Most of the comments I get on my blog and writing on other sites are very nice and I love them. But a very small percentage are just impossibly ridiculous and annoying. I think if we all followed these rules, everyone would be better off and I could cut my Prozac dose in half.
1. Don’t Brag
It’s cool that you taught your non hearing impaired kid sign language (just for kicks), but please, for the love of Christ, Muhammed, and any Moon Diety I’ve forgotten, keep it to yourself. Continue…
I just read this article and now I can’t feed my kids crackers without experiencing crippling guilt. Apparently, “everything we know about obesity and heart disease is wrong.” It feels like we hear that every four months. Medicine has more controversial paradigm shifts than Facebook. It’s frustrating at first, then everyone adjusts, only to have it change again. Eventually, we give up and eat Geno’s Pizza Rolls while staring at our timeline and wondering what day it is.
Because being a hypochondriac comes with an honorary medical degree, I’ll summarize the argument for you. Continue…
We’re so over-fed in this country that pockets of wierdos have started brewing sauces with the sole intention of causing oral and intestinal discomfort. Hot sauce makers compete over who can scare their customers more. It’s a redneck poetry slam where the name with the most alliteration wins. I don’t care how clever it is (not very), I’m not putting ”Birmingham Butt Burner” on my eggs.
Usually we plop comfort food on top of comfort food. Sheppard’s pie is the gastronomic equivalent of a Lazy-boy recliner. Continue…
When we lived in Park Slope, Brooklyn we bought a $100 Christmas tree outside the CVS pharmacy just like everyone else. I carried it on my shoulder down 5th avenue trying not to slip on greasy Quizzno’s wrappers or snag a branch on a fellow pedestrian’s sweater. On December 26th, the Jewish dude in apt. 3a wrote a snippy note complaining about all the pine needles in the hallway and then, sometime around February, we tossed the tree out onto the frozen exhaust-colored curb for dogs and drunk hipsters to pee on. Continue…
My parents arrived yesterday, but my dad’s juicer got here nearly three weeks ago. He mailed it way in advance to make absolutely sure he would have his juicer because, well, he “be juicin’” (his words).
This morning I drank a pint of liquified chard, kale, apple, grape and some other healthy stuff (ginger maybe?). I’m usually annoyed when people claim food gives them energy because, after I eat, I want to fall asleep in the bath and wake up when it’s time to eat again. Continue…
