So, uh, I forgot that I was going to lead into a Christmas list for my mom, because she has asked over and over again to come up with some stuff that she could buy in the $0-20 range. I assume that she isn’t going to just grab something from a clearance end cap at Target and scrape off the ten orange price tags that each cut ten percent off of the price until it is essentially free.
So, in no particular order:
Well, I suppose that if I were going to throw a Winter Ale Party I would need to plan it somewhat in advance of the end of December. Too late now!
The Keathlys made cookies last night. I helped until I got kicked out for doing things like this:
“Okay, so, oh my GOD Gogol Bordello was the most amazing show ever,” I exclaimed with only a modicum of hyperbole.
“Oh yeah? What happened?” Zach asked incredulously. Zach has been to some excellent shows (MAN MAN: HOLY SHIT) and — in fact — invented the word amazing. He says it all the time, so now I do, too.
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I spent like two days making the mole for my Chicano Studies class. I brought it to the potluck and was declared an “honorary Latino” by my professor, so I think that’s a good thing. I finally got to trot out my best Spanish line: “Mi estómago habla español mejor que yo,” which means: “my stomach speaks better spanish than I do.”
No, I don’t mean my stony wasteland of a heart, suddenly incapable of human emotion, I mean in the house where the furnace has magically stopped working. The gas company shipped us an enormous box that is whimpering and crying, so I think that it is full of orphans. I’m gonna make a big pile of them to sleep under.
I am currently wearing two sets of pajamas. Remember when I used to sleep in the nude? Of course you don’t, you weren’t there. But I’m sure that you’re imagining it now.
Whenever I get to Norway, I am required by law to eat smalahove. That’s half a sheep’s head. Yes, I will eat anything. Photo courtesy h0bbel, who is my Norwegian brother.
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