Spiciness is the measure of your manliness. If you can't handle spicy, you are not a man. End of story.
Also, if you get really spicy food, then you've got an excuse to take it with Ranch, and that is manliness waiting to happen.
Spiciness is the measure of your manliness. If you can't handle spicy, you are not a man. End of story.
Also, if you get really spicy food, then you've got an excuse to take it with Ranch, and that is manliness waiting to happen.
Bring on the heat, I love it.
There's this one Taquería in LA that has the hottest salsa rojo. It hits you like a ton of bricks. The spicinesses of it searing through your throat and into your stomach. Then comes the sweating, the red faces, and for me, the inability to keep from waving my hands frantically. As if that'll help with anything.And then it passes, and god damn, you're ready for more!
I kinda get a thrill everytime I introduce people to this hot sauce. There's always this, "yeah yeah, I can handle hot stuff, quit hyping it up" sorta feeling. But the hot sauce never fails to bowl people over with it's flavor and intensity. It's addictive, I tell ya.
I put Dave's Insanity Sauce on everything, and then I breathe fire![]()
I like spicy food that has good taste, but I dont like it when the food is spicy just for the sake of being spicy.
Kefka's coming, look intimidating!
Have a nice day!!
Can't beat a good curry.
The messenger is standing at the gate
Ready to let go
Ready for the crush
Too late for whispers
Too late for the blush
The past is mercy
When the future is aglow
I love my food spicy. I was positively surprised about the fact that they used a lot of chilli in China. So delish! (The hot pot was way too spicy, though. It left all of us with the ring sting for at least 2 days after) Here in India it's mostly curry, which can also be spicy, but in a different way of course.
as long as I have some water I'll be ok![]()
You hold my heart in your manly hands I wanna feel the throb of your handsome gland. I wanna hold you tight like a newborn kitten, against my flesh like a cashmere mitten. Tickly tick, I'm makin' skin bump heaven and all the way down it's lookin' cleanly shaven. Prickety pricks, it's stubble on stubble I better slow down or I'm in real trouble. Want you, touch you, feel you, taste you! Knick knack whacky whack 'till I see the man stew. spin you around let me see that hole! I'm a tunnelin' in a like a short hair mole. Once I'm inside I'm gonna leave a trace, half in there and half on that face! One finger, two finger, there fingers gone! Mano a mano I love you John!
I love it.
I went to a chicken wing fest one time with all these different vendors and there was to be a hottest sauce contest later, so we went around to all the vendors and requested their "contest sauce". All of them were pretty damn hot, but one guy was holding out on us because he only could make a small amount of sauce, specifically for the contest, because the ingredients were too expensive to make too much of it. We eventually pestered him into giving us some, prefacing it with "Don't touch your eyes or your Johnson". We eat them. 5 minutes later, my friend has his head buried in a garbage can, hurling it out because his stomach simply rejected it. As I'm laughing at him and feeling superior, I brush my eye with my hand. I didn't know pain could exist in that capacity until that moment. And that is my best spicy food story. At least I didn't touch my Johnson.