Sunday

Dry

No beer, wine, or liquor to be found in this dry county in this Bible-belt state.  But everyone is popping Oxycontin, Darvocet, or Xanax at the first sign of trouble.  God bless.

Shed

Set up a writing space in my in-laws' storage shed.  Next Christmas at the in-laws is going to smell like my cheeseburger/coffee farts.  Happy holidays!

Wish

"If farts could make you high I'd be in heaven."

Snacktime

At work, I was going to get a pack of Mentos from the vending machine, but then decided I didn't want the responsibility of being the Freshmaker.


(Stolen from Samara Siskind)

Tuesday

El Huevos Del Diablo

At a picnic one Saturday I ate seven deviled eggs.  That night, my children awoke in the dark, crying in terror at the foul stench their father had unleashed in the room down the hall.

Saturday

Deadly

Delicious But Dangerous Food Trifecta. Bacon. Ranch Seasoning.  Mayonnaise.

Tuesday

Reborn


And the day Netflix crashed, people staggered from the dim, dank environs of their computer monitors into the bright, fresh air of the living room and once again knew what it was to enjoy the real, vital world of Basic Cable.

Monday

Snack in the Night

The pie bandit strikes.  Delicious.  Payback for the garlic bread?  I think so.