Give me comfort

Comfort foods: mashed potatoes, macaroni and cheese, cheesecake, rice pudding, ice cream, pizza, and more. We all have our favorites and, dang it, if they just aren't the wisest food choices. Not that that stops us. Oh, no, when we want our comfort, we want full fat, loaded with calories, yummy in our tummy solace.



I had tomato soup and grilled cheese, two of my favorite comfort foods, for lunch yesterday. Mmmmmmmmm, it was incredible.

The soup must be homemade, by me or by a restaurant, I'm not that picky, but it can not be canned, no, no, no, never, never, never. It's tinny, harsh, overly salted, yuck, it ruins the whole experience. I'd rather go without. But back to the good stuff. The creamier the better, overtures of roasted garlic and fresh basil are always welcome.

If your eyes tell you that's a white bread sandwich, you're right. While I try to do the right thing and go whole grain, there's just something about a grilled cheese made just like my mom made it - white bread and sharp cheddar cheese.

Tell me truly, isn't your mouth watering just looking at it?

Wacky things people do as they drive

I'm not just talking about people talking on cell phones as they drive. Or people driving with their pets on their laps, sometimes with paws on steering wheels. I don't even mean women putting on make-up, peering in the rear view when their attention should be on the road ahead of them.

Oh, no, that's peanuts compared to some of the wacky things I've seen people doing as they drive. And get this, as bad a rap as women drivers get, the craziest stunts I've witnessed have been pulled off by men.

Here's just a sampling of what I've seen.

A guy playing his trombone, with it sticking out of his open window, and both hands on the instrument. I'm guessing he was using his knees to drive. Now why on earth would he need to play as he drove? Was there no decent music on the radio?

Another time I saw a guy eating breakfast as he drove. No egg McMuffin, no donut, no granola bar, nope, he wanted a traditional bowl of cereal. That's right, a bowl of cereal. He had the bowl balanced between chest and steering wheel, spooning the cereal with his right hand, driving with his left. I guess I should be glad he had one hand on the steering wheel. Can you imagine the mess on his lap and in his car if he came to a sudden stop or had to turn abruptly? With as many food choices made for eating on the run, why did he go with cereal?

Just the other day, I saw a woman brushing her teeth, going at it like mad, frothing at the mouth. I pointed it out to hubby and asked, "Where will she spit?" He said, maybe she'd swallow it. Ewwwwwww, not to mention how unhealthy it is to swallow fluoride. All I kept thinking was, hasn't she heard of gum?

I must be conventional (or safety minded) but it would never occur to me to try anything even a fraction as crazy as any of the things I've seen others do while driving.

comb my egregious oyster

That was the subject line of a spam email I received today. Total nonsense, of course, as are the majority of spam subject lines, but this one gave me the giggles. It was more than the usual babbling non sequitur, this one sounded like a command.

"Comb my egregious oyster!" shouted Oliver, as he motioned towards the 100-gallon salt water aquarium filled with sea anemones, clown fish and countless other oceanic gems. He loved the fluidity of the tank's sea life but not the maintenance it required. That task was relegated to his overburdened assistant, Priscilla.

How about that? A spam subject title that is actually workable into a story, albeit a bad one, but still, that doesn't happen very often (a workable spam line, not a bad story. I can write those any time, anywhere).

I did wonder, however, if "comb my egregious oyster" might be a euphemism for something. I'm so out of the loop, it could be and I'd never know. Oh, well, so be it. That would give the story a little added twist (perhaps in more ways than one).

I wonder what future pearls of prose will turn up in my spam file. With luck, I'll find another that I can turn into poor fiction.