"Excuses are the nails that build the house failure."

Paul Bunyan's Beard

Looks Like Your Time Has Expired.

Looks Like Your Time Has Expired.

I want to play a game.  Relax, this activity doesn't involve creepy clown dolls rolling around on tricycles.  Head on over to your refrigerator.  Don't just stare at the damn thing.  Open 'er up.  Now, I'd like you to focus on the contents lining the door.  Take a closer look.  How many of those pretty little vessels carry an expiration date that's waaaay past its prime?  I'm absolutely certain the number is well above the 50% mark.  If you tell me I'm wrong then take any one of those bottles, guzzle down the contents, and send me the video of you completing the act.  Liar.

How?  Why?  The door is the first thing we whip open when venturing into that cool cabinet of magic.  Yet, without fail, we neglect everything hunkering down on those shelves that are near and dear to our hearts.  Soy sauce?  Two years gone.  Ranch?  That's not ranch any longer.  Whatever's in that bottle is the same shit they use to patch up an astronaut's suit.  Go on, pick a condiment at random and then check your fridge.  I guarantee the item you thought up is in there and the last time it was edible was when Columbus hit North American shores.  

Where have we gone wrong?  I can understand that sneaky jar of pickles hiding way in the back of the main shelf, blocking your view of the cooler settings.  What I can't wrap my head around are the dates of fallen soldiers lining my door.  It's like a culinary cemetery.  Just a bunch of passed away souls, their expiration dates posted blatantly across their "tombs".  Here lies Mayo.  He lived his life to the fullest and brought a smile to the face of every sandwich he ever spread himself across.  May he rest in peace.  Tragic.

We must remember the refrigerator door.  There's just too much forgotten goodness that lies within.  Perhaps we should hold an annual 5K walk for our beloved dressings.  Seems like everyone's doing it these days.  That should stir the masses.  Let's ramp up some marketing.  The Refrigerator Door Contents 5k....Use It Or Lose It.  I'll hammer through that event like a bull in a china shop.  The bull would taste better with some A1 smothered over its carcass and that china needs a reason to go into the dishwasher.  Let's march for the sauce.

Fight the expiration.  Embrace the refrigerator door.

Night kids.

Diana Ross.

Diana Ross.

Turns out that John Denver WASN'T Full of Shit....

Turns out that John Denver WASN'T Full of Shit....

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