Politics, religion ... what else?

Charcoal vs. gas grills

 

I don't mind a little back and forth on anal sex. I just don't like to talk about it with Boots.

 

As a fan of the Black-Eyed Peas, your brother doesn't sound smart enough to talk let alone tap out a text message.

 

She's got a couple amazing instruments, if you ask me.

 

Maybe I hang out with teachers too much (of course, I'm married to one), but I look for cover when issues such as school funding, inclusion of special education students in regular classrooms, or charter schools are brought up at a dinner party.

The cover I usually find is in a gold can labeled "Coors."

 

Which reminds me...

Fake vs. Real
Tats
Smoking

 

Motorcycles

 

Thanksgiving 2009, my sister tried to stab my mother with an ice pick over the correct spelling of bruschetta.

In my family, it's easier to list the things we CAN talk about:
--Ice cubes ('How wonderful that you would go to the store to buy such a big bag of ice cubes, dear, in my day we would chop the ice off a big block with Papa Yossel's ice pick, has anyone seen Papa Yossel's ice pick?')
--Pizza (The Thick or Thin debate, as it relates to lactose intolerance and di. uh. ree. uh.)
--Bottled water vs tap--('Dear, just a little sip from the tap for me, I really don't know what you girls do with all these fancy bottles, although if you save them we could make such a wonderful bowling contest after dinner, do you like to bowl, 21? Does your Boom bowl? He looks like he might bowl, although do they even make a ball for fingers that large? Do all his people have such large fingers, 21? I can't recall his mother's fingers, such a lovely lady, will you be going there for ham again this year on Easter? Just a little sip from the tap, thank you dear...')
--Spoons. Still haven't found an argument with spoons, other than who can hang a spoon the longest off their nose, Emmah or Lou, and should Emmah get a head start on account the size of Lou's nose.


As for Christina A, great pipes, lousy performance.

 

Baseball. All of baseball.

 

Thanksgiving several years back one of my cousins kept talking about how she loves Fromaggia cheese.

She kept saying it over and over again and we were all rolling our eyes at the way she was overpronouncing it, FRO-MAGG-IA.

One of my other cousins said, "Stop pronouncing that word like you're some country club (c-word, although she actuallly said the word). They had to be separated.

To be fair, I think most of us were on the side of the cousin who called her the c-word.

 

Perhaps the most offensive part is the redundancy of saying formaggio cheese.

 

Ha, can't wait for the day my sister drops that one at the dinner table.

She had worked all afternoon on this bruschetta, altho, I don't know, you chop up some tomatoes (tomahtos?) and toss 'em down on old bread, how hard can it be. I could be wrong.

'Anyone want brushetta?' she asked.
Mother ruffles herself into full peacock mode. 'Dear, in Italia we say broosketta,' and she gives a deep wave of the pinky, as if she's Queen fucking Margherita of Savoy.
'Yeah, well here in Cook County we say brushetta. And it's all over Lou's tie.'
'Broosketta, (pause) dear....when I was there with your father in 1973, I completely remember the waiter sayi....(RRRRRRRRRRRRR as sister flips on blender to drown out rest of story, leaves it on for 10 minutes......) so I know for a FACT it is pronounced broosketta!'