I meant to post this yesterday, but Wordpress decided I needed the night off and locked me out of the blog. Thank you, unnecessarily paternalistic software!
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I got home late from work tonight and wasn't going to Smack Down at all, but I got my shit together and smacked some Thomas Keller Ad Hoc down most righteously. And now it is close to my bedtime, and Flickr doesn't want to upload any of my photos and I'm a little cranky and the house smells like fish. All of that to say: post coming tomorrow.
Good night, and good luck.
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It's Christmas Eve! And we all know what that means.
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Mother Nature has seen fit to drive a rusty spike into my left temple. Every once in a while, she twists it to make sure I'm still paying attention.
Therefore, I am forced to abjure from cooking in favor of eating takeout in a dark room.
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So in case you hadn't noticed, in the great game of "What do you do when you're uninspired?" I've gone with option C, "POWER THROUGH."
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Life, it seems, is getting in the way of blogging. November's Hobo Tuesday is officially canceled because I recognize that I'm not going to have time to put it together this week. We will rinse and repeat in December.
Stupid life.
(Don't worry, everything's fine. Just overwhelming.) (Also, Happy Halloween.)
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I can do a Smackdown when tired. I can do a Smackdown when sick. I can do a Smackdown while nauseous. What I can NOT do is a Smackdown while exhausted, sick AND nauseous.
The guilt that dogs me because this Smackdown was to be a birthday treat for a good friend can only drive me so far. I must throw my hands up, or risk hurting myself and/or others.
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Okay, it totally is. It's also a great excuse for going to the emergency room, and for taking a broad-spectrum antibiotic.* I had a plan for tonight's dinner and everything, so as soon as this whole coughing-up-blood thing is past I'm all over this shit.
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That due to real-life jobs (I know! I have one!) Tight Ass Tuesday was not an option last night. However, we are still on for Top Chef, so I'll see y'all later.
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The only thing better than failure is failure at 3 in the morning. I mean, in general I prefer my failures to occur at an obscure time of night: all the better to reinforce their obscurity. But when the thing you're screwing up is meant to be broadcast to the world anyway, it doesn't really matter when it happens.
It's just, you know, it's 3:30am. And I'm cranky.
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