I am not native here. Displaced, uprooted, inclement. Barriers compound and snowball, making the ideals of ‘thriving’ – a distant oasis. Hurdle after hurdle. I run and jump. I trip. Abraded wounds crust into scabs…
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I was a frat boy in a past life, for sure. I have absolutely no doubt about this. A competitive spirit bolsters the bygone seasons of unrivaled beer pong tournaments, milk guzzling acrobatics and wet…
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There I stood. Alone in the kitchen. No one home. No one to see (except the loyal, nonjudgemental eyes of the blog dogs). I drank it. I slurped with a titillating enervation composed solely in…
View PostThere I stood. Alone in the kitchen. No one home. No one to see (except the loyal, nonjudgemental eyes of the blog dogs). I drank it. I slurped with a titillating enervation composed solely in…
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I’m so chicken shit, I can’t even cut down a live Christmas tree. Last year, The Cuban had to chop down a dead one, because I couldn’t see myself “taking a life.” A real, live…
View PostI’m so chicken shit, I can’t even cut down a live Christmas tree. Last year, The Cuban had to chop down a dead one, because I couldn’t see myself “taking a life.” A real, live…
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I know I have an RBF. What I didn’t learn until yesterday was that I have a RBA: Resting B* Attitude. Apparently. But it was with utter, distant, unequivocal obliviousness that I exhibit this trait.…
View PostI know I have an RBF. What I didn’t learn until yesterday was that I have a RBA: Resting B* Attitude. Apparently. But it was with utter, distant, unequivocal obliviousness that I exhibit this trait.…
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I bought 45$ worth of filet mignon from Costco last week and hadn’t the slightest idea of how they would meat their destiny. (Get it? – Little beef joke there). It’s winter here, and when…
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Welcome to Open Plate Anthropology. I’m Alexa, creator of this site based on a serious disease progression - my unrelenting obsession with food and travel. It’s lust actually. Food lust.
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