|
|
#31
10-21-2014, 07:00 AM
|
|||
|
|||
surstromming and anything else
|
|
#32
10-21-2014, 10:46 PM
|
|||
|
|||
|
My father was a real child of the Depression -- He could not bear to waste anything, especially food. I remember one day sitting around the table after lunch, having ice cream with my family. We had had burgers for lunch and there was just a small amount of ketchup left in the bottle on the table. My mother got up and decided to throw the ketchup bottle away. "Don't do that!" my father shouted. "We can still use that!" Then he proceeded to put the last drops of ketchup on his ice cream. I never got over that.
One night in college, I was smoking a lot of weed with some friends. We got really ripped and got a bad case of stoner's "desert mouth," so we went down to the vending machines in the lounge to slake our thirst with some sodas. This one machine had cans of birch beer in it, and one of my friends and I both bought a can. We no sooner popped the lids when our other friend, who had a gift for outrageous metaphor, said: "How can you drink that? It tastes like carbonated pepto-bismal." Never had a drop of birch beer since.
|
|
#35
10-25-2014, 05:31 PM
|
|||
|
|||
|
Quote:
|
