2. I have learned that the phrase "Who's your daddy?" means something different than I thought it did. I thought the question implied, "Please tell me the name of your father, because when I am finished doing whatever it is that is impressive here, I will then seek him out and demonstrate how very superior I am to him, thus impressing him as well." I have discovered (not from real life! From a comedy routine) that this phrase may be uttered by men in the midst of copulation, which at first fit my expectations--I mean, maybe he wants to go to her father and ask for her hand in marriage or something? But then I discovered that a man asking this question is expecting an answer along the lines of "You are, dearest," which had me shrieking EWWWWWWW!! Oh, for the days when I lived in ignorance. *shudders* And they think slashers are weird.
3. I would make a poor vegetarian. I hate beans. I don't mean that they're vile or that I gag if one passes my throat, I just hate the way they're expected to rise to the occasion and function as meat substitutes. They're boring. They aren't tasty; who the bleep is promoting these as tasty? They're flavorless blobs of paste. And this is coming from someone who likes to eat plain raw tofu by the cube. Yes, there are exceptions; I count limas as vegetables rather than beans because they have that strong cabbage-y smell and flavor, just like broccoli and cauliflower and I like all of those. And a few dishes have squeaked by my radar; that black-bean-and-corn-and-pepper-and-spicy-o
This post will either generate a host of "no, really, these are good" bean recipes or opinions on goldfish bestiality. I welcome both.