IT’S ELECTION DAY, AHHHHHH, EVERYBODY PANIC.
This entire day is going to suck, friends. Polls in California (the state with the most electoral votes, at 55) close at 8pm, which is 11pm EST, which means the East Coast is probably going to have to wait the entire goddamned day to find out whether Republican Babadook has managed to pull a win out of his orange-tinted butthole.
I don’t need the stress. I need a distraction. So: food post. No one knows you like I know you, baby. Today’s Comment Diversion: What’s the weirdest thing your family—immediate family, great-grandma, your crazy uncle, etc.—does with food? I don’t mean sexwise. I don’t want to hear about that. I mean more like… well, I’ll start. My family puts butter on peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. I didn’t realize it wasn’t how the rest of the world makes them until I was in my teens, probably. PB&Js have butter. They just do. And not a thin scraping of softened butter, either, because my parents had three kids in three and a half years and they both worked, so nobody has any time to soften any damn butter.
Thin slices of butter. On the bread. Or maybe not so thin, so sometimes you’re just biting into a chunk of butter.
NORTH CAROLINA, Y’ALL.
OK, now you go. Self-recrimination and food fights in the comments. Let’s get our culinary schadenfreude on.