Good Grief

Edward ScissorhandsDairy turns me into a bloated whoopie cushion on legs. Beef presses my autoimmune’s buttons. Gluten makes my skin feel as silky soft as sandpaper. Apples, whole almonds and chocolate make me, well, we don’t know each other well enough for that kind of talk. As for nightshades, I have my suspicions. I don’t even want to talk about wine.

When I first found out I had food allergies, I thought surely I’m on an episode of Punk’d. So what if it was 2012 and Punk’d, much like Ashton’s obnoxious trucker hats, was long over. I was still expecting Ashton to jump out from behind the curtain, with camera crew in tow, to tell me it was all a big joke and hand me an enormous piece of extra velvety red velvet cake. But nope, there was no Ashton and no cake, just a plate full of gluten-free shit pie. This news made me grieve. And it went a little something like this:  Continue reading

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Assassination by Brunch

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Graphic credit: Helen Jane Hearn

If I’ve learned one thing from Keeping up with the Kardashians, it’s that a little self-promotion never hurt anyone. With that in mind, I’d like to share my latest for Tue/Night, a little ditty about a bowl of fruit salad, some bacterial dysentery, and one of the world’s biggest pop sensations. Enjoy!

Bad Street Food Nearly Killed Me Until Celine Dion Saved my Life