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Its more a 'seaweed' sorta thing.

Because I'm not gonna cook two meals for one night, and I start feeling weird if I live off steak and cheese and bacon.
And wouldn't fancy doing that in any case.

Ugh, I ate too much. Imagine that.

It's not like I force anything down anyone's throat here.

I have to say, I'm extremely satisfied with how my turducken turned out.

I can't get to the leftovers because Ray apparently stuffed our refrigerator like a Jenga puzzle and I'm afraid to take anything out.

I don't treat RJ like a kid. That's why I make my own veg and he can have fried chicken with cheesy chips now.

My ex... I needed to treat him like a kid. Hell, he wasn't even capable of buying the right milk for himself because he had trouble reading the label. And I knew his spinach aversion was a completely psychological thing and I just... didn't have enough respect for him to respect that. There's a reason that relationship only lasted till I didn't even care if he'd off himself anymore.

Your posts in this thread contradict this statement.

The thing is, I don't try to conceal what I use (like I used to with said ex). I never do anymore.
I also eat anything that is put in front of me. I don't particularly like steak or minced meat or putting large amounts of cheese on random food. I'll still eat it. And cook it (which I never did in the past, for no one).

I used to be vegetarian (because my brother is and he's awesome), I've quit that because I lived in a ******* orphanage and the kids were choosing all the food and no one in that bloody house liked anything but fried chicken and pasta with onions and stuff like that. And there was no choice, we took turns choosing and then ate what was on the table, or lived off cereal. There was a period of time where I didn't eat anything but I got over it.

Okay, right, I'm used to it, and maybe it's petty of me to expect the same from others but really, it's not like I just give him vegetables every day or anything, and I'm actually making them separately whenever it's possible now. It's just awful to pick out stuff from your food, I mean, when I was little we couldn't choose what they had at the store and just ate whatever was available. And then when I grew up, we ate whatever was past its date at our own store.

Sounds like a good recipe for a heart attack. Although if that's what he wants I'm sure there are combinations of drugs or something he could take to get one, a bit more abrubt but at least that way you can plan your death.

You're the pro.

So what you're saying is, Kali can't cook. You would have better served yourself, had you kept quiet.

The pure salt amount must have corroded all taste buds except for the salt tasting ones.