fifty frenchmen can't be wrong (
some_stars) wrote2011-10-31 06:59 pm
(no subject)
Lamb chops were on sale when I went shopping today--"on sale" being relative, since I only buy non-factory-farmed meat which meant they were expensive anyway, but less so than usual. And I bought two tiny ones, the wee baby T-bone chops, as a special treat because I love them SO MUCH and haven't had them in a few months, and I took them home and proceeded to ruin them in ways I cannot even fathom how I managed it. Then I grimly devoured them anyway, and now I am depressed.
(I also did bad things to the spinach, but that was because of overaggressive trick-or-treaters distracting me at a key moment by making me worry if they could see me and my pantlessness from the front window. And they seriously kept ringing for like an entire minute, and shouting, despite the lack of porchlight or pumpkin, and eventually I ran to get pants and when I got back: bad things. I thought the kids who come out before it's even dark are the ones with overprotective parents who follow them up to the door and don't let them harass people, but apparently not.)
(I also did bad things to the spinach, but that was because of overaggressive trick-or-treaters distracting me at a key moment by making me worry if they could see me and my pantlessness from the front window. And they seriously kept ringing for like an entire minute, and shouting, despite the lack of porchlight or pumpkin, and eventually I ran to get pants and when I got back: bad things. I thought the kids who come out before it's even dark are the ones with overprotective parents who follow them up to the door and don't let them harass people, but apparently not.)

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