I have to dash out the door to get my car fixed, because I broke both my side mirrors. Yes, I did. I ran into the driver's side mirror with the garbage can when I was dragging said can to the curb, and when the mirror hung there sadly, I was super careful about dragging the garbage can on the OTHER side of the car the next week.
So, Ned is taking me to and from work today, and I am going to lunch with my pal Sharsky, and Sarah the Poet, and my boss who calls Ned MAMF (middle-aged-man-friend) and Jane West. Oh, and Deb Downer. So there's an upside to car repair--the fun lunch.
But speaking of food, yesterday in the comments, we got on the subject of Velveeta, and Faithful Reader Kate said she loves her the Velveeta, and I said you know, I do too. I am not afraid to admit it.
I also enjoy me the Wonder Bread, but mostly I like it because it reminds me of my gramma. Wonder Bread commercials used to go on and on about how full of nutrients it was, and how big and strong it'd make you. So when I was at her house, I'd eat one slice and say, "Gramma, try to pick me up now." And she gasp and struggle and carry on about how big and strong I'd gotten, and how she couldn't possibly pick me up. The fact that I was 35 when we had that conversation may have had something to do with her inability to lift me.
I kid you. I was like five. Girlfriend coulda hauled me halfway to Texas had she felt like it.
So what odd, not nutritious, socially unacceptable food do you like? Go ahead. We won't poke fun at you. Much.