Listen, I think I just killed the new blender. I made lima bean hummus in it, and in my pursuit for the creamiest hummus ever, I think I burned out the motor. Whoops. Maybe it'll come back to life when it cools down? Yeah, I know, probably not. Damn, damn, damn.
I finished the ostrich story, which is really not an ostrich story, but a story in which ostriches make a minor appearance. It's totally a NSFW story. I guess. NSFW doesn't mean much when you don't have any work. That was unemployment humor. *cue the sound of deflating balloons*
It's snowing right now. Beautiful and annoying. I'm sick of winter. Blah, blah, blah. Let's complain about winter some more. I'll put on my fur-lined hoodie and you put on your mittens and we'll have us an old-fashioned bitch fest out on the snow-covered front porch. You bring the cigarettes and I'll bring the makings for hot chocolate. Minus the marshmallows. Plus the bourbon. I'm on this anti-marshmallow/pro-bourbon kick. It comes and it goes.
I'm going to make tiny crustless quiches in muffin cups now. How's that strike you?