WHY does Verizon feel the need to screw with my data plan??? I wish to keep the grandfathered plan that I have had for years because I am a loyal customer. They wish to charge me for my Amazon MP3/Netflixing ways in new and more expensive ways.
WHY do shoe companies on CERTAIN WEBSITES THAT MAY END IN “AZZLE” not feel the need to tell me how high a heel is on a pair of shoes? I want comfortable, not slut stack and the ability to tell the difference.
WHY does my brain feel the need to not make a fucking paint decision. I have furniture in front of every paint swath on my walls to hide them. They will likely stay that way for years.
WHY did the dogs wait for hard wood floors to blow out their coats. The nightly dog hair rodeo is getting old.
WHY is business such a bitch?
WHY is medicine withdrawal SO HARD to make others understand. “What do you mean you feel like you have taken a bunch of speed and don’t have any of the positive feelings from it? What does that mean?” KILL. YOU. Stupid doctor saving me from side effects… >.<
WHY does money make me twitchy?
WHY did I flip from extreme fixation on house doom and gloom to the fixation on the size of my ass? To the point of needing to talk to my shrink about it, in deep detail? Stupid OCD.
WHY do none of my friends play video games when I do, so we cannot play together?
In conclusion: whine, bitch, moan, etc.
Recipe from new kitchen shot with the Boy’s fancy camera to fill this space next. Learn to make you some killer pork booty. Several recipes stitched into one franken-recipe will be used. Boy will be drooly. Useful on buns, goes straight to YOUR buns, good inna taco, yummy just by itself.
Also, some lovely (and GRIPPING I AM SURE) yard posts to follow. I have a GARDEN, ya’ll. It is bringing out the DIY in me.