YOU WANT RANCH DRESSING WITH THAT?

Two people among my Facebook friends used to be married. To each other. They aren't anymore. One of them made a wonderful meal for her man on Valentine's Day, the other posted something about a superhero which I did not understand. A third friend posted a cartoon showing a young lady bashing the bejazus out of her man with flowers, screaming that instead she wanted pizza and tickets to the Slipknot concert, you mongoloid!

My as yet still imaginary next girlfriend would probably fall into that last category. But not Slipknot, which is an American heavy metal band from the Midwest, where life is grim, uncompromising, agro-industrial, filled with corn, and altogether not worth living.

They'll probably all vote for Nikki Haley there.
Quod erat demonstrandum.


Personally, I find a fondness for corn baffling. Yeah, um, it's okay. Both white bread Anglos and many Chinese Americans are in love with it, and Mexico can't imagine living without it. Myself, if I never had another drop of corn sweetener again I'd be perfectly fine.

And as for cooked corn with butter and or cayenne, I'm falling off the other side of the fence.

Having grown up elsewhere (we went overseas when I was two), there are some American tastes to which I just cannot cotton. Salads with gloop dressing. Corn. Mc Donalds.
Hazelnut frappucinos. Gum. Budweiser. Nickelback. Football. Yoko Ono.

On the other hand, things that I'm fond of frequently disgust people.
Sambal with everything. Mayo on my fries. Bitter melon.
Fish sauce. Nutmeg. Strong tea.
Herring.


I'll never get used to heavy metal.
You folks are just weird.



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