Ribs.

My pleasure, Aimee.

Worth a read: The time Jose Ralat became a meme.

“LKJKKHBBBBRRRRRRRRRRR :::: drool :::::”

Politicians, while highly worthy, are pretty far down on my depth chart for pie targets.

Is not.

Which is why I included it.

The strong will survive and get stronger and expand and the weak and underfunded or poorly managed will go away.

Something I didn’t know until this weekend: Lyle Lovett’s “That’s Right (You’re Not From Texas)“ has the perfect rhythm for grating parmesan while my great dane looks on forlornly.

I think Jerry would agree with this. And, suitably, not care.

With all due respect, a tortilla rebuttal: chilaquiles. With two fried eggs on top.

You’re missing the point, which was about customizing orders.

With all due respect, this is not the time for customization.

My bride and I love this film, but we get to the part where Julia and Hugh are in bed talking (the Rita Hayworth convo), and she starts talking about breasts.

Yours was the lovely passage. I was water-skiing in your wake.

PANGER!

:::: clearing my throat ::::

“I invited Paden, but he ain’t havin’ any.”

There’s a slick moment in “Cop,” one that is almost unnoticeable, that leaps out in my memory. It only takes a few seconds, but it immediately cements the relationship between Axel and his art broker friend, Jenny. They go quickly from “Hey! How are you?” to catching up with each’s changes. Foley flirts with her and…

I learned this from smoking, but later it became a huge point of my sous vide cooking.