The Unorthodox Epicure

I’ve been accused a time (or six) of being a complainer. While I’m not ready to accept that, I do admit to griping about certain things in life that are worthy of being bitched about.

Along with my high cholesterol and blood pressure, my tendency to sweat the small things will probably shave some years from my life.

Some of my biggest day-to-day frustrations involve mustard. When I squeeze the bottle and get a couple drams of yellow-colored water — instead of the thick yellow contents — it almost ruins my day. Brown mustard is even worse.

Ketchup’s no better except I rarely, if ever, use it on a sandwich. So, no chance of soaking down the bread. One thing that really bothers me about ketchup, though, are the little packets. First, they are too damn small. And, what the hell is that syrupy goop that ends up on every third…

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