Stumptown got screwed. I loved that show.

I could watch Emily Blunt read from a phone book.

Wow, Flint-Bishop is up to 15 gates. I still remember when they went from 4 to 8. It still beats the crap out of Detroit Metro, and if you live in Oakland county, the distance from home is about the same.

He looks like the guy I once saw pissing on the wall in a NYC subway platform. The train driver laid on the horn as we left the station, and pisser turned around to face where the noise had come, while still pissing; same vacant expression.

...and it does that because they decided to do that on their own.

Oh they are, and just because our dog is in my face doesn’t mean she’s getting of it.

When I did IT support for a medical non profit, I found the gizmo that creates those personal blister packs, and I found it fascinating to watch. I think the term is slack jawed wonder.

This movie list slideshow is a record for me. I’ve seen 18 of 22. Man on Fire is so good that I watched the clip (“Rectum? Damn well killed him!”) again.

If I don’t donate my books to Goodwill, how the hell are they supposed to restock their bookshelves?

I’ve taken the baked garlic and squeezed it out onto bread like the world’s worse/best toothpaste (this might have been Clare’s original article telling me this), but I’ll also do that on a nice water cracker, and our dog always wants in on that action too.

This talk of smoked turkey reminds me of the last turkey farm that had been left in an otherwise would-be hoidy toidy suburb of St. Paul. I used to call two days before Thanksgiving, order my bird, which they would then dispatch that same afternoon. I would pick it up, and at home I’d fire up my extremely cheap…

I use the ramekin for my roasted heads of garlic. Strip most of the paper off (most recipes says to cut off a 1/4 inch of the head, I don’t care) , cover the top of the head with a thick layer of butter, and roast the garlic at 400 for about 40-45 minutes.

Jeez, I got my grandmother’s crust recipe from my mother when I was still talking with her, and it’s perfectly fine (her crust and her apple pies were honed in a Nova Scotia wood fired oven 90 years ago), and it’s just too damned easy to make.

Even as a five year old, I knew to offer the back of my hand for safe sniff. I was walking a block in front of my mom when I offered my hand to a dog I didn’t know, and she yelled at me to be careful with the dog. I turned to address her about it, and that was when the dog reached out and it quickly and neatly removed…

We never had Ovaltine in the house when I was a kid, I had to visit some relative to find out how vile it tasted. We were a Nestle Quik home when I was growing up, and as a fucking old adult I still have what’s now called Nesquik.

I’d imagine that every state is dealing with the GOP ads (that NEVER mention the word “Republican” as they demonize Democratic office holders) that I’ve been seeing in Minnesota. They are laughably bad, but they must be working somewhere, otherwise the GOP handlers are flushing their media buys down the crapper at an…

Nuke your pot pies. It’s 5 1/2 minutes in the microwave.

I could not for the life of me understand what the hell Megan was saying for most of her sketches. Yeah, I already had subtitles turned on, and as always, they sucked with their word salad.

Still waiting on Emma Watson to jump back into the fray, because I have always thought that someday she will win an Oscar.

Armie’s “it’s what’s for dinner” commercial?