I don't know about you but my iphone is getting smarter - (it's already smarter than me!) either that, or my thoughts are becoming more transparent to the phone. It's like the iphone knows enough to know the Olympics are on TV (of course!) and that the Olympics are taking place in Sochi. The other day I was texting someone and the word Uzbek spelled out on my text screen, yet Uzbek was not typed with these fingers. WTF!? I decided to keep the word Uzbek inside the text though the text had nothing to do with the Olympics or Uzbekistan. You are responsible for what your read. I'm not forcing you to read a thing. And I think by having the word Uzbek on my phone, it gives the NSA someone else to peek in on.
I made some soup the other day. This recipe is quite versatile. I like to add fresh corn when available though usually by this time of year, if fresh corn-on-the-cob can still be found in stores - the husk is wilted, browned-tipped from months of exposure to filthy hands, store lighting, germs (aka caca-doody) (Hannah's and my word)along with that weird thing that nearly all corn-on-the-cob purchasers do to corn-on-the-cob with husks prior to purchase -- they peel back the very top of the husk to check for the corn ear worm or some call it a corn silk worm. Like the corn worm is always so stupid - it just hangs out at the very top of the cob where it can easily be seen by you, you see it and then carelessly tossed the slighly peeled corn cob back into the corn pile only to be purchased by me 7 months later for my versatile soup.
Originally when making the soup I decided to use frozen corn. BTW, frozen is not a good substitute for fresh - I don't care what the people-in-the-know say, there must be some super-wealthy, frozen corn lobbyist lurking nearby. I found and purchased some fresh (browned & wilted) corn-on-the-cob, then hand-picked each kernel of previously frozen (though by now, cooked) corn out of the existing soup, must have been a thousand smushed kernels -- then added back the 'fresh' corn I sliced off the cob sans any worm. My soup then tasted like dirty hands and old corn. And now you know what I mean by versatile.