Cooking pasta is one of the most dangerous activities known to man. Not women, though. Women have it down to a P (as in pasta). What women struggle with in the kitchen is opening jars of gherkins and yodelling. Combining the two is simply two much for feeble women brians. Leave those jars to the mighty men and their mighty men muscles, yo!
Do not leave them to cook pasta, though, as invariably the very fabric of reality will be threatened. Indeed, it is well known men struggle to cook pasta. There was an incident in 1666 when a working class male set fire to London when he was after cooking a late night snack of pasta and dead rat. Be warned – the consequences of The Grate Fire of London persist to this day. Londoners aren’t allowed to cook rats any more, which is a bloody great shame.
The loss of a culinary delight aside, pasta has other severe issues about it. As it is made out of a mixture of egg, salt, aspic, marmalade, and semtex, it has a habit of spontaneously combusting at inopportune moments (inopportune as one is often cooking the stuff when it explodes). Pasta explodes different to other stuff, though. We’re not on about BOOOOOMMMMM fireball type stuff, a pasta explosion is a soggy one.
It is estimated 1 in every 4 pasta cook offs ends in a soggy mass of soggy pasta. Soggy pasta has many severe health implications, such as gout, hernias, balding, ingrowing toenails, and scurvy. The only way to avoid such a fate is to either not cook any pasta, or inherit a cooking timer to ensure you don’t overdo the bloody stuff.
Cooking timers allow one to listen to a ticking noise and monitor the thyme it takes for pasta to boil. First one must boil a pan of water, of course, and resist the urge to dunk one’s head into the broiling mass of liquid (or is this just our urge?). Once done, fling in the pasta bits with gusto and laugh hysterically for around 4-5 minutes (or longer – read your pasta packet instructions for Hysterical Laughter guidance).
This guide should limit the tragic tale of people having soggy gross pasta for dinner. Or you could, you know, buy a Pot Noodle instead. Or hire a butler to do this sort of crap for you. Just make sure you call the butler Albert and all will be well.