I used to be a vegetarian. Let me rephrase that. I used to be a “vegetarian.” Continue reading “confessions of a recovering idiot”
A lot happened in last night’s cage match fight to the death. I brought together for the first time many of my JVV regulars. My mad manipulation skillz were in full effect as I worked up a sweat convincing other people to cook for me at my house. In a strange turn of events, I found myself forcing vegetables in someone’s face other than my own. And for a period way longer than necessary, the conversation focused on something called vagina dip. But the most important thing that happened last night was that I won—pretty easily and swiftly—asparagus, and then about 20 minutes after everyone left I think I might have lost it. Continue reading “cage match fight to the death—round 2—asparagus”
The first night of the cage match fight to the death started out rather inauspiciously with David and me standing around the kitchen about to gnaw our own arms off, wholly unable to make a decision about dinner. We were at that testy point of hunger when blood sugar drops to just above death, eyes narrow, and speech emerges from somewhere guttural and dark. Continue reading “cage match fight to the death–round 1–radishes”
Yesterday I told David what the title to my most recent post was and he said, “So I guess you’re not cooking vegetables anymore, huh?” Continue reading “if you stop this fight i’ll kill you–rocky balboa”
Other than me, my mom is without a doubt the single most least-capable person I know. She called me last week to ask how to use a garlic press. No lie. She is also insanely aggressive in her quest to correct this hiccup in her design. Plus, she has the kind of competitiveness and attitude toward winning that make being in competition with me look like a day at the spa. And she doesn’t even cheat. That I know of.
Continue reading “smells like teen spirit, I mean, the odor of my perspiration, I mean, an ode to my inspiration”