I also invented a drink called the Guinea Pig. It's not very good.

Have you tried Mountain Dew and whiskey yet?

Zmayhem are fed. Emmett elected to have mac and cheese over leftover lemon chicken. JZ had leftover Chinese (bok choy/mushroom, mixed with kung pao shrimp).

I had a lovely New York strip steak, which I marinated in Worcestshire and salt and pepper. Broiled on both sides for about five minutes each. Then I put a pat of butter on it (French style) and used my microplane to put some fresh parmesan on top of that.

So. Fucking. Rich. And delicious. I may die in the next ten minutes, but I'll die happy.

So. Fucking. Rich. And delicious. I may die in the next ten minutes, but I'll die happy.

Heh. He hasn't even had the cake yet, which between cake and frosting contains 3 1/2 sticks of butter.

Things that are put away might as well not exist for me...

meara, oh my God, I'm married to you!

But how do the clothes being out make more dustmites than being in a drawer?

I'm not altogether certain it makes more exactly, but dustmites roving free around your room are going to torment you more than dustmites trapped in a drawer. They're damn tough to eradicate, but containment is a totally achievable goal.

Also, Tep's new haircut? So. Hot. And the nape of your neck looks so lovely and enticing.

Well, I'm having hot dogs, potato chips, and applesauce for dinner and will feel (as I always do with this meal) that I am 7 years old. Not rich but yum.

ETA--Great haircut, Tep!

Have you tried Mountain Dew and whiskey yet?

NO! But, we have a ridiculously large bottle of Skyy Vodka we need to finish off. My brother handed it to me in a large paper bag a year ago, along with a bottle of Tangueray, when we moved him out of his dorm room, when he shoved a large paper bag into my hands and said "Happy Housewarming. Put it in the car and don't let Mom and Dad see."

Now that he's moved out, and I'm moving home, I was tempted to do the same back to him. Then I thought, fuck no I will not. Hence, The Guinea Pig.

so far soybeans for dinner. next bread and butter

Sigh. My back up cat sitter just cancelled for this weekend.

I can leave the cats alone for the long weekend, right?

Sure. If they have each other for entertainment, they'll be fine.

I had pizza, but the one with all the vegs, so not really a bad choice. And I can't even pick off the mushrooms anymore, thanks to the mocking of a certain hair-crazed music critic. They are still not my favorite things, but I cannot be sitting at a book award dinner hiding stuff in my napkin. Nuh uh.

Officially kinda drunk. Resisting temptation to sing along with Phantom of the Opera, as I do still have to live here another month.

And (hopefully) with new, darker hair. Won't be able to tell until it's dry. But I do feel more badass.

ETA: On further inspection, I appear to have dyed my arm. Well, shit.

I can top this. Stone-sober this morning, I'm listening to the minister talk about "people of conscience working together" and it took everything I had not to burst out with "What can't we face when we're together?" and etc. from OMWF. I believe the Senator might have abandoned us had I gone for it, considering the bunnies.