Corn chips, plain ones (no cheese or onion powders), dipped in maple syrup. Trust me.
@H.E. Ladypants Also, the way nobody is allowed to sing anymore. Music is strictly for the professionals.
@apples and oranges Dinner for breakfast! Or there's my current favorite: quinoa cooked with a veg bouillon cube (shut up, it could be Lucky Charms), shredded carrots and lots of black pepper. Although I am grateful for breakfast time, because when else would I eat grapefruit? No other time of day really lends itself to carving little bits out of a big citrus shell and then juicing the whole thing.
Theresa's Sound World by Sonic Youth. I'm sorry, but that's the sound of sitting on a geyser.
For a completely different sexytime experience, Hotel Room by Richard Hawley is also very nice.
I like urban planning and pitbulls and prefer salty foods to sweet ones. I don't love or hate yoga, makeup, or fashion, they're just a fact of life to me. I may not actually be a lady at all.
@Julie the T "Splinter-free fingers" would probably be more accurate. I don't know if I've ever actually gotten a splinter from a chopstick, but just worrying about it is enough to get in the way of the food for some of us.
@Julie the T I know that rule, but if they are cheap...? Sorry, splinter-free mouth wins.
On Q: Why Does This Grape Tastes Like Cotton Candy? A: Because It Was Genetically Engineered to Taste Like Cotton Candy
Is this what happened to Bosc pears? A few years ago I noticed that they all stopped tasting like pears and took a perfumey cotton-candy flavor. I thought they were breeding for disease resistance and ended up in an unfortunate back alley of genetics. And that's when I stopped eating Bosc pears.
I had #2 except that the contempt was for the way she decorated his house in super-loud colors (she painted his bedroom, previously chocolate-brown, a sickly shade of lime), and I never got much past contempt, followed by relief and indifference. The drink for that was kombucha, all the different flavors.
80% Lost all respect when I learned the object of your unrequited crush
20% Can no longer pretend to care about your obsession with Hollywood.