Life is like a bowl of spaghetti. Every once in a while, you get a meatball.
Miracles are like meatballs, because nobody can exactly agree on what they are made of, where they come from, or how often they should appear.
I'd say I'm a good cook. I have a lot of German recipes that I can make - schnitzel, meatballs and things with cabbage. I love cabbage.
Swedish meatballs are to die for.
I've always felt that there's a very thin membrane between madness and alcoholism, and/or destitution and being an OK American guy in a comfortable heated apartment with meatballs and a decent Sauvignon Blanc in the fridge.
