

Yess so you go into the stall and grab some shit tickets so you don’t have to touch the door handle and then Ooop they didn’t put a trashcan anywhere near the door.
I understand not everyone is gonna shell out for a hook so you can operate the door with your foot, but at least put a trash can in throwing distance of the door so I don’t have to touch the nasty ass handle with my clean hands.





Whoever correctly observes that I am the sole member of the human species that can correctly prepare this damned beast into something decadent and delicious gets their first choice of cuts after my wonderful partner gets a leggie (it’s his favorite).
I’m even so generous and benevolent that I’ll save you the keystrokes of asking how such a feat is possibly accomplished.
Homemade yolk-only herbed mayonnaise under the skin, spatchcocked and roasted high (like 425°-450°) on a raised rack until the thickest part of the thigh reads 150°, tenting the skin with foil if it looks like it’s browning too much. It’ll come to 165° as it rests, don’t you worry.