Nobody makes mashed potatoes like my grandma did. They were thick and whipped, smooth and melty. You couldn’t find a lump in those things if you had a miner’s helmet and a metal detector. It was a love-hate relationship with food at her house. Either she made absolutely delicious things—like taco dip and crescent rolls—or completely revolting things—like pecan pie and 7-layer salad. (Seriously, people. … Continue reading food . . . glorious food
I passed Logic in college, but only barely. So tell me if I’ve got this syllogism wrong. Most 20somethings listen to hip music. 1940s music is not hip. I listen to 1940s music. I is not hip. I think that follows. Doesn’t it? So my house is retro. So I listen to Sinatra, Crosby, Martin, Davis, and Clooney every day. So I think women should … Continue reading so sue me
Here is the thing about single Lutheran men: they have roughly as much game as a third-grade T-ball team. Non-Lutheran boys, it turns out, are actually scientifically game-ier than wild turkies. (That’s excluding all of you married Lutheran men out there, since you obviously had enough game to get your wives. Or maybe not. Billions of years of scientific evidence proves that men always marry … Continue reading
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