No matter how must he wishes he was a dino, this little guy is actually made of a leafy green of some sort.
Thanks, Rachel!
A mixture of sriracha hot sauce and Hidden Valley ranch for nacho dipping, coagulated in the bowl on my counter the next morning.
I am enamored with this song. One reason is the juxtaposition of the incidents surrounding Billie Joe and the everyday actions of the family. Even with a death in the community, feet must still be wiped, biscuits must still be passed and the harvest must continue with one less worker. There’s no space for sentimentality, however, the song’s melody highlights the unspoken emotional trials of the individuals.
It reminds me of the first bit of Charlotte’s Web. Like the death of Billy Joe, the life of Wilbur creates more work for everyone. The matter-of-fact nature of farming is present in the words of Fern’s parents. They tell her, “It’s [the piglet] very small and weak, and it will never amount to anything,” and “A weakling makes trouble.” As farm life is already exhaustive any extra effort that must be spent takes its toll on the farm as a whole. Fern’s inability to understand the social rules of her community allows her to express herself in a way none of the characters in “Ode to Billie Joe” are able.
I’m picky with nachos. Donald Eugene Baker instilled in me a reverence for a good plate of cheese covered chips. Some people may be food snobs of other, hoity toity sorts, but I pay attention to nachos. Here are my criteria:
1. Every chip must adhere to the chip/cheese ratio. This means, no wimpy cheap chips with a corner of cheese. I’m not trying to eat chips. I gotta tastes that shit.
2. The cheese must be melted. If I can see the edges of a singular shred of cheese, throw it back in the oven. And I like burnt, crusty cheese on the plate and outermost chips.
3. Layering. This can be quite easily achieved by layering and playing attention to detail. Maybe layering is really a side note to no. 1 up there. Don’t just splather the expensive ingredients (avacado, olives, beans, green onions, etc.) on the top. I don’t want to be disappointed by a bunch of dry chips just as I get to the money spot of my nacho plate.
I would automatically gravitate towards this sign because it mentions my two favorite things: internet and nachos. But then I think, can they keep their promise while delivering quality?
Here is an example of bad nachos:
We ate them somewhere in the Canadian rockies. There are waaaaaay too many dry chips in there. They don’t even look like nachos! But I did come out on top in this instance, because I ate more than Chris.
just needed to test out a photo.
Hope, B.C.
Phone Charger + Shadow. Teamwork!
