Fresser

I remember the Flaming Homer. Homer mixed up every half-bottle of booze under the bar, added some Robitussin and ignited the mix. This wacky libation made Homer quite the chick-magnet.

Sadly, Alex has claimed the spare room, and I don't have a couch that's fit for sleeping (not to mention that it's in the living room and my little person gets up way too early). There are three hotels very near by, at a variety of price points, including a Super 8 which should be super cheap. Or perhaps another local can offer crash space? ← Tammy, I'm happy to crash on the living room floor. And don't worry about the munchkin running about in the early morn--I'm known as the unofficial babysitter of the Heartland. Also, I have a hunch that my co-pilot Maggie might need accommodations as well. Maybe we can all pitch a tent and eat pastrami under the stars!

Are couch-crashing privileges available for migratory Heartlanders? I'm making the jaunt early Saturday morning (tentatively with Maggie the Cat as co-pilot), so I just need one night of sleepspace. DISCLAIMER: You haven't lived until you've seen the Fress Man with early-morning bed-head.

Calling Dr. Howard, Dr. Fine, Dr. Howard!

This wasn't actually in someone's cart but... Once at Costco, I saw a five-pound tub of Skippy peanut butter on a shelf and exclaimed, "You could cover an entire person with that!" My friend Puddin' Buns turned to me and said flatly, "You should get out more..."

When the ice-cold kitchen cube becomes too overloaded (and filthy) to bear, I put up my handy sign that says, "Armageddon is here. This refrigerator will be cleaned on xx-xx-xx. Please remove your food-like items by that date or they will be discarded." Usually the office drones will respond by retrieving some of their superannuated snacks, leaving the fridge somewhat empty and merely decorated with food stains. But this Friday the staff had made no such effort and said fridge was so overstuffed it was "(A)pproaching maximum density," as Bender from "The Breakfast Club" would put it. Enter Neat-Freak Fresser!! I purged four shelves-worth of decaying rot, milk that passed its expiration date a month ago and various and sundry condiment bottles that were nearly empty. Two Hefty bags later, said fridge (which I have nicknamed "The Petri Box") was barren, so I pulled out all the shelves and gave them a good soap-and-water sudsing in the kitchen sink. I actually feared the wrath of some Dilbertesque creatures who would storm in and bellow, "You threw out my two-month old milk? I was culturing it to make cheese!" But a hardy soul actually came in and said, "Fresser, in case no one else does, I want to thank you for cleaning out this disgusting fridge. It looks BEAUTIFUL now." Does anyone else have fridge-cleaning stories? Am I the only one to VOLUNTEER for the Kitchen Police?

My chicken recipe may be slightly off-kilter, as I use only dark meat, but here goes. Mince a large red onion and a Soba-esque quantity of garlic cloves. Mush both the onion and garlic together and paste the mixture under the chicken pieces' skin. Sprinkle some black pepper on top of the chicken pieces and plop them onto a sizzling hot broiler pan, skin-side up. As the chicken starts to brown, baste the chicken pieces in cayenne pepper sauce (I use Frank's Red Hot). Broil the chicken for about thirty minutes, turning frequently and basting with more pepper sauce. Vinegar from the cayenne pepper sauce will evaporate, so the chicken will not be too spicy, but rather MOST savory. And the garlic-onion mixture will season the chicken nicely, and the chicken skin will be crispy and flavorful. I whipped up this recipe at Maggie the Cat's place once.

My favourite cereal is Oatmeal with fruit and sugar-free cookies. Click the link to find out why.

ROAD TRIP!!! Count the Fress Man in for this one. I can't wait to motor down I-94 for some good Yooper hospitality. Who wants to ride shotgun in the Fressermobile?

Garlic is an Italian air freshener! And who doesn't like fresh air? On the other hand, I once sauteed kippers and eggs in college--the entire dorm room smelled like dead fish. My roommates almost dangled me out the window by my ankles, but the dinner tasted great!

If you eat beef, kashrut dictates that you wait six (!) hours before consuming dairy. However, if you eat dairy first, you must wait 30 minutes before consuming beef.

Trick-or-Treat was the least of my worries that evening, Genny. Given that it was Halloween, I figured I could use the restaurant's mens room without much fuss. So I used the facilities and was washing up when a youngish guy walked in, looked at me and screamed, "AAAAAUUGHHH!" Then he ran out the bathroom door so quickly he forgot to open it first. I thought to myself, "Maybe he thought it was the ladies' room instead." So I sauntered back to the table where he and his friends were seated and said in my best basso profundo, "Hey, Man...there's plenty of room in there." This poor chap was cowering in fear, bleating, "Nooo! Please nooo!!" He was curled up in a little ball while the rest of his table convulsed with laughter. So I ask you ladies: the next time I dress up as Heather Duster, should I powder my nose in the ladies room instead? And do I get to claim PMS as my excuse?

Mazel Tov on on the impending arrival of Fat Baby!!

When I attended Hebrew school in Chicago, classmates stuck me with the nickname "Manischewitz." This was due the similarity between my last name and the famed matzo-maker.

A Caucasian co-worker of mine used to work in New York City. When his staff ordered lunch from a Chinese-run coffee shop, an American-born Chinese girl would always place the order in Chinese and, at the end of her order, say, "Fat lo fan." Frank would pick up the food, but he never had to introduce himself as the staff always recognized him and gave him the order. So finally he asked the Chinese girl, "I don't know how they recognize me. Could you please tell me, what does 'fat lo fan' mean?" The poor girl turned beet-red and murmured, "It means, 'Fat white guy.'" Frank still laughs about it to this day.

You mean getting dolled up earns me an invite to the Ladies' Luncheon? O.K., here goes...

No. ← I'm depressed and I want fried chicken.

Suzi, We're just sensitive, in-touch-with-our-feminine-side kinds of men. And no, I'm not wearing the French Maid outfit as I write this. That only comes out for costume parties and bar mitzvahs.

I'll be right over! ← Aside from the fact that I'm happily married... That pillsbury dough picture you posted will be forever imprinted in my mind. Just where is that boy hiding his goods in that skin tight white outfit? ← Oh, you mean this? Just imagine the Pillsbury DoughFresser showing up when you're craving starches.

I'll be right over!

How about "Gourmet Dawg"?

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← Now waaaaiiiit a minute!! I dressed up as the Pillsbury Doughboy for Purim once and was quite the white-faced stud. See for yourself: Anybody remember the McDonald's pitchman dressed up as a squealing train conductor? Now THERE'S a shady character.

People order filet mignon simply because it has an effete-sounding French name. This gives an air of elegance to a flavorless and otherwise unattractive cut of steak.