We all had "Mom is tired of your shit" night, yes? It was also called Sloppy Joe Night. That weekly or monthly event when she plopped a pound of ground beef into a pan and poured some sauce on it, stirred it up and threw a bag of Mrs. Baird's buns at your face and made herself an old-fashioned. No? Just me? Man, I miss being a kid. Not because I didn't have bills, debt or a crunchy sound in my knee; I miss it mostly because Sloppy Joe Night was a thing. And it was a magnificent hour of totally acceptable greaseface and the 7-year-old version of a total gut bomb. And Family Matters was still on. And Crystal Pepsi was just around the corner. And Jessie Spano was still a feminist and hadn't become a stripper yet. It was a simpler time.
Recently, I heard (hearing being the critical, operative sensory ability in this case) a commercial for Manwich. It's probably been on for months, but I'm a little behind on well... everything. (Michael Jackson died!?) Much to my girlish delight, my ears detected the narrator of all the dreams that I neglect to mention to the boyfriend: Mr. Ron Swanson.
Also known as Nick Offerman, but probably just to his parents.More »