I am speaking this post into my phone. I cannot imagine the horrificness that is going to ensue.
Iris is on my lap, and she is purring and starfish-ing her paws, and I do not have the heart to get up and put her aside to type on my real computer.
Since I can’t write much of a post today, let’s talk about how we are weird about food. Yesterday I was speaking with faithful reader Fay, and by “speaking,” I mean we were on Google chat. The point is, she said she will not eat an avocado. There is just no way. But guacamole? She will eat the shit out of some guacamole.
Now, with me, I just love cheese. Really I do. (Name that cartoon.) I eat cheese all the time. Why so chubby?
I buy those little wedges of cheese, in the light version, and I can’t think of the name of the brand but it’s not laughing cow, because those laughing cow commercials really annoy me. Also, apparently my phone does not know that laughing cow is a brand-name. Nor does my phone know that brand-name does not need to be hyphenated.
The point of this riveting story is, as much as I love cheese, as much as I will go to a restaurant and ask them to make me a fruit, nut and cheese plate, do not put cheese on my sandwich.
You put cheese on my sandwich, you’ve ruined my whole day.
So what about you? What’s your weird food thing?
Eventually I am going to have to shower, and that means I’m going to have to move this happy little cat. But I don’t want to.
I will talk to you later. After we’ve had very pertinent discussions about food.