Just Desserts

It's no secret that I'm not exactly a fan of Twilight. At the same time, I am thoroughly convinced of Merlin's adept skill in improving upon anything and everything idiotic. But, just in case you weren't privy to those particular tidbits of information, I present you with the evidence that follows...

He Just Had To Ask...

I’ve never been a fan of cars, so, usually, when I want to go somewhere, I either do without and forget or I walk. (I used to ride my bike around some, only then I outgrew it. The bike, that is.) But it’s not as if walking is some sort of regimental stipulation for life. I don’t walk just to walk. That’s just...stupid. Why in the heck would you do something just for the sake of doing it? I don’t even do that when I read a book. I do it because I love to read, lose myself in some other world for a while. There has to be some sort of reasoning behind it, otherwise, there’s no point to it. Z doesn’t seem to get this concept.

To The Birds

Yes, yes. I know. Most people are, at the very least, vaguely excited by V-Day. But I'm not gonna lie. If I had my way, it wouldn't exist. Not around me. I don't really care what you do with your own time. That's your business. But just please, please don't take up mine with your sentimental. I'm not interested. Not even a little bit. I don't want any cards, chocolates, kisses...nothing. Just some peace and quiet. That's all I ask.

Honestly, I just don't get the whole Valentine's thing. Like, all of these girls are running around, twisting their boyfriends round and round their pinkies, and there's hearts everywhere. It's freakin' nuts.

And, well...do my fellow females honestly think that guys really care about you, just because they get you something for ChocDay (as I call it)? That what they get you is an accurate representation of how they feel towards you? 'Cause that's just ridiculous.

Fully Aglow

Your taste – the feel
of your mouth, the edging
all along your hot pink tongue – it's like
burnt sugar, trembling,
Crumbling black-brown
molded
oh so firmly
to the insides of my mouth
Yes, yes
I can taste it
I can feel it
I can

Red Velvet...Muffins?

Yes, yes, I know. This isn't actually a muffin. It's a cupcake. But, honestly, I couldn't find a picture of the muffin variety on Google Images. And no, I couldn't upload one of my own because a) my camera's dead and b) The Brick, a.k.a. my phone, is tragically outdated. So...yeah. Deal with it. [The cupcake masquerading as a muffin, that is. And, if possible, my dearth of technology.] I have to.

Anyways, my mom comes home from Sam's Club with this horribly huge trunk full of grocery bags. Of course, you know the thing about grocery bags, and, whether you do or not, I'm going to enlighten you. Because I feel like it. And it's my friggin' blog, so that's not really anything you can do about it now is there? [This is me in Royal B*tch mode, FYI.] The thing about grocery bags is that they're way too thin to ever possibly support all the crap they're expected to contain. Like, pages of the Holy Freakin' Bible thin.
–––Y'all remember how they used to rip every time you used them? –––The old heavy things stuffed in all the box trappings on the back of the, er, pews?                                                         –––Yes, those.
So my mom struts on up the sidewalk towards the front porch, almost trips on her to the storm door, and hands me one of those Bible page-thin bags all excitedly, like she's got something real special tucked away inside and she can't wait to see my face when I open that tacky old bag and unveil the "prize". And guess what? It was a box of Red Velvet Muffins. Not cupcakes, not even cake. Muffins. For those of you who've ever scratched your heads over why I'm usually more than a mite suspicious of what my mother brings home from the store and/or fixes for supper or whatever, this is why. It's because she hands me stuff like this. Stuff I've never even heard of. And she expects me to not only eat it, but enjoy it, practically salivate over it. She's nuts.

In my opinion, the Red Velvet muffin is nothing more or less than an appurtenance to the Double Chocolate muffin. On top of that, of course, it must be said that these culinary contrivances are, for all socially ecumenical extents and purposes, like me, at least in this regard: they are too strange for words [which is saying something, when you really think about it, considering the immense bulk that is the Merriam-Webster dictionary]. I rest my case.

But enough of that. Let's move on to something less depressing and, hopefully, more interesting to you, my dutiful readers – an epic update in The "Romance" Department.

Let The Joust Begin!

I know not all of you - if any - have actually watched Merlin, but I thought it would fun to see which "couple" you liked best anyway. So, here goes.

And the nominees are...