It’s weird when you think about it – the way a simple word can gross you out as much as watching those nasty surgery shows on TLC or stepping over fresh puke on your way to class on a Monday morning. But it happens. A lot. There are just some words that give us all the heebie-jeebies and after my mother used the word moist to describe how amazing her brownies were this morning, I decided 1) I’m too grossed out to eat a brownie right now and 2) it’s time to make a list of the words that make me feel icky, uncomfortable and downright dirty.

Yeah, I guess I’m a masochist.

Crusty: I know that crusty bread can be a good thing, but that’s usually not what I’m thinking about when I hear this word. Hard as I try (and trust me, I try!), I can’t get “crusty underpants” out of my head.

Panties: Ask me how many times I’ve uncomfortably giggled when the older, voluptuous lady at Victoria’s Secret offered to show me where the ’5 for $25′ panties were. Is it possible for a 20-year-old girl to feel like a dirty, old man at the mere mention of the word??

Facial: A big thanks to the porn industry for ruining one of the most relaxing spa treatments known to mankind. Never again will I be able to comment on “the best facial I’ve ever had” without feeling absolutely disgusting.

Moist: “Mmmm, these muffins are really moist.” Shudder.

Supple: If you are writing a super market romance novel, this word is perfect. “The supple young woman walked over to the counter while every men’s gaze was glued to her.” Anything else is just plain wrong.

Wet: This term not only describes something that is covered with liquid but also what is not dry. Yes, wet can be used to describe a counter top, or a plate. But it is also used to describe other things: “Did you hear that slimy, wet fart?”

Ointment: The word itself sounds like an infection. Which makes me think about all the gross, oozing things that you’d need ointment for. Which makes me want to barf.

Yeast: Even seeing it on a recipe card for some yummy homemade bread just makes me think of…. down there. And no one wants to put some fresh jam on that ish. (Editor’s Note: And if they do, well, double ew.)

Pimply: I don’t know if it’s the combination of the “p” and the “l” or if it’s the mental image of some poor soul whose entire face is covered by those juicy pimples, but yeah – I kind of threw up in my mouth.

Tits: Boobs, breasts, lady lumps….they all sound so much more pleasant than ‘tits.’ It’s just so derogatory and ugly. As are the people who would actually use this term.

Chunky: Think about it – is there anything positive in this world that can be described as ‘chunky’??

What words give you goose pimples? (Ew. Pimples.) Share ‘em below and maybe together we can forge a campaign to rid the world of this nastiness once and for all.

[This story was originally posted by Courtney - Bridgewater State University.]

Yeah, I guess I’m a masochist.

Crusty: I know that crusty bread can be a good thing, but that’s usually not what I’m thinking about when I hear this word. Hard as I try (and trust me, I try!), I can’t get “crusty underpants” out of my head.

Panties: Ask me how many times I’ve uncomfortably giggled when the older, voluptuous lady at Victoria’s Secret offered to show me where the ’5 for $25′ panties were. Is it possible for a 20-year-old girl to feel like a dirty, old man at the mere mention of the word??

Facial: A big thanks to the porn industry for ruining one of the most relaxing spa treatments known to mankind. Never again will I be able to comment on “the best facial I’ve ever had” without feeling absolutely disgusting.

Moist: “Mmmm, these muffins are really moist.” Shudder.

Supple: If you are writing a super market romance novel, this word is perfect. “The supple young woman walked over to the counter while every men’s gaze was glued to her.” Anything else is just plain wrong.

Wet: This term not only describes something that is covered with liquid but also what is not dry. Yes, wet can be used to describe a counter top, or a plate. But it is also used to describe other things: “Did you hear that slimy, wet fart?”

Ointment: The word itself sounds like an infection. Which makes me think about all the gross, oozing things that you’d need ointment for. Which makes me want to barf.

Yeast: Even seeing it on a recipe card for some yummy homemade bread just makes me think of…. down there. And no one wants to put some fresh jam on that ish. (Editor’s Note: And if they do, well, double ew.)

Pimply: I don’t know if it’s the combination of the “p” and the “l” or if it’s the mental image of some poor soul whose entire face is covered by those juicy pimples, but yeah – I kind of threw up in my mouth.

Tits: Boobs, breasts, lady lumps….they all sound so much more pleasant than ‘tits.’ It’s just so derogatory and ugly. As are the people who would actually use this term.

Chunky: Think about it – is there anything positive in this world that can be described as ‘chunky’??

What words give you goose pimples? (Ew. Pimples.) Share ‘em below and maybe together we can forge a campaign to rid the world of this nastiness once and for all.

That just so happens to be a beer.

The students are hoping to create a genetically modified strain of yeast that will ferment the beer while also producing resveratol, a substance in grapes that has been shown to reduce the risks of heart disease and cancer.

The brew will be known as BioBeer, and if all goes well, we will all soon be drinking/chugging/bonging/beer ponging/keg standing to our health.

Literally.

Great work, students of Rice University. Great work indeed.

[Photo courtesy of www.united-nations-of-beer.com]

To me, these little breads are almost like magic. You roll them flat as pancakes, then they puff up and fill with air. How does it happen? I have no idea, but I’m glad it does.

For two pita pockets, you’ll need ½ cup flour (all-purpose or wheat works), 1 teaspoon sugar, ¼ teaspoon rapid-rise yeast, and 2 tablespoons water.

In a small bowl, mix the flour, sugar, yeast, and water. The water should be around room temperature—just make sure it’s not way too hot or too cold. It’s OK if the dough hardly comes together—you’re going to knead it, and it will absorb more flour when you do that.

In the bowl or on a flat work surface, knead the dough for about 5 minutes. You may need to add more flour as you go along to keep the dough from getting too sticky. When you’re finished, shape the dough into a ball, and put it back in the bowl.

Cover the bowl with plastic wrap, and set it in a warm place to rise for 2 hours. The oven with the pilot light turned on works well. After those 2 hours, the dough should have expanded. It will look flatter, puffier, and maybe a little darker.

Preheat the oven to 500. Separate the dough into two balls, and sprinkle a little flour onto a flat surface. Roll out each ball into a flat pancake shape, somewhere between 1/8” and ¼” thick.

Here’s the tricky part. When you have your two pancake shapes, place them directly onto the oven grids. The oven will be incredibly hot, so BE CAREFUL! Use hot pads if you’re clumsy or if you think you might drop the flattened pieces of dough.

Shut the oven, and bake the breads for 5 minutes. When they’re done—no joke—they will have puffed up to about 2 inches in height. Awesome—and delicious!

The problem is, making fresh bread usually requires fooling around with yeast. I don’t have anything against yeast, but it’s temperamental. If the water you mix it with is too cold, it won’t ferment. If it’s too hot, the yeast will die. I don’t have time to screw around with that stuff! That’s why this bread recipe is great… if you can get water to room temperature, then you virtually can’t screw it up.

For one loaf starter, you need a cup of water, 2 cups of flour, and ¼ teaspoon yeast (rapid-rise yeast is best). Then, for the bread, you need an additional ¼ cup water, 1 cup flour, 1 ½ teaspoons yeast (again, rapid-rise is best), 1 teaspoon salt, and 2 tablespoons olive oil (optional). If you want to brush something nice over the top so the bread is shiny, you need more olive oil or 1 egg white.

To begin, mix the starter ingredients together. The water should be at a cool room temperature. Once you’ve combined the ingredients and mixed them so that all the flour is absorbed, put plastic wrap over the bowl you mixed them in, and let the starter rest overnight or for 12-16 hours. The dough should rise dramatically and look somewhat bubbly when it’s done.

After the starter has risen, mix it with the ¼ cup water. Make sure it’s combined and smooth. It will reduce back down to its previous size, but that’s okay. Add the cup of flour, the 1 ½ teaspoons yeast, the salt, and the olive oil if you’re using it. Knead the bread on a floured surface for 5-6 minutes until it feels smooth. You may need to add more flour as you go along.

When you’re done, grease the bowl the starter was in, turn to coat the dough with the grease (or oil, or butter, or whatever), cover it with plastic wrap again, and let it rise for 1 ½-4 hours. (That’s why this bread is great—you can totally conform it to your schedule!)

Once it’s risen, it will look all puffy again. Gently take it out of the bowl and set it onto a baking sheet that’s been greased or coated with aluminum foil or waxed paper. Mold it into the loaf shape you want (round, rodlike, braided, whatever)…

… then cover it with plastic wrap and let it rise for another 1 ½-4 hours. It should look the same, but puffier.

Near the end of the rising, preheat the oven to 425. If you want to coat the bread with something so that it looks shiny on top, beat an egg white well in a bowl and use a pastry brush to coat the loaf with the egg white. You can also brush olive oil on top. When you’re finished coating it, bake that sucker for 30-35 minutes. When it’s beautiful and golden brown, it’s done and ready to eat!