Michelle has a fever, and the only cure…is a guest post.
Leftover chicken, shred.
That’s the name of my new Emo/Baroque Musical Theater Company.
The missing two: Velveeta carnage. (The frozen sangria helps it go down easy.)
Jose Tejas: Iselin, NJ, August 14, 2009 at 7:28PM
That is: 1000 – 1 = 999.
The 1: Carnage.
Seville Diner, East Brunswick NJ, 1:15PM
The bar for bleak soups has been raised. Gauntlets have been thrown. RISE TO THE CHALLENGE! Name your bleak soup for a chance to win a copy of Sunday Soups.
Leftovers are AWESOME. Also ice cream makers. And wine.
Sometimes I’m amazed at the brain’s ability to retain information. Like this: the last time I studied or spoke any French was my sophomore year of college. That was roughly 12 years ago.* Yet I only had to look up 3 of the 5 words in the post title, and I’m almost 70% sure it says what I want it to say.** Sometimes I amaze even myself. For my next trick, I will keep 15 plates spinning while playing the score to La Traviata on the recorder.
*OH MY GOD. And I’m starting to go white, for real; you don’t have to search around my scalp for those suckers anymore, they’re IN YOUR FACE. Because I am a thousand.
**Don’t correct me. Let me live the dream.
Sometimes Smackdowns don’t work out as well as I’d like and that’s okay, I love them all just the same. Well, except for this one. Oh, and this one; this one was just the nastiest one of the year and I repudiate it completely. But all the other ones, I love just the same. Especially when they leave me with leftover custard sauce. Because what is leftover custard sauce, really, other than inchoate ice cream waiting to be made into ice cream?