I second the motion. I can eat it if I have to, but I never ever ask for it.
I had a writing class in high school that I didn’t take seriously (last semester, senior year.) Every paper I turned in had the theme “Man’s inhumanity to Man”. Even a short 200 word piece that I had to write about the Bullwinkle balloon used in the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade.
Morning, all. It was soooo nice to sleep fairly well last night – I didn’t spend the whole night aching and tossing and turning, I just cuddled up with Emily and we both snored the night away. Just lovely!
So now I am up and caffeinating and preparing to get started on some congressional [de]drivel[/del] work. Hence the lack of positive contractions in this post. :rolleyes: But first I must caffeinate a bit more, to make up for staying up too late last night. For the first time in far too long, instead of giving up and going to bed because I felt so miserable, I got a nice second wind and was able to actually get some constructive work done until the moderately wee hours. It was nice to actually function again.
Spackle-feeding is the only way to go, Dotty! And be sure HRH’s first birthday cake is chocolate, for better photographic evidence. 
Okay, that is going too far – Miracle Whip on pumpkin pie? All together now: Ewwwwww!
Congrats on finding a house, taxi! I hope it all works out well. Be sure to have a really, REALLY thorough inspection first, however – it truly pays to spend $$ on a good inspection up front. And also insist on a home warranty; they cost less than $500, but can save you thousands. Between those two, you should be covered for any unexpected surprises.
It is a lovely morning, and I had better get some of this work done since I have a hair appointment this afternoon. When visiting old friends, it is important to hide the grey hair. Especially when this particular old friend still has none. Or so she claims. :dubious:
Am I overusing smilies this morning? Do I care? Later, all!
Is it possible to have too much s’mores in your life? A Mumper thinks so and I think she’s batshit crazy for saying so. I’ll withhold her name for now for fear of her personal safety.
Miracle Whip is not allowed in my house.
I was visiting a friend on day, and she was making tuna sandwiches for us. I wasn’t really paying attention while she was making them, and when I took the first bite it was all I could do not to spit it out. I told her “I think your mayonaise has gone bad”. She took a bite and said “no, that’s how Miracle Whip is supposed to taste”. I told her that I really hated to seem rude, but I just couldn’t eat it.
I agree. Miracle Whip is horribly mis named.
I will fess up now. It’s me. Growing up I had s’mores all the time. Living in the country we always had bon fires, went camping, etc. Now I really don’t care for s’mores. I will eat them if forced upon me, but I really don’t care for them. I would much rather eat all of the ingredients separately than all mushed together.
Maybe my lack of s’mores is why I’m not getting groped?
::gives **McUne ** a generic, non-threatening, purely platonic grope::
May Og have mercy on your soul you anti, s’moreite bastard.
I love s’mores. Anti-smores heretics shoiuld be… well, should be forced to give their s’mores to me.
Sigh. A friend who’s a really, really devout Protestant, and with whom I have endless hours of argument and wrangling, has just sent me, and expects me to read, a six page essay he found online about Luther’s rewriting of Marian theology. I’ve read about half of it, and I think a lot of the essayist’s arguments are disingenuous. I don’t want to read the other half.
:Bangs head down on keyboard:
The way to get someone to stop sending you stuff like that is to find one or more online articles that refute the salient points of his/her email. You may have to do it more than once, but they’ll begin to feel as fed up with your emails as you are with theirs
Ummmmm … fight my ignorance. What’s a s’more? 
A s’more (contraction: gimme some more) is a delicacy made from graham crackers, milk chocolate and marshmallows. Make a sandwich of the graham crackers with the chocolate and the marshmallows inside, and expose to heat until the contents are melted.
I will humbly accept all unwanted s’mores. Out of the goodness of my heart, because we don’t want them to be homeless, do we?
Dotty, I would duck and run when **LOUNE ** reads that.
Thanks for the congrats, **doggio **and gt. And for the advice on the inspection and warranty, Mama Tigs. It’s exciting but overwhelming dealing with all of the mortgage stuff, the insurance stuff, and keeping in mine all this other stuff. Like the fact that there could be problems getting a mortgage for a condo conversion. Bleh. But it’s still exciting to think about a new house. 
Sooooooo tired right now. I slept well, but that didn’t help get me through a presentation by the USPS. I’m sorry, but it’s just boring. So now I need a nice nap.
And for all the cheery people who are playing indoor mini golf outside my cube to raise money for the United Way to be a little less loud and cheery. Gitoff my lawn!!
taxi - you and Keith are buying a house? Congrats! At least you know what you’re going to be doing for vacations and weekends from now on (working on the house.)
Thanks for the ejumacation on s’mores. Sounds like a nice campfire treat, but not something I would like to eat on a regular basis. A bit like Oreos really - the chocolate biscuit part is nice, particularly with a glass of cold milk, but I’m kind of … meh … about the white icing stuff in the middle! I do like sweets (quite a lot, sometimes) but I lean more towards the savouries for my comfort eating - anything with complex carbohydrates and cheese just makes my mouth water, so mac ‘n’ cheese covered in NOT puree and more cheese then baked until gooey is my idea of food heaven.
You mean about getting my voice back? It kinda comes and goes. . . last night, there was some grossness that you don’t even wanna hear about. And since I’m not mean, I won’t tell ya. 
Yes, please! Apparently, my goosing skills need some work. They put BBBobbio out for seven hours. Could I practice that on you?
gt, I hope you figure out what’s causing your illness-type feelings. I did a diet journal for a year a long time ago where I cut out everything and added stuff back slowly to figure out what was causing some of the symptoms. It was pretty tedious, but it really helped, I think.
You mean I’m supposed to wait a whole 60 minutes?! Think of how many ideas I could have come up with in those 60 minutes!! 
Weren’t you there to help me hold him down? Perhaps it’s you who swings. . . didn’t I see you swinging that other time. . . at least partially then.
grabs LOUNE, ties him up in one swift motion and throws him in room 304
Anyone want a piece of LOUNE?
::thinking of charging admission:: 
Oops!. . . . . sorry! :o
Maybe a little less twisting and yanking then next time? Lunch said I could practice on him, so I should be better next time.
I hope you had a good rest, though.
You don’t like Crisco? What’s your preference? Are you one of those butter-only snobs?
I love that story. Cracked me right up. So many ways to go with that one.
kai, you’re back!! ::bounce, bounce, bounce:: Glad to hear about your internet connection. Hope you stick around.
taxi, congrats on the condo in process. Sounds exciting.
Miracle Whip? Pumpkin pie? Just ewwww.
s’mores are where it’s at. But since I can’t eat chocolate, I have to substitute carob. But I saw this great frozen thing yesterday at the supermarket. It was soy ice cream sandwiched between two cookies and covered in carob. Yum! I think I’m getting that today.
It’s a beyoooootiful day out there, so I’m off to get it started. Have a great day, y’all and be good!
304…isn’t that the room with Mariah?
splish splash
Oh dear. Oh dear.
Miracle Whip is my trashy little secret. It was what we had in the house when I was growing up, and I still use it. Sometimes we would have jello salad (jello with a can of fruit cocktail mixed in), and we would put a little bit of Miracle Whip on top. What can I say? I blame it on the Eisenhower presidency, when women wore burnt-orange coats and wore gloves.
I’ll admit that I can get picky about food, but then I look in the fridge and see a bottle of Miracle Whip. It’s like a cat who turns up his nose at food from the big can instead of the little can, but then goes and rolls in the garbage. There’s really no accounting for it, I know, but there it is.
::sigh:: Does this kick me out of the cool-kids club?