File it under... "I Wish"

I love kettle corn.

Let's be clear, I'm not referring to so-called impostor kettle corn that you can throw in the microwave and make in 3 minutes. That is not kettle corn. It might say kettle corn on the box. It might even occasionally (read: almost never) taste like the real thing, but it is decidedly not the sweet/salty snack I'm referring to. You can't pull a fast one on me, Mr. Redenbacher...if that's even your real name. I know your game and I'm here to tell you, nothing you put in a box will ever taste as good as the real deal. Real kettle corn is a glorious food; one that simultaneously raises my blood pressure, my glucose levels, and my spirits. I had a conversation with a friend last night about how regular popcorn, no matter how good, is never as delicious as it smells. This is not the case with kettle corn. In short, kettle corn is perfection.

And the point to all this?

I just think that if, by some miracle of modern science, we were ever able to choose a default flavor for our saliva, I would choose kettle corn.

...

Kettle corn. Kettle corn. Kettle corn.

File it under... "The Contemporary New Yorker's Guide To Not Being An Asshole"

Dear New Yorker,

If I am standing on the subway and I can count the number of individual white deodorant flecks in your armpit hair, your armpit is too close to my face.

All the best,

Alex

PS: Thank you, however, for having the decency to wear deodorant.

File it under... "My Inanimate Life"

Hey Rasta Mop, how you feelin', mon?

Rasta Mop