As a kid, I loved playing with my aunt’s pressure cooker. When she wasn’t looking, I would play with the little knob on top of the lid that allowed the steam to escape. PSSSST…For some strange reason, I enjoyed that sound. Sometimes I would get too close and suffered steam burns to my hands or face. Man those were the good ole days. When pressure cooker was only used for tenderizing food, not people. Thank you terrorists! You cowardly bastards!
Apparently whoever was responsible for the bombings in Boston used pressure cookers as their IEDs. Now thanks to them, pressure cookers will be under the microscope. I won’t be able to travel with my precious cooker. Hell, I could be in the comfort of my house, waiting for my deer meat to soften and suddenly find myself confronted by the swat team. “Drop to the ground and back away from that pressure cooker! What do you have in there, boy? Ball bearings? Nails? What? And what’s that suspicious package you got there?” “Sorry sir, it’s just my penis. Wanna see?” “Don’t be fresh with me boy. And we will be taking this pressure cooker. Don’t you know it’s now on the list of banned items? You know what, let’s take a look at that penis…”