So when I told my parents that I was going out to Washington and said I’d find someone to drive out there with me, my dad said that he’d already decided that he would probably go with me. Tonight my sister tells me that my mom was bitching to her about how dad was bitching about having to drive out to Washington with me. What the fuck, family! I swear, it’s always just a long chain of pissing and moaning. Don’t INSIST on doing something for me and then bitch about it like it’s a huge burden that I’ve placed upon you. Hell, I’ll drive out there by myself. “So they do some farming or something?” Really? Really? Jesus Christ.
Had a really great Skype interview with some farmers in Washington the other day; I’ll know by this weekend if I’m moving out there from April-October!
It’s really weird to me that so many of my facebook friends actually care enough about Whitney Houston’s death to post video and audio clips of her. I don’t think there was anything that remarkable about her; she had a decent voice, but so do a billion other people on this planet. What’d she ever contribute to this world other than generic over-produced music?
The sultan’s table was presided over by the Chief Attendant of the Napkin, assisted by the Senior of the Tray Servers, the Fruit Server, the Pickle Server and the Sherbet Maker, the Chief of the Coffee Makers and the Water Server (as Moslems, the sultans were teetotalers). There were also the Chief Turban Folder and the Assistants to the Chief Turban Folder, the Keeper of the Sultan’s Robes, the Chiefs of the Laundrymen and Bathmen.
—16th century Constantinople
I look at food blogs for my entire lunch break, every day. I can’t remember the last time I ate bread, but I’ve got to say- all of these “popover” recipes are damned tempting.