“We have waged a war, or rather let a war be waged, against all of the animals we eat. This war is new and it has a name: factory farming.”
“I know that I belong to a small, eclectic community of men and women where status is calibrated precisely as a function of one’s ability to endure.”
Seasonal allergies are getting the full blame for this, and when they send me hate mail I will publish it.
I apologize that this is the second time today that I am going to get a Disney song stuck in your head.
I used the oven this time, you guys, and had a wooden spoon in one hand and a fire extinguisher in the other.
If you have a testimony about any home remedies for a cold, I am currently looking for religion.
You could never give up pasta? This recipe might just change your mind.
When I grow up, I want to be a mother and have a family, one little, two little three little children who would never in a million years touch anything I cook.
I cooked lunch and Tyrant ate every bite on his plate without pretending to gag once. What a missed opportunity.
Yes, I’m still cooking. And yes, I finally messed up.