Iʼm starting to think that my doctor is completely untrained in what to do when someone puts the lime in the coconut and drinks it all up.
I say, “Doctor!”
Sunday, August 27th, 2023 Alive 19,115 days
You grow fries, they grow you!
Saturday, August 26th, 2023 Alive 19,114 days
Iʼll take two bomb pops and one of those things with the strawberry crunchies on the outside
Saturday, August 12th, 2023 Alive 19,100 days
Does your landlord know about this?
Thursday, June 1st, 2023 Alive 19,028 days
Bean and cheese
Thursday, March 30th, 2023 Alive 18,965 days
What did one burrito say to the other burrito?
“Aaaaahh! Oh, holy shit! A talking burrito! Aaaaahh!”
Flaky
Friday, March 24th, 2023 Alive 18,959 days
Is it made with real Astros?
Friday, March 24th, 2023 Alive 18,959 days
If a supermarket comes out with a new flavor of ice cream named after the sportsball club that plays a few blocks away, Iʼm required to eat it, right?
It turns out this is a quality product. Very pronounced flavor. And in what may be a first for store-brand anything, I think it might actually have too much going on inside.
Theyʼre drunk
Wednesday, March 22nd, 2023 Alive 18,957 days
Fool me once…
Monday, March 13th, 2023 Alive 18,948 days
Thursday, March 9th, 2023 Alive 18,944 days
Wait till you see what they did with your address
Wednesday, February 22nd, 2023 Alive 18,929 days
You say potato…
Thursday, February 9th, 2023 Alive 18,916 days
Show me an ordinary spud, and Iʼll show you a commentator.
That joke stinks
Friday, February 3rd, 2023 Alive 18,910 days
Show me a green onion that can rhyme, and I'll show you a rapscallion.
“Will you be my friend?”
Saturday, December 24th, 2022 Alive 18,869 days
Sacrilicious
Monday, December 19th, 2022 Alive 18,864 days
Thursday, December 1st, 2022 Alive 18,846 days
The same train stop takes me to the cathedral for church, and to McDonaldʼs for McRibs.
I do not think this is a coincidence.
Toil and trouble
Sunday, October 30th, 2022 Alive 18,814 days
Extra pickles
Friday, October 28th, 2022 Alive 18,812 days
I only rarely go to McDonaldʼs; maybe three or four times a year. So I was surprised and delighted to find itʼs McRib season!
The McRib is the finest fast food sandwich there is. Better than a double Fisch Mac. Better than Starbuckʼs Thanksgiving panini. Yes, better than Chick-fil-a.
Itʼs never McRib season in Las Vegas, so for the seven years I lived there, I had to make my own — Driving three hours across the Mojave Desert to the nearest McDonaldʼs that had them, in Barstow, California. I never did find out why the McDonaldʼs franchises in Vegas donʼt carry McRibs.
Here, in Houston, McRib does exist, so I grabbed a loaf of that sweet, smokey, salty, crunchy, sesame seeded goodness.
Pro tip: Serve the sandwich on top of a pile of fries so that the sauce drips onto the fries, and you donʼt waste any of it on the plate.
Hope makes you fat
Thursday, October 27th, 2022 Alive 18,811 days
Hope is that human condition that compels us to continue eating barren Cool Ranch Dorito after barren Cool Ranch Dorito, just in case the next chip out of the bag is one of the five lucky chips that are laden with the seasonings promised in the picture on the outside of the bag.
Itʼs Chik-fil-a
Wednesday, October 26th, 2022 Alive 18,810 days
Sweet potato you got there
Thursday, October 20th, 2022 Alive 18,804 days
A neighbor I’ve never met before knocked on my door tonight and gave me this. She’s moving out, and found it in her refrigerator. She’s admired the garden on my balcony, and thought I might take care of it, since she’s leaving.
Over my wife’s objections, I have put it in a pot with some dirt, and we’ll see what happens when it has sunlight to work with, and not just the dim bulb of a refrigerator.
I can’t imagine what the rest of her refrigerator looks like.
You wrote “cut the cheese”
Tuesday, October 18th, 2022 Alive 18,802 days
What kind of a person eats pizza from a vending machine? Well… me.
Thereʼs a pizza ATM across the street from my home now, so I tried it for lunch, and it wasn't bad. It wasn't excellent, but it's pizza from a vending machine, not a bistro in Ischia Porte. I don't think anyone who knowingly buys pizza from a vending machine is in a place to complain about quality. Not even on the internet.
There are seven pizzas to choose from. I went with pepperoni because it's a good basic benchmark.
After three minutes, the machine ejects a pizza, like a 1981 Sanyo VCR. The result is not perfect, but it's perfectly edible.
There wasn't much pepperoni flavor. Perhaps some of the other choices are a little more pronounced. But the crust was quite good. Overall, it reminds me of pizza from the California chain Pieology.
The downside is that all you get is a pizza. If you don't already have a drink, that might be problematic. I happened to have a bottle of water with me, just like I knew what I was doing.

I took my pizza to the Harris County Employee Smoking Lounge (a.k.a. the alley by the sally[port]), and it managed to stay hot and crispy the whole way there.
I suspect the vending machine isnʼt doing too bad. I saw someone leaving with a pizza as I was walking toward it. When I was waiting for the bake, someone asked me about it. And when I was coming back from eating, there was a young couple waiting for their Hawaiian pie to cook. Thatʼs three customers in about 40 minutes. Not bad for an out-of-the-way location with zero advertising.
There's a slot on the machine that has cello-wrapped plastic knives. Take one. The crust is pre-sliced before the pizza bakes, so the cheese runs across the seams, and you'll have to cut the cheese to get pie-shaped wedges out of it.
Robble robble
Sunday, October 9th, 2022 Alive 18,793 days
Remember back when McDonaldʼs mascot was a convicted felon? Everyone knew it, and nobody cared.
Societyʼs tolerance and forgiveness has since been replaced by internet outrage.
Recact-o-matic
Saturday, October 1st, 2022 Alive 18,785 days
When H.E.B. says the grocery delivery person is 17 minutes away, thatʼs how I know he's standing outside my door unloading his cart. It's always exactly 17 minutes. I get the text message, look for the cat acting up, and can see the shadow of the delivery person outside my door.
Consistency is a good thing. And “consistently wrong” is a type of consistency, right?
“Thanksmas?”
Tuesday, September 27th, 2022 Alive 18,781 days
An object can be both well done, and not good at the same time. To wit: “Holiday Stuffing” favor potato chips from H.E.B.
The San Antonio supermarket chain has leapfrogged pumpkin spice season and landed firmly in the fuzzy, nostalgic quagmire of Thanksmas season.
Opening the bag, I took my usual deep breath of snackmosphere to preview what was ahead, and I nearly gagged. It really does smell very much like Stove-Top stuffing. It also tastes more like stuffing than a lot of brandsʼ actual boxed stuffing does these days.
So H.E.B. gets an A+ for execution, because when someone said “make stuffing-flavored potato chips,” someone else made it happen. But as food goes, itʼs just not good, because when you eat it, you expect one thing and get another.
Iʼll still finish the bag, though. And let the “Holiday” term slide because stuffing is traditional for both Christmas and Thanksgiving.
Sold by weight not number of crackers, blah, blah, blah…
Sunday, September 25th, 2022 Alive 18,779 days
The delightful thing about the Fresh Stacks version of Ritz crackers isn't that by putting the crackers in smaller sleeves, they stay fresher longer. It's that you never know how many crackers there are going to be in each sleeve.
In the photograph above, you can see that one sleeve has 14 crackers, while the other has 11. It's all the fun of a food lottery, but with a bonus side of vaguely feeling like you're being cheated.
We named the dog Pepita
Sunday, September 25th, 2022 Alive 18,779 days
I havenʼt lived in Texas long enough to consistently remember that some items in the supermarket are cheaper if theyʼre labeled in Spanish.
For example, here are two packages of bulk pumpkin seeds from H.E.B. The ones I bought on the 17th were the Spanish-labeled ones and cost $6.98 per pound.
A week later, I bought more pumpkin seeds, but accidentally got them from the English-labeled bin, so I ended up paying $7.98 a pound.
I initially noticed this while in the store because the two bins are near one another, which is why I picked the Spanish ones last time.
I suppose there are plenty of ways to get all angry and political about this, but Iʼm not. I find it amusing, and yet another one of the quirks of living Lone Star.
For your pleasure
Saturday, September 24th, 2022 Alive 18,778 days
Brain freeze
Thursday, September 15th, 2022 Alive 18,769 days
Smells like Autumn
Thursday, September 8th, 2022 Alive 18,762 days
Iʼm old enough to have lived in a world before “pumpkin spice” everything.
Coffee math
Sunday, August 21st, 2022 Alive 18,744 days
Nibbles
Wednesday, August 10th, 2022 Alive 18,733 days
Transportation artery
Wednesday, August 10th, 2022 Alive 18,733 days
L of a shop
Wednesday, August 10th, 2022 Alive 18,733 days
I was surprised to learn recently that a good number of people in Chicago donʼt know what this is. And many people donʼt even notice that theyʼre there.
Iʼm old enough to remember when these underground kiosks thrived at CTA stations all over Chicago. Some were newsstands. Some were Dunkinʼ Donuts shops. Some sold other kinds of food to passengers. I always thought that was funny, because at the time, you werenʼt allowed to eat or drink on a CTA train. But the CTA was happy to sell you both inside its own stations.
I remember lines at the Dunkinʼ Donuts kiosks would sometimes be long enough to block the turnstiles.
Today, theyʼre all boarded up with stainless steel plates. Some, like this one, are decorated. As if to pretend that they never existed at all.
I do not want fries with that
Wednesday, August 10th, 2022 Alive 18,733 days
Somethingʼs fishy
Sunday, June 12th, 2022 Alive 18,674 days
The last time I bought Orca Bay salmon fillets, the package weighed a pound. Now it's just ten ounces. Thatʼs 37½% smaller.
Either my supermarket switched to carrying the smaller package and kept the same price, or the fish company is putting fewer fish in the package.
Since thereʼs a different photo on the package, it doesnʼt seem like the fish company is trying to pull a fast one, so I blame the supermarket.
Me mine
Saturday, May 28th, 2022 Alive 18,659 days
Dessert tonight is some sorta chocolate mousse cake. Amtrak makes a fine sorta chocolate mousse cake. If my wife wasnʼt sitting right there, I would ask this sorta chocolate mousse cake to marry me.
Wait, I found the description:
Flourless Chocolate Torte: The perfect paring of bittersweet chocolates, topped with semisweet chocolate truffle ganache and drizzled with chocolate sauce and whipped cream.
I donʼt know why it has a hole in. Maybe thatʼs where the calories go.
Nothing to crab about
Saturday, May 28th, 2022 Alive 18,659 days
Tonightʼs Amtrak appetizer is going through an identity crisis.
“Lobster crab cake: Pan-roasted lobster crab cake served over a Farro, butternut squash and craisin salad with Sriracha cream.”
So itʼs got lobsters pretending to be crabs, and cranberries pretending to be raisins. Doesnʼt matter — it was really good.
Since 1840
Thursday, May 26th, 2022 Alive 18,657 days
I had dinner at Antoineʼs. Because when youʼre in New Orleans, you have Dinner at Antoineʼs.
I am sad to report that time, economy, and pandemic have not been kind to the place. It seems to have lowered its standards in order to bring in more foot traffic.
There are dinner specials. The wait staff is spread thin. Tourists are allowed in all dining rooms not only without a jacket, but in T-shirts and sockless. Any of this would have been absolutely unthinkable not that many years ago.
The food remains solid, if smaller. On the plus side, the baked Alaska remains among the best I've tried, even if it's been tarted up for the Instygram age.
Then again, when Iʼm 182 years old, I will probably make some concessions, too.
Shut up, I'm listening…
Wednesday, May 25th, 2022 Alive 18,656 days
I donʼt know if lunch at Galatoireʼs was the finest meal Iʼve ever eaten, but it is certainly in the top two of all time.
Part of it was the food, which was excellent. But most of it was the people. Both the staff, and the other customers.
The wait staff were the most professional Iʼve ever seen. They have mastered the art of being exactly where they should be at exactly the right time. Of being invisible, yet always on hand. Of being friendly, while being anonymous. Of putting the “serve” into service. And not just the ones attending my table. Watching the others around the dining room, I could see similar attention being given to everyone.
When the entire staff from the butter-and-rolls guy to the manager visits a pair of regulars over the course of an hour and greets them like old friends, it shows why those people keep coming back.
And thatʼs just it — this was a room of regulars. Each part of an individual knot of friends, but in a room full of friends new, old, and not yet met. And everyone so interesting to look at and listen to that my wife were silent with each other as we eagerly devoured multiple conversations from multiple tables at the same time.
- There was a table of what looked like old school lawyers and politicians discussing local issues in a way I couldn't comprehend.
- One of them went over to the table behind me to congratulate a debutante who was celebrating becoming a newly minted lawyer with her friend.
- There was a gaggle of ladies who lunch, celebrating the 70th birthday of a woman who didnʼt look a day over 45 — a good 45.
- A pair of 30-something gentlemen in subtle but designer clothes with impeccable table manners, looking like a cross between old plantation trust fund babies and rock stars.
Plus a scattering of people who looked like writers, playwrights, bankers, fashion designers, and a 30ish woman eating alone that the staff ensured was never lonely during her meal.

An in this age when too many American restaurants think “hospitality” means putting a time limit on your visit so they can “turn” the table for a new revenue source, my wife and I never felt rushed. We were there for two-and-a-half hours, and could easily have stayed longer. That was also true for everyone else. Most of the parties were already seated when we arrived, and when we left were still there talking, reminiscing, conspiring, and engaging in fruitful human-to-human contact in a way that has been largely lost elsewhere.
As a restauranteur, when a hundred people gather in your room, and nobody takes out their smartphone, you know youʼve done your job right.
What about the art?
Tuesday, May 24th, 2022 Alive 18,655 days
Museum cafes are almost universally overpriced. I figure that Iʼm paying a premium for the convenience of giving my feet a break, having a snack, and then resuming my mental stimulation with minimal delay.
A lot of museums think their food has to look like art, cater to waifs, and embrace the ”less is more” cliché.
But the New Orleans Museum of Art is different. Portions are large, prices are reasonable, and its fried chicken sandwich is quite good.
Also, thereʼs paintings and stuff in the other rooms of the building.
Any pork in a storm
Monday, May 23rd, 2022 Alive 18,654 days
My wife and I had dinner at The Court of Two Sisters. I got the pork chop, with came with a side of cornbread and a drizzle of pecan syrup.
O.K., maybe not a drizzle. More like a deluge. Perhaps a flood.
There was so much syrup in the dish, that I couldn't taste the pork, so I canʼt even say if it was good. With the cornbread absorbing the syrup puddle, it was more like breakfast than dinner.
I have a rule about meat: The only reason to drown it in sauce is to hide a bad cut of beef. I donʼt know if that applies to pork, as well.
All that said, The Court of Two Sisters deserves credit for at least being open. The pandemic has ruined dining in New Orleans. If you don't want fast food, or to eat in an ear-splitting bar, or something made of alligator, there are startling few options. Of those that remain, very few are open during the week; and even fewer on Mondays, Tuesdays, or Wednesdays.
The Sisters isnʼt excellent, but itʼs open. And when everything else is closed, that makes it the best restaurant in New Orleans that night.
Camping provisions
Monday, May 23rd, 2022 Alive 18,654 days
It doesn't have to be good, but it is.
The bar at the Hotel Monteleone puts out quite a nice meat-and-cheese tray. “Charcuterie” if youʼre trying to be fancy-schmancy.
There are a dozen reasons to waste four to six hours in the Monteleone bar: Watching the people on the carousel; watching the tourists perambulate outside; absorbing the art, music, and food New Orleans proffered throughout the morning. But the smörgås-on-a-board encourages you to linger, to sip your drinks slowly, and to chew as often as youʼre supposed to.
I wonʼt pretend to know or like every item on offer, but thereʼs enough variety for both me and my wife to find things we like, and we have very different tastes.
A fat-free, salt-free, sugar-free snack
Monday, May 23rd, 2022 Alive 18,654 days
They sure do grow stubby carrots in Paris
Sunday, May 22nd, 2022 Alive 18,653 days
People on the internet like to complain about things. Itʼs an inclination I suffer from, as well. But of the dozens of meals Iʼve had on Amtrak, I havenʼt had one yet that was worthy of complaint.
Here we see “Amtrakʼs Signature Flat Iron Steak.”
8-oz Black Angus steak with a cabernet reduction sauce, served with baby green beans, Parisian carrots, and your choice of cheddar polenta or a baked potato
I went with the polenta. Yummy.
Carrot cake is a vegetable, right?
Sunday, May 22nd, 2022 Alive 18,653 days
Cheezborger, Cheezborger, Cheezborger. No Coke. Pepsi.
Sunday, May 22nd, 2022 Alive 18,653 days
Amtrak makes a better cheeseburger on a train than I can make in my car. Almost as good as I can make on a grill. It's a hefty sammitch, with good char and flavor. Chips, though, not french fries. I guess vats of boiling oil are a bad idea in a moving conveyance.
Amateurs
Saturday, May 21st, 2022 Alive 18,652 days
If I had an Instagram account, I could tell the supposedly Texas-style Howdy Kolache company that saguaro cacti donʼt grow in Texas. They only grow in southwestern Arizona, hundreds of miles away.
Iʼd tell them myself, but like many hobby companies these days, the only way to make contact is via the one random social media app of their choice.
Dumbo gumbo
Wednesday, April 27th, 2022 Alive 18,628 days
Me: “I'll start with the seafood gumbo.”
Waitress: “Shrimp, crab, sausage, okra, rice.”
Me: “Shrimp.”
It turns out she wasnʼt asking me what kind of gumbo I wanted, she was listing the ingredients. It has all of those things in it. Lucky for me, she was tactful and didnʼt point out my dumbassery.
True grits
Wednesday, April 27th, 2022 Alive 18,628 days
The bowl is deeper than it looks, and submerged beneath the sauce is way more grits than one digestive tract can process.
Shrimp and grits at the Grand Galvez Hotel is Gulf shrimp, smoked cheddar grits, andouille sausage, peppers, and onions under a green chili sauce.
Itʼs food that sticks to your ribs. And your pancreas. And all of the rest of your major organs. A good way to replenish your energy if youʼve just wrestled a shark out of the maw of an alligator while snorkeling off Seawolf Park.
But they made you a lilly
Saturday, April 23rd, 2022 Alive 18,624 days
Itʼs always a shame when bad people happen to good coffee. That seems to be whatʼs happening at the Canary Cafe location on Fulton just north of Cavalcade.
The store is nice. Good decoration. Good furniture. Even a cozy backyard in which to savor and chill.
The coffee is good. The sweets are excellent. I had something that was something like a cross between a peanut butter sandwich and baklava. Trés scrummy.
But the people running the place donʼt really seem to know what theyʼre doing. Itʼs like they came from another planet where everything they know about serving coffee came from watching reruns of Friends. As if theyʼve never actually been to a coffee shop, themselves.
Maybe itʼs a new location, and these are just growing pains. The newspapers are full of stories about how restaurants canʼt find quality workers, so maybe this is evidence of that problem.
But Iʼll certainly go back. The coffee is solid, and the pastries would make a firefighter bite a Dalmatian. Hopefully, the people problems will be worked out by then.

What can brown do for you?
Saturday, April 16th, 2022 Alive 18,617 days
Stick to your ribs
Thursday, March 3rd, 2022 Alive 18,573 days
You know what sounds awful? Pizza on a stick.
You know what is really good? Pizza on a stick!
Carnival food can be really awful, but the pizza on a stick at the Houston Livestock Show and Rodeo is really good. Flavorful, moist, and easy to handle without getting greasy. The amount of pizza you get on a single stick is a full meal, so as carnival food goes, itʼs good value for money.
Are the beaks “Chicken noses?”
Friday, February 25th, 2022 Alive 18,567 days
Culinary cartography
Friday, February 25th, 2022 Alive 18,567 days
D'lish!
Saturday, February 19th, 2022 Alive 18,561 days
After a day at the tree museum, I like to stop at Food D'lite on the way home. Itʼs a combination hamburger stand and Chinese food joint.
Itʼs my understanding that in the early part of the last century, it was common for Chinese immigrants who opened restaurants to serve both Chinese and American cuisine, in order to expand their customer base and to ingratiate themselves with the locals. Iʼve also noticed it in a number of old movies from the 1940ʼs, so it seems to be a little slice of Americana that is fading away as restaurants now strive to pigeonhole themselves into a particular category, rather than attract the largest number of people they can.
As you can tell from the picture, Food D'lite is small, old, and garishly-painted. So, naturally my expectations were high the first time I went here.
I have never gotten a hamburger from this stand, but I am happy to report that the Chinese food is excellent. Itʼs very much in the style of the heavy, muddy East Coast Cantonese I grew up with, and very far from the fresh-crispy-sprouts-and-heat of the West Coast Szechuan Iʼve had to make do with for the last decade.
If the Metro Green Line ran just another 4.8 miles eastward, Iʼd probably have lunch here every other day.
Burning calories
Sunday, November 21st, 2021 Alive 18,471 days
Thinking is hard
Thursday, November 11th, 2021 Alive 18,461 days
A column in todayʼs newspaper suggests, “Try a plant-based sweetener like Stevia” instead of sugar.
So what exactly to millennials think sugar is made from? Rocks? Oil? The dried, ground up bones of boomers?
Lactose tolerant
Friday, October 15th, 2021 Alive 18,434 days
Wrapped attention
Saturday, October 9th, 2021 Alive 18,428 days
Tom-foolery
Friday, September 3rd, 2021 Alive 18,392 days
Coffee cops
Saturday, August 14th, 2021 Alive 18,372 days
Thereʼs a weird kind of hybrid bar -slash- epicurean bodega near my home called District Market that gives free coffee to cops and other essential workers. Thatʼs nice.
People make a lot of jokes about cops and doughnut shops thinking that itʼs nothing more than a lame stereotype, but few understand that thereʼs a historical reason for that association.
America used to be littered with all-night coffee shops. This was because people used to stay out later, as they didnʼt have much entertainment at home. People also used to work later because a lot of once-massive industries demanded it. And more people worked overnight shifts than they do now. Stopping at a coffee shop or a diner on the way home at 2am was a perfectly normal thing to do. People also used to work harder, so in some cities there were 24-hour cheap steak joints, but thatʼs a story for another time.
Because these coffee shops were open in the small hours, they were often the targets of criminals. A clever way to attract police officers to your late-night noshery in order to repel criminals was to offer the badged free coffee, and sometimes free doughnuts.
Whether District Market is giving away free coffee in lieu of paying for improved security doesnʼt really matter, because itʼs still a nice thing to do. And the whole notion of “free coffee” which used to be ubiquitous in American society has almost disappeared today.
Stock poorly
Friday, August 13th, 2021 Alive 18,371 days
My apartment building has a Stockwell vending machine in the basement.
Unlike the vending machines of yore, this one is just an open cabinet with a camera that watches what you take off the shelves and uses magic A.I. fairies to send you a bill. That is, if it works. Which it doesnʼt.
I canʼt even get the Stockwell app to acknowledge that the Stockwell machine in my building exists.
I guess Iʼll spend my snack money at the convenience store across the street, instead. Where I can pay by cash, or credit card, or Apple Pay, or even food stamps if I had them. And if something goes wrong, there are intermittently friendly people to help me out, and not some Silicon Valley robot barking, “object has no attribute.”
On, Dasher
Thursday, August 5th, 2021 Alive 18,363 days
Good enough for owls
Friday, June 18th, 2021 Alive 18,315 days
No beating around the bush. I will just plainly state right here that Wise potato chips are the best potato chips on the planet.
Every once in a long while something goes terribly wrong with the universe and a black hole opens up, depositing Wise potato chips at a store near where I live. They are the potato bomb.
While most other potato chips aspire to be like Layʼs potato chips, these are the chips that Layʼs aspires to emulate.
The only problem is that theyʼre hard to come by if you donʼt live back east. And occasionally youʼll get a weird, shriveled green potato chip. But I eat those, too.
Itʼs half way to cheese
Wednesday, May 19th, 2021 Alive 18,285 days
Tuesday, May 18th, 2021 Alive 18,284 days
I used to blame myself and feel bad for not checking the expiration dates more closely when Iʼd end up with expired food from Safeway.
Now Iʼm just mad that Safeway willingly and repeatedly sells me expired food.
He is from Delaware
Saturday, April 24th, 2021 Alive 18,260 days
Me: “Hey, #Siri, put Hamburger Helper on my groceries list.”
Siri: “Who is speaking?”
Me: “Joe Biden.”
Siri: “OK, Iʼve added it to your groceries list.”
I sure hope the president likes Hamburger Helper.
Watch out for Yogi!
Monday, April 19th, 2021 Alive 18,255 days
Paging Doctor Rorschach
Friday, April 2nd, 2021 Alive 18,238 days
How about some free shipping next time?
Saturday, March 27th, 2021 Alive 18,232 days
Umlauts make it taste better
Tuesday, March 16th, 2021 Alive 18,221 days
Saturday, February 20th, 2021 Alive 18,197 days
Why is there a door knob on the inside of my pantry door? Do my Froot Loops and Hamburger Helper get claustrophobic during the night and go out for a walk?
Up next: Italian chili
Saturday, February 13th, 2021 Alive 18,190 days
Darcie likes when I make her pizza from scratch. I donʼt do it as often as I should because the dough is a lot of work.
But when I do accede to her cravings, I also make myself a “cowboy pizza.” Itʼs made from whatever I happen to find in the refrigerator that is remotely pizza-like. Peppers, onions, tomatoes, bits of random leftover meats and cheeses.
I call it “cowboy” pizza because I cook it in a cast iron skillet, since I only have one pizza pan.
No shit
Sunday, January 24th, 2021 Alive 18,170 days
Shitʼs on fire, yo
Saturday, December 19th, 2020 Alive 18,134 days
I miss having Darcie around to dote on so I can pretend that my real life doesnʼt exist.
Sheʼs still at work, so Iʼm baking her a cake right now. Iʼll probably burn it, like I did with the last cake. And the cupcakes. And the pumpkin pies at Thanksgiving. Baking is not my thing.
Blue mold
Thursday, November 26th, 2020 Alive 18,111 days
Saturday, October 10th, 2020 Alive 18,064 days
I wonder if it’s easier to track down the source of food poisoning these days since so many people are constantly taking pictures of their meals.
Whopper of a lunch
Thursday, October 8th, 2020 Alive 18,062 days
Each day for the last month, Iʼve included a piece of Halloween candy when I pack Darcieʼs lunch. And each day I notice that the Whoppers always seem to come back unopened.
I think she hasnʼt really given Whoppers a chance. So I made her an all-Whoppers lunch today.
Hot pockets
Wednesday, February 26th, 2020 Alive 17,837 days
Bird brain
Thursday, November 28th, 2019 Alive 17,747 days
I think the best recent Thanksgiving invention is the Thanksgiving panini at Starbucks. If you havenʼt had one, try it. Theyʼre a little better this year because they left out the cranberry sauce.
Iʼm so dumb, it only occurred to me yesterday that I can make all of the Thanksgiving paninis I want with my Thanksgiving leftovers!
You donʼt want to know
Monday, September 23rd, 2019 Alive 17,681 days
Saturday, March 23rd, 2019 Alive 17,497 days
The road, she is closed
Sunday, February 24th, 2019 Alive 17,470 days
Saturday, February 16th, 2019 Alive 17,462 days
Friday, February 15th, 2019 Alive 17,461 days
Tuesday, February 12th, 2019 Alive 17,458 days
Monday, January 21st, 2019 Alive 17,436 days
Saturday, January 12th, 2019 Alive 17,427 days
- Good: The Timbisha Shoshone indians have opened the first business on their new reservation: a taco stand.
- Bad: Iʼm the only one here.
- Worse: A taco costs ten bucks.
Minutes later, the place filled up with hungry tourists. With the white manʼs government shut down, this is about the only food available in this part of Death Valley.
Sunday, December 23rd, 2018 Alive 17,407 days
Thursday, December 13th, 2018 Alive 17,397 days
Wednesday, December 5th, 2018 Alive 17,389 days
Thursday, November 22nd, 2018 Alive 17,376 days
Wednesday, November 21st, 2018 Alive 17,375 days
I think this is the cat equivalent of a dog drinking all of the water from a Christmas tree stand.
Sunday, November 18th, 2018 Alive 17,372 days
Friday, November 9th, 2018 Alive 17,363 days
Friday, November 9th, 2018 Alive 17,363 days
Friday, November 9th, 2018 Alive 17,363 days
Saturday, October 27th, 2018 Alive 17,350 days
Tuesday, October 9th, 2018 Alive 17,332 days
You go put a ticket on it
Monday, October 8th, 2018 Alive 17,331 days
Monday, October 8th, 2018 Alive 17,331 days
Sunday, October 7th, 2018 Alive 17,330 days
Saturday, October 6th, 2018 Alive 17,329 days
Saturday, October 6th, 2018 Alive 17,329 days
Friday, October 5th, 2018 Alive 17,328 days
Wednesday, October 3rd, 2018 Alive 17,326 days
Sunday, September 30th, 2018 Alive 17,323 days
Saturday, September 29th, 2018 Alive 17,322 days
Thursday, September 27th, 2018 Alive 17,320 days
Wednesday, September 26th, 2018 Alive 17,319 days
Iʼm old enough to remember life before Cool Ranch Doritos.
Those were a rough 15 years.
Do it!
Saturday, September 22nd, 2018 Alive 17,315 days
Saturday, September 22nd, 2018 Alive 17,315 days
Friday, September 21st, 2018 Alive 17,314 days
Friday, September 21st, 2018 Alive 17,314 days
Friday, September 21st, 2018 Alive 17,314 days
Sunday, September 9th, 2018 Alive 17,302 days
Sunday, September 9th, 2018 Alive 17,302 days
Sunday, September 9th, 2018 Alive 17,302 days
Sunday, September 9th, 2018 Alive 17,302 days
Sunday, September 9th, 2018 Alive 17,302 days
Sunday, August 26th, 2018 Alive 17,288 days
Irony: The lady at Whole Foods pontificating about the horrors of genetically modified food, while holding a chorkie.
At least the dog knows it wonʼt get eaten.
Sunday, August 19th, 2018 Alive 17,281 days
My well-intentioned ex-pat sister-in-law sent me real Cadbury chocolate from Ireland. +1 for thoughtfulness. But no points awarded for not realizing that a metal mailbox in 120° desert heat in the sun will turn a candy bar into a 360 gram purple bag of goo.
Saturday, August 4th, 2018 Alive 17,266 days
Monday, July 23rd, 2018 Alive 17,254 days
Sunday, July 22nd, 2018 Alive 17,253 days
Sunday, July 22nd, 2018 Alive 17,253 days
This morning my egg formed itself into a perfect circle. And I donʼt even own a ring mold.
Itʼs also Red Flag week on the other side of town. Coincidence?
Saturday, July 21st, 2018 Alive 17,252 days
Saturday, July 14th, 2018 Alive 17,245 days
Searching for a new butcher this morning, I was reminded once again that you can get anything in Vegas. Anything.
So if anyone needs any coyote chops, bobcat stew meat, peacock thighs, lion fish filets, or otter steaks, I know a place.
Also, guinea pig nards (apparently suitable for slow cookers) are $19.99 a set. A SET!
You want fries with that?
Thursday, July 12th, 2018 Alive 17,243 days
Wednesday, July 11th, 2018 Alive 17,242 days
They say that Iron Chefs can cook anything.
OK, prove it. Bring on Battle: American Cheese.
Monday, July 9th, 2018 Alive 17,240 days
Taco Bell makes me happy that Darcie insists I buy the good, fluffy toilet paper.
Tuesday, July 3rd, 2018 Alive 17,234 days
I ate so many Doritos when I was a teen-ager that I may die, but Iʼll never decompose.
Saturday, June 30th, 2018 Alive 17,231 days
…at least he learned how to make bread in prison.
Saturday, June 30th, 2018 Alive 17,231 days
Woman: “It’s just bread.”
Man: “You’re just bread.”
Monday, June 18th, 2018 Alive 17,219 days
Saturday, June 9th, 2018 Alive 17,210 days
If a steakhouse has an oil painting of the mayor and her mob lawyer husband on the wall over their regular booth, itʼs probably a good steakhouse.
If a steakhouse has brass plaques identifying the regular tables of people from Frank Sinatra to Mario Andretti, itʼs probably a very good steakhouse.
But do you know how you can tell if a steakhouse is an excellent steakhouse? Creamed spinach, baby!
Monday, October 20th, 2014 Alive 15,882 days
Five nuns walk into a pizza shop…
Nope, itʼs not a joke. Itʼs what happened when I was waiting for my wife at Beggarʼs Pizza.
Itʼs good luck when thereʼs a priest on your plane or train. With five nuns in attendance, this is going to be the luckiest meal of my life.