Things I Learned At Brunch: Memorial Day Edition
In Canada, Queen Victoria’s birthday, which falls on May 24th, is a national holiday and it’s celebrated in a style similar to Memorial Day. The weekend nearest May 24th is sometimes called “May two-four weekend” as a joke about twenty-four packs of beer that are popularly sold in Canada and used as a tool of celebration.
The original lyrics to Little Richard’s “Tutti-Frutti” were disturbingly sexual, especially in light of situations in which the song is now played.
Meat needs to be at room temperature before grilling.
People will furiously debate the best room temperature.
Arguments can devolve pretty quickly at the brunch table, even in the presence of bacon.
People you thought were your friends can very easily fling around accusations like “Are you cold-blooded?”, ”Do you have some kind of glandular disorder?”, “Were you born in a freezer?”, and “Seriously, are you a reptile or a vampire?”
There is such a thing as “temperaturism” or being a “temperaturist.”
Splitting an Eggs Benedict with someone has little to no effect on that person’s loyalties.
Calling that traitor an “Eggs Benedict Arnold,” while childish, is probably appropriate if you find yourself in that situation.
The din of a crowded dining room provides adequate coverage for a low-grade screaming match.
When a physical fight erupts out of a pretty pointless brunch conversation, its best to just calmly and discreetly sip the rest of your mimosa… and then smash the empty glass over your opponent’s head.
Hostesses are stronger than they look.
Grapefruit juice stings your eyes, but does not hurt as badly as the tines of an oyster fork piercing your forearm.
Bloody Marys taste exactly the same with actual blood in them.
Most people don’t remember anything after even the tiniest head injury.
Tic Tacs are out of vogue.
A | A | A
Describe for us the threesome with your OKCupid hookup.
If this doesn’t become the biggest video on the Internet, then I have no faith left in humanity.
I’m about to finish up my sophomore fall of college, and friends from home are getting married and having babies and sufficiently freaking me out.
He was a perfect date. I later got drunk and hacked his phone (who uses their birth year for a password? It was 1986, by the way #teamcougar). What I found was a text to a Kristina explaining his aforementioned sex dream he’d had about her while sleeping next to me in a luxurious hotel bed.