Have your next toe-jam session catered

Fried chicken, foot flavor

Forget the Colonel’s eleven herbs and spices. This stuff supposedly tastes like the inside of Toru Hagakure’s socks:

At first glance, the menu at Japanese takeout chain Tenka Torimasu looks incredibly simple. They serve karaage (Japanese-style fried chicken), karaage bento boxed lunches with rice, cabbage, and potato salad, and that’s all. But there’s a hidden depth of variety at Tenka Torimasu, because of how many different flavors of fried chicken they offer.

Want teriyaki fried chicken? No problem. Neither are curry, wasabi, sweet chili, ponzu, or plum. And as this month, you can also try girls’ sole flavor.

Just to make that clear, that’s not “girls’ soul” or any other representation of the concept of youthful femininity, but “girls’ sole,” as in “this fried chicken tastes like the bottom of a young woman’s foot.”

Definitely don’t get the extra crispy.

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10 Scare Tactics Affiliate Bloggers Use About WordPress Dot Com

No one has attempted to scare me off WordPress.com; it’s not my primary site, but it has its uses, and I would not consider giving it up no matter what goofy stories I am told. If someone’s tried to scare you off, you should read what Ms Peters has to say.

Elena Peters

I love blogging. And I don’t care what platform your blog lives on, if you are a blogger, I like you. You are a special person. That is why, if you are currently hosted on a free platform, I feel the need to defend you and your decision to blog where you choose to blog.

If your current platform does not work for you anymore, that is different. And if that is the case, I want you to make an informed decision about where and why you should move to self-hosting. But please do not purchase a self-hosting package based on fear articles that hold very little truth or understanding of your own personal circumstances.

You may want to read this: 7 Scary Truths About Going Self-Hosted You Need To Know

Everyday I see in Facebook groups, some innocent blogger ask a legitimate blogging question only to be pounced on…

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Milestone approaching

It’s been almost a quarter-century since I was thirty-nine, same age as hometown homie Jack Benny, but I remember spending a lot of time thinking about being forty. So I can still appreciate this observation by Shailaja V:

When I make up my mind to learn something, I go all in. It’s almost as if this ‘learning demon’ possesses me and I fill myself to the brim with everything possible. Don’t worry, it’s a harmless creature.

I am not known for going all in. Still, at the age of 42 I got this insane idea that I ought to have my own little section of the World Wide Web, which barely existed the year I was 39. And, demonically enough, I still have it.

When a Panic Attack Strikes

I’ve had a few of these myself, and by “a few” I mean “more than anyone should have to endure.”

No Light Without Darkness

I’d finished another day at work. It had been busy, but not hectic. Nothing really memorable happened that day, it all went by in a blur as I was thinking about my evening plans.

I was going to the cinema with my mum, like we do most Thursdays. Baby Driver, my suggestion, a film I had been excited to see since I saw the trailer two months before.

I love going to the cinema, it’s always been one of my favourite things to go out for, probably one of the only ‘going out’ activities I’ll participate in. You don’t have to do anything except sit back and enjoy a film. And I love films, I could get lost in one of my favourites, they’re a form of escapism for me, and in a reality where I constantly fight with myself, I hang on to fiction.

We’d met for a coffee…

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A post-eclipse love song

“The Sun Ain’t Gonna Shine Anymore,” recorded at a Four Seasons session in 1965, was intended as a Frankie Valli solo release. It didn’t go anywhere, but the Walker Brothers, a British Invasion group who were not from Britain, not brothers, and not named Walker, topped the British charts the next year with a splendidly-overproduced cover.

Last week, we got to hear the song in a suitably bleak arrangement, courtesy of Saddest Clown Ever Puddles Pity Party.