Earlier this year I began a compilation of H-isms. It was just a file on my computer, and I had forgotten about it. Today, I looked in it and found this:
Dad: H, do you want Caesar dressing since we don't have Ranch?
H: [with a look of disgust (surprise, surprise)] That stuff tastes like dead goose!
Neither JRR nor I remembered this conversation when the other taste equivalents were made, but apparently this one predates previous swamp installments.
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