by Troy Johnson
Kombucha Is the Grossest Thing I’ve Ever Loved
The first time I tried it I was skeptical. First of all, hippies like it. Hippies have great taste in ethics and camping gear. They do not have great taste in music or food. They focus too much on nuts and essential oils, too little on bacon and essential donuts.
by Troy Johnson
My Experience on a Bomb-threatened Plane
I’m stuck in a metal box 10,000 feet in the sky and there might be a bomb under my seat. I’m somewhat surprised I’m not freaking out. I’m not sweating. There’s pride in that. I would’ve pegged myself for more of a pants-wetter in crisis situations.
By Troy Johnson
Dear Kale
For instance, you look prehistoric and rather badass. Or do you just look like chard with warts? And the fact that you’re hard to chew. That’s cool. Everyone likes a challenge. Spinach is like eating smooth jazz, both easy and breezy. Eating you is like gnawing on tin foil made of lizard hide. Taking down an entire kale salad is like an awesome physical test I didn’t fail because mom forgot to pack my inhaler
by Troy Johnson
Look Your Food in the Eye
I stare at the fish. It stares back. It’s still gasping. My instinct is to take my beer glass and hit it over the head. Finish the job. Or I could just refuse the dish, saying, thank you chef but no thank you, serial killer ***hole.
Illustration by Brett Affrunti
Dear Chargers, It’s Over
You had a disco theme song that sounded like a cover band’s version of a cover band’s version of KC and the Sunshine Band. It was awesome. As a kid I had a Chargers ring. It was made of tin or lead or fossilized tears of fans. It was my most treasured possession. We had some great times. But mostly, living with the Chargers in your heart is like rooting for Job to win the Bible.
Are You a One-Star Diner?
At the DMV, we’re forced to sit in hard plastic school chairs for three hours among the fermented scent of humanity only to be told rudely once it’s our turn that we don’t have the correct paperwork for it to be our turn. And yet we slough it off. We expect it. Not at restaurants, though. Slowly delivered zinfandel is ****ing personal.