Not to derail the conversation, but I wonder if that’s a tortie thing? I love mine dearly, but she’s dumb as a box of hair, and she also suffers from debilitating shyness.
Anyway, my answer is my best friend. We don’t always see eye to eye, and I’d be lying if I said that sometimes she doesn’t make me crazy, but besides my husband, she is somebody I can count on without hesitation or reservation.
My message board. That is, this one.
The knowledge to stay away from GB if you are a Republican.
My Meatloaf. There have nearly been people stabbed to death via fork over the second-to-last piece.
Any chance that you’d share your recipe? I make a pretty fair meatloaf, but it could use some improvement.
I have some damn good hair.
Any hints would be appreciated. No need to give the whole recipe away. I love a good meatloaf so much.
It must be somewhat crispy on the outside and juicy in the middle. I can’t make it work at the same time. 
And of course a great tomato sauce that is baked in.
I kick ass on mashed potatoes but I can’t even reproduce The Cracker Barrel in meat loaf goodness.
My meatloaf is pretty different from most people’s. I don’t actually use tomato sauce of any kind. In 2 lbs hamburger use: 1 whole onion & one whole green pepper, processed, or diced very fine. 2/3 C Parmesan cheese, 1 C Stove top stuffing, crushed or processed fine, 1 egg, 5T French Dressing salt, pepper, garlic powder, Worcestershire sauce, to taste. Glaze with honey mustard.
Any chance of sharing your recipe Gravity Crash? I love a good strog!
Ah yes.
Many a woman has, at first meekly and then with considerably more energy when I did not object, marveled over my hair.
It’s long, thick and relatively dark. And while it’s certainly no stranger to split ends, those ends hide very well.
It’s also fairly sturdy; at last calculation, it (really, my neck) can support more than 120 pounds. I’d bet the limiting agent there is actually my neck.
My inferiority complex.
On second thought, maybe it isn’t that good.
My milkshake.
Damn right.
My husband.
Also, strangely enough, my furniture.
My dad!
My dad is like a character from a movie - he has movie star looks (he gets mistaken for Al Pacino,) he’s rich, he has extremely good taste, he is amazing at playing the piano, he dresses incredibly well, and he’s single, and he’s slept with like 600 women. He travels all over the world, for his job, and he always brings me back awesome stuff. He literally has mistresses in several different countries in Eastern Europe.
My friends are always like, “your dad is the best dad ever.” The female friends are always saying they want to fuck him. It’s been an odd experience growing up with this guy as my dad who I basically assumed is just the normal template for a dad for most of my life, and it was only when I got older that I started to realize how radically unusual this situation is.
My dad is badass!
What a beauty! I love the autumn theme.
That brings back memories. My dad worked for The World’s Second Best-Selling Commercial Jet Airplane Company for a long time, and he used to get to play with his Wang at work back in the Sixties and Seventies.
My vast array of nonalcoholic beverages for guests.
I’ve got diet soda, caffeine free soda, caffeine free diet soda, original soda, orange soda, mountain dew, water, OJ, apple juice, grape juice, grape soda, redbull, sugar free redbull, iced tea, diet iced tea, regular iced teas, iced coffee, and probably some other liquids floating around in my fridge.
I keep all my food in the freezer.
My computer keyboard
(vintage Saratoga ADB Extended Keyboard II)
My cat’s fur. Can u not feelz teh silky soft petability?
That’s nice, Doug, but Feather here is the shedding-est cat alive. She’s like Pigpen from the Peanuts cartoons, with a cloud of fur around her at all times. (For the record, she’s not shy at all. Not super bright, though.)
