Potato Ricer and Box Wine and Yelling at Teenagers Tonight I was trying to mash some potatoes, and I was having the hardest time. But then, then I remembered. The potato ricer. Ah, yes, the potato ricer. Hello, my dear. Thank you for making my potatoes so very creamy, with no lumps anywhere. Thank you for working out my arms because your handles were so hard to squeeze together. I love you potato ricer. And I love you, two glasses of wine from a box that my mom left here. And, I have a secret love that I've only shared with one other person. It is a love of driving by high schools in a big American car, such as an Impala, and shouting out, "High school rocks, you guys fucking rock, yaaaaaaahhh, teenagers are so cool whoooo!!!" over and over again while you get all sorts of strange looks and you suspect that it is all very lame, but yet, the appeal is so strong and you enjoy it so much. Ah yes, yelling out of cars at silly teenagers. That is the life for me. |