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A Pussy In Your Fridge Will Not Get You, Well, You Know…

September 22nd, 2009 | 0 comments | Posted by Jen

Many of you are familiar with our theory that performing simple, unselfish acts such as washing one’s bed sheets and cleaning the toilet will get a guy laid. Along those lines, Boing Boing guest blogger Jesse Brown wondered if a clean fridge would, too. He linked to photos of his friend Corey Mintz’s immaculate refrigerator (see below); Corey, a chef and food critic, is of the belief that pictures of clean fridges “provoke the same response in women that nude shots inspire in men,” but Jesse was not so convinced.

I’ll admit, the first photo intrigued me.

Not for the cleanliness it captured, but for the abundant presence of pickled products. I have a weakness for pickles–cornichons, Tomolives, pepperoncini, shibazuke, jalapeno rings–and, by extension, pickle-eaters. Pickles are salty, decadent, comforting, and designed to be eaten in bed. They’re the food of hedonistic people who like to binge and overindulge and do not know the meaning of self-control. Pickles, in other words, reek of sex.

But just as the first photo lured me in, the second one put me off.

It, too, contained all sorts of items that suggested exquisite excess: brown butter, coconut milk, mole, and pork fat, but that wasn’t the problem.

The problem was the Hello Kitty lettuce container. Whatwhatwhat is a man doing with a Hello Kitty food storage container? (To be fair, I would ask the same question of a woman, too.) Is it supposed to be ironic? Is it supposed to be cute? Is it supposed to convey a kind of masculine sensitivity, like “I’m so secure in my manhood that I can embrace Hello Kitty and her ineffable charms”?

At this point, you’ve lost me. I’m asking too many questions. I’m overthinking both the fridge and its owner. I’m wishing the fridge only carried sparkling water. I’m feeling like the fridge is trying too hard. I’m thinking Don Draper would never allow a Hello Kitty lettuce container in his icebox. I’m wondering how many shoegaze LP’s are in this Hello Kitty lettuce container-owning dude’s record collection that I might be forced to listen to. I’m thinking I’ll take the pickles all right…but please hold the sex.

[Boing Boing: Will a clean fridge get you laid?]
[Toronto Star: Contents of your fridge is a window to your personality]


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And Speaking of Appetite Suppressants…

March 26th, 2009 | 0 comments | Posted by Diana

My friend Chris, a brilliant comfort food chef (he once served a magnificent nine dinner courses of bacon–a life-changing, so-worth-it event that my arteries may never forgive me for) told me about a very special bread chef from Thailand this morning.

I was so intrigued by the gastronomic innovasian that I wrote a poem to describe my reaction:

This Thailand Bread
Looks like people so dead
Mostly cabezas
A treat that does faze us

Is that a heart?
Baker says that it’s art

But I’d rather see canvas

Than floured forearms and bare ass

It’s awfully gruesome
friendship with Gavin Newsom,
Like chlamydia prick

The scene makes me sick

Still, the baker, he sifts
Making these unique gifts

So that folks that bring bread

Can give wonderful head.

Here’s what I’m talkin’ about, Willis:

Uh, yuck. I’m so un-hungry now I could be an aspiring model. Jesus.

[via Inventor Spot]

Thank you x2, Chris!!

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August 28th, 2008 | 0 comments | Posted by Diana

Perhaps you spent most of college eating packets of instant ramen–we at DISGRASIAN have certainly been downing the stuff for most of our lives. Instant noodles, if they could be called anything else, should probably be called “instant comfort,” because they make you feel warm, happy, and full–how could any of us live without them?

This week, we celebrate the 50th anniversary of instant noodles, which were invented by the late and great Momofuku Ando, who passed at the age of 96 this January.

So happy birthday, instant noodles! We feel more comfortable already.

Thanks, Jasmine!

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