It is 4:30 on a Friday. After a productive afternoon, this is what I'm thinking:
Just ate a fab cookie from Mr. Chocolate himself, Jacques Torres. Blogs are made for description - my description of that cookie would be vulgar (yes, it's that good and endorphin-producing).
I will be working off said cookie with some bitchin' cardio at the gym. Should be nice and empty, it being Friday and all.
Oprah is one evil demon. When will her visage finally crack, and let the cockroach that's inside come out? Maybe she's trying to shoot it out of her pursed angry food receptacle here.
My cat's breath smells like cat food.
On top of spaghetti, all covered with cheese. I lost my poor meatball, when somebody sneezed.
It rolled off the table, and onto the floor. And then my poor meatball, it rolled out the door.
It rolled off the table, and under a bush. And then my poor meatball, was nothing but mush.
I need some nachos this week. Betcha can't wait until Monday!
Little Britain is so my favorite show ever. Treat yourself this weekend - watch it.
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1 comment:
did you make this blog just to see how many links you could hook up? lol!!
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