Cabbage

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Cabbage: (n) a cultivated plant eaten as a vegetable,

Cabbage, while cooking, smells like farts.

Since this is true, one should not be surprised that consuming such a concoction should continue the fart-smelling process all the way through your body. Matter of fact, your house will smell like farts for days after cooking and digesting cabbage.

Another insight: cabbage is one of those vegetables that only tastes good if it’s cooked to a certain level of tenderness–or if the head has a slight sweetness to it.

How are you supposed to find that out?

I suppose you could break off a little piece in the grocery store and chew on the raw leaf. I’m not going to do that.

And so, because it is difficult to prepare, quickly becomes mushy, and the more it’s overcooked the more bitter it tastes, it’s just best to wait until some professional cooks it for you.

Otherwise, you will have fart smell in your house, fart smell in your body, and wonder if it was worth it in the first place.

 

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Brouhaha

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Brouhaha: (n) a noisy and over-excited reaction or response

In a grocery store that only offers vanilla ice cream, strawberry seems radical. So for a brief season, the introduction of this particular flavor stimulates great interest and conversation.Dictionary B

But the human race, being what it is, soon tires of two flavors. So here comes peppermint, followed a few days later by Rocky Road, then Caramel Twist and Bubblegum, as the progression of varieties increases at a furious rate.

In no time at all, Burt Baskin and Irv Robbins get together and say, “If 10 flavors tweak their fancy, just think what 31 would do…”

Pretty soon we have more flavors of ice cream than we could ever experience, and spend much time defending our own personal predilection.

So what was once a snack, or even a delicacy, becomes a source of conflict as people argue furiously in favor of their favored concoction.

Soon we forget it’s just ice cream.

It becomes an issue of pride–maybe even a symbol of patriotism or eternal salvation.

Once matters are blown out of proportion, we need to continue to blow into them to justify why they became so large in the first place.

In no time we find ourselves arguing over the art of debate, exchanging facts based upon our interpretation of available statistics.

We might even conjure a lie or two, suggesting that Devil’s Food Cake ice cream literally is.

I seriously doubt if anyone would disagree that we have become a nation which favors the brouhaha over consolation.

It should be no surprise that this has occurred–considering we are also a country that thinks judging people is religion, dieting is nutrition, reading books is education … and watching a football game is exercise. 

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Affectation

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Affectation: (n) behavior, speech or writing that is artificial and designed to impress: e.g. the affectation of a man who measures every word for effect

Carlotti loved women with a burning passion that seared his soul with a fire of desire over the fabulous feminine flowers that paraded before him. It was a concoction of tenderness mingled with a ferocity of energy that at times made him feel as if he would be of danger to a young maiden, yet greatly relieved when only pleasure came her way.

Although he felt this bursting exuberance for all the daughters of Eve, it was Darnella, the Lovely, who was the center of his attention, and a fuel to his consuming fire.

Complicating his drive and vigorous vitality was the fact that he was a vampire, so blended with his gentle touch was the uncontrollable desire to not only smell, feel and embrace the object of his affection, but also … to taste it.

But an additional grumbling and growling deep within the confines of his inner being was the awareness that because of an inter-marriage generations back in his family, he was also a werewolf.

How could he take the fragile Darnella and possess her with the entire magnitude of his virility without endangering her with the violence of the wolf?

Carlotti was a man possessed and obsessed at the same time. Nothing could keep him away from his Darnella. He desired to absorb her–not just for now, but for all eternity.

Ladies and gentlemen: affectation.

Or better phrased, a sampling of 21st Century American Literature.

Additive

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by J. R. Practix

dictionary with letter A

Additive: (n.) a substance added to something in small quantities, typically to improve or preserve it: e.g. many foods contain chemical additives.

I am an additive.

I have never been the main substance or the primary focus in my entire life.

I have come upon a political system where I neither fit in nor agree and can only disperse granules of my feelings into the concoction.

I am part of a religious system which is encumbered by its own lack of essentials, and I attempt to stir in my flavor and saltiness to produce a better brew. But is there a vanity in proclaiming that my additive will make it a better brew? I don’t know that for sure.

For instance, when making a cup of coffee, since I don’t really care for the “squeezing of the bean” in the first place, I find that I prefer the additives to the original concept. In other words, creamer and sweet ‘n low are to my taste, whereas I tolerate the coffee.

Let’s be candid. I am not alone here. Anyone who tampers with the “original black gold” is admitting that the additives are possibly more appealing than the caffeine blend.

What would we do without additives (although they certainly have a bad reputation)? Matter of fact, we like to advertise that our particular rendition of something is “pure” because it’s free of additive.

Our politics is completely Republican, with nary a nod for the teeming masses.

Our Democratic Party is one hundred per cent liberal, castrated of ANY conservative values.

We will not allow additives, so as to make sure that we are offering the purest product possible.

So you see my dilemma. I am an additive. I come along and try to sweeten, smooth, flavor, enhance and even color the broth of humanity, to make us all more palatable to each other.

Purists must hate me.

Those who like a good mug of joe probably despise my artificial sweetener.

I don’t care.

Additives in and of themselves are not evil as long as they don’t give you cancer or take away the power of the original concept but instead, make it more palatable. They are not only precious, but I will go so far as to say–necessary.

We could use some additives:

I would like a little courtesy with my human interaction.

I would like a bit of smile with my faces.

I would like a dose of humanity with my spirituality.

And I would like a little spirituality within the Politick of the Body Earth.

So being an additive, I am an advocate of such inclusion. Just make sure it won’t kill you … and it just might bless you.