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Joined 1 year ago
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Cake day: July 5th, 2023

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  • 1999 - Taco Bell nachos did me in, never ate there or at any Taco Bell ever again.

    2004 - Some sushi joint outside of Tacoma, WA, I had the shrimp tempura. Nothing tasted off, but that was my first experience with it coming out of both ends at the same time.

    2005 - I was an idiot that thought, for God knows what reason, that the floor of the trailer I called home at the time while stationed in Iraq would remain cold enough to keep a can of Fritos dip cool after I opened it (we did not have a fridge). I was very very wrong and paid the price later the following evening after finishing the dip that day, and that was my second experience with it coming out both ends at the same time. I know it was my own fault, but I still can’t eat those dips to this day.

    Fast forward to 2020 - 2023, something is making me randomly ill on a monthly, sometimes weekly basis. I eat a regular meal, 30 minutes later I’m in the bathroom with horrible cramps and shits. It took me nearly 3 years to figure out that I’d become lactose intolerant due to age (this is apparently a common occurrence as you get older). Haven’t had any issues now that I know to avoid most dairy, but I can immediately tell if I’ve unknowingly ingested some, because it feels like I’ve been poisoned 15 minutes into consuming it. Then comes the frantic race to swallow as much Lactaid and lactase pills as I can to calm the storm before it can reach my intestines.


  • My partner hates cooking, and I love it, so the deal in our house is I cook and they do all the cleaning in the kitchen, unless I made something specifically for me, since they have some medical issues that prevents them from eating certain things, then I will do the cleaning of the mess made during the preparation of cooking that specific meal.

    As far as cooking from scratch or pre-made, I’m about half and half. I rarely make my own red sauce or pasta, but all baking is from scratch, breakfast foods like pancakes, yes I would make those from scratch as well. Soups, stews, chili, Asian, Mexican, Indian recipes, mostly from scratch, but many sauce elements I would buy.



  • When I was deployed to Iraq my platoon ran the post office on the FOB, and one of the jobs we all had was going through packages that other soldiers were mailing home to make sure everything they wanted to send was safe/legal to ship. There were several instances where I had to go through footlockers that belonged to soldiers who were killed (their belongings get mailed back to their family once the family has been properly notified; the shipments are handled differently/tracked differently than regular mail). It always fucked me up to go through someone’s stuff, knowing they were now dead. Like, you get this little window into their lives: pictures of their family, CDs of the music they liked, books they were reading, all that shit, but then you see the bookmark in that book where they left off and you realize they’re never going to finish it, just little things like that that were hard to process, whether you personally knew that soldier or not.

    But then it gets even more fucked up because weeks and sometimes months after they were killed, they’re still getting mail from people in the states that sent it way before that person was killed, so now you have stacks of letters and packages and post cards for a dead person that they’re never gonna get, and the post cards are filled with “I love you and miss you” etc etc, and it kinda crushes your soul a little bit, because you have to go through it all just like the footlocker and ship it all back to the family.







  • Yup, exactly. It just seems like there’s no time to relax when you have kids, you always have to be “on”.

    I used to take a bus home from work, and a woman that lived in my apartment took the same bus, so we always ended up walking into the building together. I’ll never forget that EVERY time when she opened her apartment door, you could hear two little kids yell “MOMMY!” the second that door was opened. Maybe some people love that, but to me it always filled me with a sense of dread and exhaustion. Here was this woman who just spent a full day at work and now she has to come home and essentially start her second job of being with her kids, who of course want all her attention. I felt horrible for her, and it wasn’t like she was skipping home all happy to see them, either.