a mixture of ground meats, potatoes, and onions.

Northern Rhode Island is heavily French Canadian. and many families there have a recipe for Tourtiere, though it tends to be called French Meat Pie. I make my Nana's on Christmas Eve. Yum.

Not to mention significantly higher levels warfare. Even with our technological capacity to murder on a grand scale, humans today are far less likely to die of violence than the members of the tribal communities this man so admires.

His eyes aren't "robust."

I'm still waiting for this movie.

If there are any other word nerds out there, the online etymology dictionary's entry on amphibian is interesting when considering the Amphivena:

Oh yeah. Urine can definitely smell just like popcorn at times.

That sneaky bastard.

There is a restaurant near my office, one of those spots you find in cities that sells bagels in the morning and switches to salads and made to order sandwiches at lunch. The unique feature about this place is that the owner placed a giant, carved wooden lion in the middle of the restaurant. (I mean giant: http://bit.l…

My mother and I both find that coffee can sometimes smell, not like tuna, but like cat pee. Particularly once it starts to cool off.

Uniform: Polo shirt, backwards BoSox cap, white Adidas shoes. Shamrock tat. That. Accent. ADDITION: Sweatshirt with Alma Mater that smells like yesterday's beer and Axe body spray.

I encountered this exact set up in the ladies room of a bar on South Street in Philly. My friend and I called them the racing toilets and I am proud to say that, after a few too many beers, I won.

That horse is a toilet.

She should pica healthier habit.