I object to her arrogant assumption that I need to have an excuse for the person I am. I don't owe her a damned thing--not an excuse, not an apology, not a justification for my life. She can go raise her pack of brats and stay the heck out of my business.

Perpetuator here.

Well, unfortunately "my" congressperson is Paul Ryan, which makes him what--Whackaloon?

Conversely, you can easily spot someone who learned words and expressions by hearing them spoken, by their misspelling or misunderstanding of them.
"You reap what you sew", "All intensive purposes", etc.

Great. Now, in a country where it is acceptable to discriminate against the sick (not legal, but, oh, so acceptable), I am officially sick. Even though my blood pressure, blood sugar, cholesterol, and any other condition that has been tied to weight are within normal range, I am sick.

In his own words..."Hooray for the little black duck!"

His book is the first to come out under Anthony Bourdain's "Ecco" publishing imprint.

Wow, that photo looks like it could be Werner Klemperer's great-grandfather!

I have the feeding orders that my doctor gave my mom on 11/22/1963, at my
6-weeks checkup. I was started on peas, green beans, and fruit that day, in addition to my formula.
(Yes: when Kennedy was shot, I was at the doctor's office.)

I admit, my first thought was "make more pickles and jam to fill them up again?"

What guess? 847 is the first three digits of my office phone number in Lake Forest.

I'm 49. My nephew is 21. Our geekdoms just collided...