Because we keep the outside door open at work, I spent the day battling blue fingers, tremors, and stiffening muscles. The boss, who is insensitive to extremes of hot and cold, didn't notice a thing.
That probably explains why I'm eating a big owl of icecream right now. Suffering makes you tough. What doesn't kill you makes you want icecream.
Chocolate.
Too many icecream flavours have nuts. It's a lapse of judgement and taste that seems to be peculiarly American. We did not fight a war to make the world safe for icecream with nuts.
If I had to describe America with culinary crimes, then carrot cake, three bean salad, and tuna casserole would be right up there with icecream containing nuts, and those horrid little marshmallows.
The reason why so many Americans are outdoorsy and have that tough he-man thing going on is they're trying to avoid crap like carrot cake, bean salad, and tuna casserole. "Not now, mom, I'm off to battle the moose. If there's any left I'll have some later." "Good gracious, Jethro, your digestive organs are methane-empowered today, we had best ventilate this warehouse."
"I always sleep with my windows open; it helps me deal with Mom's cooking."
"you can't marry him, because of the foods he eats, it's not just lutefisk."
We had to freeze with the doors open today, breakfast may have been carrot cake, bean salad, and tuna casserole. Washed down with some lutefisk, yum yum.
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