A rant about cliches, and a cliche recipe.


On my commute to work every morning, I am fortunate enough to be able to listen to a really great public radio station. I think we can all agree that most morning radio shows are the absolute worst – lots of people babbling on about pop culture nonsense, peppering their banter with obnoxious sound effects. For a long time, I wouldn’t even dream of listening to the radio in the morning – but then the adapter for my iPod/phone broke (first world problems), and because my car is, oh, 12 years old (and will continue to keep on kickin’ for a long time, knock on wood), there’s no little port where I can just plug in my iPod and let it stream without having to fiddle with the radio stations, hoping for a signal and clear feedback. Also, my car is new enough to not have a tape deck, which means I can’t hook up my new-fangled gadgets that way, either.

(This is probably entirely too much information, but please stick around – I made cookies and I’m getting to that.)

So I got tired of my (and Colin’s) CDs and decided to suck it up and just listen to the radio.

There was a pretty good college radio station that had good reception on my old commute, but once I started working at my new job, that station would crap out about .2 minutes into my drive. So I did some channel-surfing, and found a really great public radio station that plays an awesome variety of music, pipes in NPR News hourly, and even has A FREAKING TRIVIA GAME in the morning. Where you can win prizes. Ugh, I love trivia so much. And while the two morning hosts occasionally break in with some banter and weird news stories, they’re endearing as opposed to obnoxious. Like, I kind of want to be friends with them, as creepy as that sounds.

But every once in awhile, they sneak in a song that is just downright terrible. I’m not talking Tiny Tim’s “Tiptoe-Through-the-Tulips” or Richard Harris “MacArthur’s Park” terrible (sorry, Dad, I know you love it), but just something that is an insult to the musical industry – one that, unfortunately, many people might find pleasant or enjoyable. Usually I’m able to just change the station and forget about it, but it’s been a couple of weeks since I heard this song and I’m still furious about it. It’s called “I Don’t Miss You” by some guy named Sharif, and it is literally the most insipid, infuriating song I’ve ever heard. If this song was a person, I’d want to hit it in the face with a shovel, just after I finish bludgeoning every character in Something Borrowed.

Now, Sharif doesn’t have an unpleasant voice, but I’d say that’s about as far as his musical talents go. Perhaps this is an unfair assessment, as I’ve only listened to this one song of his (namely because I don’t think I can subject myself to enduring more of his banal droning), but beyond being just another young dude with a quasi-whiny warbly voice who has managed to learn how to pluck out a few notes on an acoustic guitar, his lyrics are almost comically terrible. Here, see for yourself.


The more I think about it, the more I wonder if he’s actually ever met a woman, or if he’s just living under a rock, watching terrible Kate Hudson movies and developing his understanding of the opposite gender based on tropes and stereotypes – because that’s exactly what the subject of this song is. He even admits on his own website that the song isn’t about one particular girl – which, to me, implies that he thinks we’re all Sex and the City-obsessed, Cosmopolitan-subscribing, butterfly-tattooed tofu-grazers.


Actually, no, it’s not just my assumption; he outright admits this:

“I thought it would be funny to think about the things that aren’t great about a relationship. I was sitting in my bed at 2 a.m. and this long list of things that all (um, what the actual fuck?) girls do came to me. It’s taking little jabs at girls, but it’s stuff they can laugh at too. I’m sure they’d have plenty to say about me!”

Oh, this girl does, Sharif. This girl does. Also, you’re not funny. You’re just a tool. No one is laughing.


Not even Sam. Ouch, bro.

So it’s about all the things he doesn’t like about being in a relationship: the other person’s interests, their completely harmless (and in some cases, even thoughtful) habits, compromises. Furthermore, the only things he “misses” about this fictitious female have to do with what she does for him – what she looks like, her willingness to get freaky, her affection… he doesn’t miss anything about her as a person. He doesn’t give a flying crap about her (I’d be willing to argue he doesn’t give a flying crap about women in general, as he admits to assuming we’re all exactly the same).

One thing that strikes me as being particularly ridiculous (which is saying a lot, considering the wealth of immaturity he gives his listeners the opportunity to choose from) is that he resents that she wants to – of all things – put candles in their stank-ass bathroom. The horror. I’d be willing to bet she didn’t appreciate you always leaving the toilet seat up. (Zing! I can make sweeping, cliche assumptions about the opposite sex, too! Someone get me a record deal.)

Also, P.S., no one except J.D. from Scrubs drinks appletinis. So um, try again.


OK. Enough about that. Here are some totally cliche (but unlike Sharif’s song, totally good) chocolate chip cookies, courtesy of Martha Stewart.

Soft & chewy chocolate chip cookie

2 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, room temperature
1/2 cup granulated sugar
1 cup packed light-brown sugar
1 teaspoon salt
2 teaspoons pure vanilla extract
2 large eggs
2 cups (about 12 ounces) mix of semisweet chocolate chips and chocolate chunks


Preheat your oven to 350 degrees and line two baking sheets with parchment paper.

In a small bowl, whisk together the flour and baking soda; set aside. In the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, combine the butter with both sugars; beat on medium speed until light and fluffy. Reduce speed to low; add the salt, vanilla, and eggs. Beat until well mixed, about 1 minute. Add flour mixture; mix until just combined. Stir in the chocolate chips.


Drop heaping tablespoon-size balls of dough about 2 inches apart on baking sheets lined with parchment paper.

Bake until cookies are golden around the edges, but still soft in the center. Most recipes say this should take 8-10 minutes; mine usually take closer to 15. Check them around the eight minute mark, and see how they’re doing. If they’re still kind of raw, I’d suggest checking them every two minutes until they turn golden.


(Clearly, I am not the least bit concerned with making my cookies aesthetically pleasing. Or even the same size. I’m sorry, Martha.)

Remove from oven, and let cool on baking sheet 1 to 2 minutes. Transfer to a wire rack or plate, and let cool completely.

Bask in their delicious, cliched glory as you shovel them into your mouth. With a glass of milk, if you aren’t as repulsed by milk as I am.

Happy eating!


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