I am, you see, on the horns of a dilemma; a dilemma ultimately of my own making. Confound my irrepressible talent! I don’t even LIKE pickles.
I am selling my apartment, job hunting, looking for a rental and have had the single busiest week I may have had at work, ever. Mostly BY CHOICE. Because I have a problem.
Before I get into the meat of this post, it has just been brought to my attention that Chef Spike Mendelsohn, Douchey McHatterson himself, will be shilling for acid reflex meds.
I’m assuming I’m not the only one who’s noticed the extreme proliferation of Food Commemoration Days, like “National Pancake Day” or “National Chocolate Chip Cookie Day” or “National Mung Bean Day.”
I was just learning to trust again after the whole pho incident, but I’m beginning to feel like we’re never going to have a truly honest relationship. YOU SIT UPON A THRONE OF LIES.
Seriously. I thought that we had a really good thing going here. I felt like we had a strong relationship built on trust. I mean, I’ve always been up front with you about everything.
I once played footsies with the left. I ended up with scuffed up shoes and a bruised shin, but still no affordable healthcare. (Sorry, I’m watching the Republican debate on CNN.)