Twitter Tells Me: Prime Minister Crampy, the Cheese Senorita

It’s that time again: I feel I’ve neglected the blog long enough that I harass my poor twitter followers until they tell me what to write about. It’s a good system.

MooPigMoo: Any homeopathic remedies for crazy bad endometriosis pain? Heating pad and Tylenol aren’t cutting it.

This is something my awesome Mexican dad used to do for me, and it worked. It takes about 20 minutes, but my endometriosis cramps almost totally went away. Boil about 4 real cinnamon sticks and 2 lemons, sliced in a medium pot of water. Strain the sticks and lemons out, drink the water as a tea and lay back and relax.

Tuttle88: Ive been trying to think of a question for you but I got nothing. I’m asking ppl who their fav prime minister is though

That’s an excellent question. My favorite prime minister is Margaret Thatcher. Not because I respected her hard as nails exterior and rotten to the core interior, not because I believe her revolutionary attachment to red mirrored and inspired my own feelings on the color, but because she is and probably always will be the only one I can remember. Oh wait, Winston Churchill was a PM, wasn’t he? Never mind, my favorite Prime Minister was Winston Churchill. For obvious reasons (we’re both fat).

And I know that other countries have PMs, not just England, but damned if I can remember them either.

ManagerJohn: American cheeze vs Bleu Rubber chickens VS Whoopie Cushions? something there I think

Of the multitude of cheeses I enjoy, American and Blue both fall into the “not so much” category. Yes, there are times my culinary life where no other cheese will do, but those are rare. I much prefer the subtle delicacy of a Munster, the strong yet understanding tones of the Havarti or the sharp and simple clap of the Jack. Alas, my cheese dance card is full to overflowing with healthier and less offensive cheese than American and Blue respectively. As for rubber chickens and whoopie cushions? They both have their place: outside in the trash.

AldoC81: I just got a crockpot. Write about how the fuck I’m supposed to use it. Are Mexicans even allowed to use them?

I have been told that the crockpot is the gateway to excellent foods without any effort on your part. It is the antithesis of everything Mexican children are taught about cooking. For Mexicans, in order to have good food, you must first wake up before the sun. Good Mexican food involves lots of standing, repetitive motion, multiple pots and pans, lots of mixing and cutting and sweating in a hot kitchen. Mexican mothers start Christmas dinner on Thanksgiving. No amount of preparation is too much! The crockpot, on the other hand, is a stew maker. You cut things a little bit, but not too much, you throw them in the pot and you punch a couple of buttons. Go to work, go out with friends, the crockpot doesn’t care. You do you. It does dinner. The closest this thing gets to Mexican is a batch of Fiesta Chicken. Yum.

Wotusay91: wot about us men who giveup work toB primary full time dads of little peoples (I,m a builder doing it &love it )-discuses please

I used to be pretty hypocritical about the stay at home dad thing. I would get all self-righteous when women decided to leave their careers to stay at home with kids, but I thought men doing the same thing were totally alright, admirable for doing that, even. Eventually I realized (or, more likely it was pointed out to me) that I was holding women and men to a different standard, violating the very principals I claimed to believe in. By saying that all women should hold their careers as more important than their children, I was applying my value system to someone else’s life. In truth, I have no authority to say one way or another what the right thing is for another person to do. And the older I get, the more I believe that things like career success mean fuck all when it comes to your children. My dad was never successful. In fact, he was homeless for most of my childhood. But he took the time to talk to me, and hang out with me, and make me feel cared for and important. That’s the best gift I’ve ever gotten. If you have time to be with your children, that’s an amazing thing, no matter if you’re a dad or a mom, aunt, uncle, grandma, grandpa or genderqueer 5th cousin twice removed.