It's advertised as free of oil because the fat will drips down a tray below. An oven can do that too.
It's a fucking consumerism capitalistic marketing product created to sell more ovens because oven lasts fucking forever and/or are baked into the kitchen counter. (pun intended)
My ma is really excited to use the new air fryer she bought. It's even less convenient than an oven. You have to clean the whole ass big fucking oil tray below and the grill. And you still have to clean the fryer from times to times just like a normal oven. The food cooked in there is dry as heck cuz the air and heat circulation is not as good as an oven.
Im fucking salty yes. Cuz she won't admit she (and our family) is suffering bc of it.
I was thinking, the fact that Tumblr is barely functional is exactly why it is the safe place for all the nerds and dorks.
I mean, you gotta have some kinda patience and resilience and curiosity to be able to survive here more than 2 days. Basic folks aint gonna last for 10 mins here cuz it it very impossible to do a lot of things here.
i warned my bf right when we begin dating that I am an emotional mess, and i literally felt in to 2 consecutively emotional breakdowns in 2 consecutive days after that.
The world has now been in order, more so than ever before. I stand put in line as anyone else supposed to be, with our knees under water. This place used to be a stadium, but after The Endless Blessing (The longest rain in humanity’s history), half of it has turned into discipline pool.
The chubby kid next to me seems calm, however the shivering, lifeless woman on my left is not.
The officer has arrived with each step light as a feather, but a feather of a hawk as it falls to the hard concrete ground, echoing sternness and authority even more so in the silenced crowd.
The officer wears a cotton white shirt and a cool black suit pants, looking ordinary but not too humble to be mistaken as a low ranked kiss-ass man in the lowest chain of command. He has a constant smile on his face, but not in his eyes.
I used to know that smile.
He used to smile like that when we were training together under the sun. It was warm as the sun and calm as the river. His eyes were proud and soft. The sun is harsh in the summer days, but it was going easy on us, just for us.
Standing there on top of the crowd, his eyes is even colder than the steel from which our training swords were forged, and still as those of a gargoyle.
.
After a “parade” of completely unnecessary training exercise orders and silent threats to test how far his ridiculous power can extend and oppress any harboring ideas to rebel against him and the system, he moves on to the next phase of the domination: Elimination.
We were tortured mentally more so than physically, even now. He seems to enjoy making it up as he go, a game after a game, carried out by his minions, to pick out one winner of the death prize for each game.
I dared myself to look straight at him in the eyes, the distance is just a few lines of people. It is no doubt that he can spot me in the crowd, nevertheless he decides to ignore me or not I do not know.
His eyes were giving off a faint cadmium orange aura, just enough to thinly veil the brilliant black iris underneath. I knew he was under their influence. Not so secretively, I put my hands together and pray that this will be one of those troupe in the movies where the hero manages to break off from the geas put on by villain forces and redeem himself.
He put his hand around my shoulder, looking at me with a soft small and his eyes squinting lightly like he always does, and said
"Your black sugar boba pearls were so good, when will you make it again?"
I smile and said nothing to brush it off like I always do, as a coward a I am, as a way of saying that thank you for liking it politely, as a way to express my gratitude without revealing my unquenchable feelings for him.
