There are so many things I miss so much about baseball. I miss the deep breath the crowd takes in when the shortstop throws the ball a little too softly to second on a double play. I miss the way a pitcher throws over to first so obviously that the runner is diving before he even lets go of the ball. I miss the snap of the catcher’s glove echoing through a packed stadium as the team closes in on a win. What I do not fucking miss at all is watching my favorite players absolutely deteriorate when asked to bunt.
Read moreAuthor: Kelsey McKinney (page 1 of 1)
I’ve spent no less than one trillion years this quarantine thinking about, worrying about, and ethically debating amounts. How much toilet paper do two people really need? If you only go to the liquor store every two weeks, should you also pick up a bottle of wine at the grocery store even though you don’t have a car and will have to carry the heavy wine back to your apartment? Do you buy two bottles of wine? Is it unethical to buy two bags of flour even though you haven’t seen all-purpose flour in weeks and your fellow citizens might need some? And of course: how much pot is the right amount of pot?
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Last year, this weekend, my sister and I made seven dips. This is the best weekend of the year for dips and we would not be stopped. We made guacamole, layered bean dip, harissa hummus, and a nice labne. We planned ahead and were actually on time. When the Ginormous Football Game began, we were seated happily in front of the television.
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Mascots have a law among themselves that no one is to see them without their heads on. The person who embodies a mascot is not important; they are simply the bones necessary to make the mascot flesh. This is usually fine and acceptable, except for in this specific situation where I am absolutely convinced that the person inside the Gritty suit is hot in real life.
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Everyone knows that Big Game Sunday is the best day of the year to eat dip. There are many fancy dips–artichoke dip, onion dip, bean dip–which can be made infinitely better by adding fancy ingredients, using a recipe concocted by your favorite Instagram chef, and salting appropriately. Under absolutely zero circumstances should you engage in any of this malarkey while making queso.
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