ped_xing [he/him]

If I ordered a club sandwich and didn’t get a double decker, I’d infer that my application had been declined.

The best breakfast potatoes start off as baked potatoes. Bake 'em, wait up to overnight, chop them up and prepare with the onions and spices and what-have-you. If you still want to have them baked-style, go nuts.

The dogs vs. fent-sniffing-machines part of the 2024 debate will be machine guns vs. drones in 2028.

Fingerling potatoes

Asparagus

Habs

I eat 95% of the garbage the six companies that control the center aisles of supermarkets put out and . . . that shit can stay on the shelf. I have a line.

At what cost?

My surplus labor value at my first job, my second job, a few jobs in between and my current job.

You’re not my real parents!

Grilled bread cheese. Cutting it into cubes and making sure each side of each cube is grilled to perfection, or at least well, is a fun game. To turn it from a snack to a meal, add a whole can (they did say “low effort” after all) of daal and spice it up as needed.

Matouk’s Trinidad Scorpion Pepper Sauce.

Money? Is he out of horses?

Was it officer down?

I find np a worse message when taken literally. If I even have to write an email, it’s at least a little problem. yw allows for a problem you solved for somebody without suggesting that it doesn’t come at the expense of other priorities. Both will be interpreted the same way by almost everyone, of course.

You’re welcome to ask things like that of me. This is within the realm of stuff I will gladly do for you.

“Locally made” makes it sounds like they’re bringing them home from the farmer’s market in a canvas bag.

Feel free to spit on the current state of transit; it’s shit in so many places and there’s no pretending otherwise. It’s important to stress that the transit will be unrecognizable from current state if properly funded. If people think I’m talking about them ditching their cars, getting on the existing transit and watching their trip times go up 292%, they’d be right to dismiss me.

You definitely need “there are no rules” at first, but when your protege starts belting out Wonderwall in his best Bob Dylan impression, you have to switch to “there are some rules.”

Where I live, if you order a random taco off of a delivery service (I know, I know, I’ve pretty much stopped), you have a decent chance of your “taco” being on a fajita shell and containing iceberg lettuce, with a packet of mass-produced hot sauce on the side if you’re feeling adventurous. I think the weird absolutist positions well-meaning americans take is in response to this sort of disrespect for the history, the person making the food, the person delivering the food and the person eating the food.

Do you have a couch?

Yeah, I’m not running goatse linux.