A list of all the awful foods I've eaten while smashed could fill twice the space I'm allotted here. Sometimes the damage is self-inflicted. Beer-soaked grad-school nights often ended with a microwaved concoction I dubbed the Nachos of Death. I'll spare you a detailed description. The microwave in question belonged to my girlfriend: She did agree to marry me — though not until several years after the nachos'... More >>>