My wife has had a stomach bug for a couple days and now I have it, too. So much for my plans to go for a walk while it’s snowing. Curling up in a ball of human misery and regret for that cup of tea I drank will have to do.
Mashed potatoes were double-booked for the Thanksgiving meetup for my grandmother. We were given all of the leftover spuds. They have about the volume of a cinder block. Gonna be living on these for a week.
Reheated leftovers straight will lose their charm soon. And one can only eat so many fried mashed tater patties. a pâté chinois will only put so much a dent in the batch…
The Devil Makes Three knocked out a new album, this fall:
I have a hip flask of cheap bourbon, my Cthulhu ’16 campaign button, and am headed to the polls. May I be eaten first and know not the suffering. Rise ancient ones, RISE!
To whoever stole my fire pit,
It is thin, cheap, and easy to throw in the back of a truck. If your life is so empty that you really needed to purloin a very used tin can of a pre-made fire bowl, go ahead and keep it. Maybe it can fill some of the void in your vapid soul.