Somebody Call Pesto Corntrol!

Been doing any travelin' this summer, y'all?

Perhaps you've heard of the m e g a b u s?
Massive. Blue. Double-decked.

Filled to the brim with uncomfortable looking strangers ?

Just pretend like you're asleep.

I got well-acquainted with the m e g a b u s this summer.
Blinded by the prospect of cheap travel, I booked myself an 8$ round trip to Mobile, AL.

I was so proud of myself.

I was going to meet all kinds of worldly people riding the bus. 

We'd be friends forever!

The woman in the seat next to me was wearing thick purple socks over her shoes.

She was working on a journal entry titled "25 Ways to Kill Your Lover"

It was exhaustive.

Folks, I didn't make any friends on the m e g a b u s that day.

On the ride home, I sprawled across 2 seats.

Nobody sat next to me. I pretended to be asleep.

Dejected and alone, I was cheered by one thing:

I brought a baggie of Sunflower Pesto Corn Salad & ate it with a plastic Wendy's fork, 

no longer caring whether food accumulated upon my personage. Or in my teeth.

Silky Pasta

Bonjourno, y'all!

I've never had a taste for Italian food. Whenever its served, my countenance sours.
Oh. You got lasagna? Perhaps I could eat some old leftovers from your fridge? 
What did you have yesterday? Meatloaf?


Isn't Italian food just a delivery system for butter & cheese? 
...
What?

"No!", you say? "What about the vino", you wonder? "Polenta is basically grits", you'd remind me? "Surely you eat arrosticini fairly regularly?" you'd marvel?

Well, Grand Inquisitor, riddle me this.
It'd stump even Bilbo Baggins himself, I wager.

How do you explain the Olive Garden???

Oh, you can't? That's what I thought.

Folks, I know Olive Garden is not the only eatery proffering Italian-American fare. 
I am aware of the possibility that Olive Garden is not authentic Italian food.

I don't care. (I still don't want to eat Italian-style food okay.)

But there is one thing that really gets me jazzed about eating (anything) & that one thing is FREEBIES.

Man oh man do I like free shit.

One of the many personality traits I share with Oprah.

So when one of my brother's friends was moving out of his apartment, and inexplicably throwing his pantry out, I scored some egg noodles.

They had an Italian flag printed right on the box. "Made in Italy," they taunted me. 
Those noodles sat in my pantry forever. Well past the recommended use by date. 

Finally I used some of them last night.
I'll be dratted if I didn't enjoy those egg noodles down to the last bite.

I even ate an extra noodle I found while cleaning out my colander later that evening.