Random Thought Thread

My wife (Jane, his wife) makes the best damned apple pie ever to grace the table of man. I like it better than my mother's, or my mother-in-law's, or either of my grandmothers', though it draws from all of them. My dad liked it better than his mother's, or any of his ex wive's (or his ex wives). Jane's apple pie is the most sacred (culinary) blessing of thanksgiving. Y'all can argue and be wrong all you want.
 
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My wife (Jane, his wife) makes the best damned apple pie ever to grace the table of man. I like it better than my mother's, or my mother-in-law's, or either of my grandmothers', though it draws from all of them. My dad liked it better than his mother's, or any of his ex wive's (or his ex wives). Jane's apple pie is the most sacred (culinary) blessing of thanksgiving. Y'all can argue and be wrong all you want.
This sounds like me describing my wife’s apple pie. Which, by the way, she doesn’t like.
This on the surface makes no sense.
How do you make a heavenly food you don’t like?
“Cook with love.”
 
This sounds like me describing my wife’s apple pie. Which, by the way, she doesn’t like.
This on the surface makes no sense.
How do you make a heavenly food you don’t like?
“Cook with love.”

Jo makes the best collard greens I've ever experienced. Hell I don't even really like other collard greens very much. But Jo's are heavenly. And she doesn't eat them.
 
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