I’m a Gourmet Pepper Mill Who Doesn’t Belong at This Thanksgiving Dinner
What’s that they’re talking about now? "Where’s Aunt June’s fun dip?” The fuck is fun dip? Christ in heaven, this is Thanksgiving!
What’s that they’re talking about now? "Where’s Aunt June’s fun dip?” The fuck is fun dip? Christ in heaven, this is Thanksgiving!
Nothing good will come from yelling about whether there’s a glue spot on the plastic pear that indicates where a neighboring bunch of muscats should be adhered.
Thanksgiving is one of the few days that I can gather with my family, eat a huge plate of delicious food, and pound back six or seven glasses of gravy.
You came here to read a Les Mis-length exposition on a one-step recipe from an expert in rural boho chic.
Trent Dribbly is a gale-force wind of fresh air with his unapologetic attitude about stealing leftover food from coworkers.
Wow, Pete! You ordered a lot of food. Did you skip lunch again?
I’m so jealous of guys like you who can just sit at a table like this for hours and hours without literally moving a muscle—must be nice.
Everyone’s favorite sauce now in chip form! Hot Hot Hollandaise has a triple dose of cayenne for a thoroughly throat-scorching encounter.
We want to extend our deepest gratitude to you for believing in our potato chips. Those other people who didn’t buy our chips can go right to hell.
"Be hip to the fact that your mains won’t be served at the same time. Of course, they could be, but they won’t be."
TV food challenge? Or problem for a big ape? Test your knowledge for Meatball Madness, Bumble B. Rumble, Clever Fever, and more.
They found their secret sauce in nature, and they always said they would have to close up shop once the cave they mined it out of dried up.