Thanks for that. I think I had forgotten what those things were called.

"Do poms"?

It is sad. All of those years—and the apparent fact that most of us still don't know how to use commas correctly.

There are several ways to roast a turkey. Yours is a good method, but the turkey breast is done at 160F; it will rise to the USDA standard of 165F while resting. I don't think it's an overstatement to suggest that most home cooks overcook things like turkey, pork loin, and leg of lamb for fear of serving them…

And you will know them by their yellow hankies.

It's a masterpiece is you like Byzantine architecture—I'd have to agree with you, personally. But you can get your tired changed and shirts laundered while you shop for gold. Not many churches are quite so..."full-service."

I dunno, if I had been in Dierks Bentley's House I would have signed up for house football without question. Because I loved getting tackled by rich straight Dierks Bentleys in high school. Rich, straight and white. Or not.

You are so right—he never says what he thinks "the base" might want to hear. He says what he truly believes, and he's usually dead-on. I think he just uses common sense. And I'd like to hear him say "that's bullshit" a lot more often.

The microwave thing is SO GROSS. Who wants that hot fumunda smell in their kitchen?

Absolutely. It's a wonderful game—sounds like you're good at it. It's so rewarding to put all of the pieces together. Last year I got $500 rooms in a boutique hotel for $100, and we stayed in two palatial apartments in Portugal for $50/couple per night.

Canola oil also takes on a notoriously fishy smell and aftertaste especially when used for high-temperature sear/sauté.

Most bakeries, and definitely European ones, order butter in 50# (24 kilos? Can't remember.) boxes. The boxes are super-strength cardboard and they are lined with thick, food-grade plastic. Inside the plastic bag is an enormous block of heavenly milkfat—always stored at room temperature. You can't make Swiss…

Hang on a minute. I appreciate Tara's great illustrations and all, but if most of the straight women at Jezebel think that the verbal descriptions match the drawings, then I feel that we have arrived at complete ideological schism regarding the human penis between gay men and straight women. There's not a truly big…

I sometimes wonder how people differ in their adrenal response to real crisis such as this. Obviously, for some people the "fight response" is strong enough to overcome any fear of personal harm. Others, pragmatically, see the great fireball first, and run for cover.

I doubt the guy can afford to get a new car. That being said, I would want a top of the line detail; a paint job; an exorcism; those Hawaiian ladies that scatter orchids; those New Orleans ladies that burn bundles of clary sage; and a Tibetan Buddhist Funeral Ceremony for the car's former life.

I'm so glad you wrote this piece. My partner's mother used to go on an on about "the gays this" and "the gays that" until I said please, for the love of Barbie and Ken, STOP using that expression.

I can just hear my dad say, "What a racket they got goin' on!"

Shhhhhh! Don't you know that the mere mention of accidental free cable breaks the spell on their servers.

I've known a bunch of suicides—an absurd number, really—and I agree with you completely; the pain is incalculable, and it keeps on hurting the loved ones afterward, basically forever. In this case, though, he told her that he set it up to get her attention. I had the pleasure of meeting both of them, as they remained…

How many Google Cars?