Wednesday, March 05, 2003

That squealing, popping sound in

That squealing, popping sound in the background is my nurts in a vice.  (They’re popping, I’m squealing.) There’s no way I can finish what needs to be finished before Ieave for my trip to Florida.  There’s no way I can finish what needs to be done for tomorrow morning tonight.  Plus I *have* to cook that calmari - make a nice po’boy with lemon mayo and sliced tomatos and shredded cabbage in vinegar with pepper… cooking for one, too bad y’all can’t come and share; it’s fine eating, which is one of my favorite mottos anyway. 

So much crap to deal with.  Gotta leave but first a nod of grateful recognition to the good people of blogland, and a pretentious word of advice: When life gives you lemons, make lemon bombs. ("They said, you gotta have a gimmick, and I said, yeah, baby, high explosives!  I’m making gravy without the lumps!” - Evil Midnight Bomber What Bombs At Midnight)