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February 15, 2016
I want a fridge that says Life is Under Control.
When wife wants to scoop up a week's worth of yogurt to take to work, it is there. Should I need pickles, they are there, but they do not play a prominent role. The freezer compartment is where the important goods are stored, of course - there is The Meat. The Chicken. The Bread. Emergency Ravioli. Yes, there are French Fries in the dreaded half-bag state, but they are secured by rubber bands. Yet still they shed. The bottom of the freezer has crumbs. Crumbs lead to suffering. LILEKS (James) :: The Bleat 2016
Posted by gerardvanderleun at February 15, 2016 12:29 PM. This is an entry on the sideblog of American Digest: Check it out.
Your Say
We're 60-year married octagenarians. Two large reefers and a mid-size freezer. Never enough room in any of them. Wife's a gourmet cook they say. I just eat whatever is put in front of me.
Posted by: BillH at February 15, 2016 2:00 PM
I put in front of me whatever I want to eat.
Posted by: ghostsniper at February 15, 2016 6:33 PM