The soccer player or the goddess?
My son is turning into an upholstered-furniture-based starchy tuber. He's is Baby Einstein's bitch.
[NAFDA] Spike-centric discussion. Lusty, lewd (only occasionally crude), risque (and frisque), bawdy (Oh, lawdy!), flirty ('cuz we're purty), raunchy talk inside. Caveat lector.
The soccer player or the goddess?
My son is turning into an upholstered-furniture-based starchy tuber. He's is Baby Einstein's bitch.
My son is turning into an upholstered-furniture-based starchy tuber.
BWAH! It took me a little bit to get it. I'm a couple of french fries short of a Happy Meal tonight.
Dinner last night: [link]
Hee! Oh dear, what were you trying to feed the poor child?
Thai food, on the other hand, is disgusting with or without the word "curry."
Agreed. I think it's the combination of spices, plus the frequent use of coconutty, peanutty flavors (which I do NOT like in foods that should be savory rather than sweet).
The food discussion now has me craving palakh paneer.
Steph! Did you get something from me yesterday?
But we all know that I'm married to the person with the smallest range of acceptable food on the planet.
Wait, you're married to my in-laws? What does that make us, anyway? In-laws in law?
Thai food is divine.
So is paneer, which I keep meaning to try to make.
Steph! Did you get something from me yesterday?
Not unless your name is Coldwater Creek. Did you send it to my work addy?
I like eggs. Actually, I love eggs.
I hear the first blush of romance is nice. I remain firm in my belief that I will never ever ever experience it, ever again.
My seasonal depression is worse this year than it has been in a few years. I keep going from Non-Functional to Relatively Human and back again a few times over the course of a day. The roller-coastering is making me feel like a Cepheid star. (Go look it up if you don't know what that is. It's my attempt to be erudite.)
Many things to do before Halloween party tonight:
paint fingernails
bake punkin bread
iron apron
polish shoes
work out
nap
elevate mood
call M. to decline corn maze invitation for tonight
shower, etc.
Not in that order.
I took the car in to a place I've had work done before. The squealing is actually a warning sensor that goes off when the brake pads are less than 50%. Go team Honda for that! However, evidentally the last time the brake pads were changed the rotors weren't so now I need new rotors as well.
Total cost: $380. Over half of that is the rotors. I had to fall back on the Bank of Dad, which I hate, but it would take me a while to get that money and I want to get this fixed before it gets worse.
We are off to a wedding this afternoon. This is the one where my cousin is marrying the chick I don't like. I have promised to be on good behaviour - but I'm feeling rather ornery right now and am plotting little ways to make her life miserable.