Le Saigon is my go-to Vietnamese. Restaurant, not person.

Lightening fast service, super fresh and tasty food, great prices.

The best part is that we’ve been coming there for so long, they know our orders by heart and even remember I like an extra side of basil!


Now that you’ve all fallen asleep, let’s get to the real meat of this blog posting.

It’s five in the morning and God knows why I’m up writing this when the time would be much better spent restlesslly tossing and turning.

I was thinking recently about all the gross things that we encounter in our daily lives which we freak out about.

And all equally nasty situations which we placidly ignore.

Let’s take the public restroom.

If we see something horrid left behind in the toilet or on the seat (or creatively smeared on the wall) we crunch up our face in disgust, utter a profanity under our breath and take action.

However men, every time you use the urinal, pee droplets splash back onto the front of your pants.

By the end of the day, your pants are practically soaked in your (and strangers’) urine and it’s not like we’re tossing those puppies in the wash as soon as we get home.

(Everyone knows that most men do not wash their pants until a visible stain/mark appears)

This is the reason our pets love to play in the laundry basket!

Touching door handles is another act I’m a freak about. Growing up, Grandma would have severed my hand slowly with a hot poker (or Hot Pocket) had I touched a handle and then dare go anywhere near her!

So, it’s always amusing to see people touching them, ad nauseam. Especially after washing their hands…Um…washing negated, folks. Go, try that again, dummies.

I’ll admit, you’re in a tough situation when you’re up against a paperless restroom or are NOT wearing a long sleeved shirt.

In those cases, you must realize that your hands have now been sufficiently soiled, necessitating immediate Purell useage.

If you’re not an avid hand washer, just think of the grotesque buildup on those grubby apendages as you forage for hidden treasures in your facial orafices.

Don’t even get me started on the bottoms of shoes….