I brought my own microwave, thank you very much.
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Let me explain how I came to own the microwaveable egg poacher, first. Then, you can make your judgements. I am, as someone once said, a "marketer's wet dream." I'm not sure if or how that could be considered a compliment, but when in doubt, I make everything a compliment, anyway, so... I like to think everyone in the whole world, actually, is talking about me, at any given moment. It makes me feel better. I can't deny that I probably have a problem, like a genuine problem, this time; I'm a walking bank account when it comes to clever advertising and bright...
I'm addicted to crack (machines).
There's an epidemic in Starkville. I know because I'm very attuned to these things. Like any hypochondriac. It's crack (machines). I speak from experience. (And I'm pretty sure it's not an epidemic of One, but if it is, that's ok, because the army is an Army of One, and I know for a fact that there's more than one person in the army. I'm stepping forward to speak today because I'm no longer afraid to confess that I'm addicted. Perhaps, I can speak as One for us All. Perhaps, my story will help others). I could hardly write that last sentence without giggling...at least,...
Good in the kitchen and with chicken snakes.
For twelve days I've been a vegetarian. Mostly. Erin said what I really am (she's an authentic, bona fide vegetarian) was a pescatarian. Which sounds similar to a Christian denomination. But, mainly, it means I am 90% real vegetarian, and 10% fake-out: I allow myself fish, eggs, dairy, etc. I have a great need for smoked salmon, on occasion. I'm not trying to drag anyone along with me on this dietary sojourn (although twelve days is a little less than temporary), but as I cook all the meals in the house, Amanda might not have much of a choice. Well, except where the...
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