I sit here in the cool breeze of our 25 year old floor fan, watching Guest-cat’s hair float in the sun beam, listening to my possessed iTunes library (I shut off iTunes. iTunes starts up again. Repeat), and wonder what on earth I could possibly write about. Let’s go free form:
Lays Ketchup Potato Chips
My cubicle neighbour is selling snack size potato chips. I rarely eat potato chips, but at 50 cents a bag and with a gentle-push on my chair, I can roll right on over and make my purchase. Who can resist the bargain and convenience? I have eaten my way through three bags. They don’t taste even remotely like ketchup. Perhaps it should be catsup chips. That I could understand.
Gin and Tonic
What’s a Walsh Cooks blog post without mentioning gin and tonic. Enough said.
Keurig and K-Cups
I resisted this for years, thinking it was a fad that go the way of mood rings and pet rocks. They still exist. We got one at work. I am completely sold on the convenience. Now I spent minutes a month looking for cheap k-cups, drawing Pro and Con diagrams in my mind about getting a machine for our apartment. I’m not quite there yet, since I’m the only coffee drinker in this home, but still…. And by the way, President’s Choice generic cup Dark Roast is A W E S O M E. It turns me from nasty mean morning person into happy dancing nice person after only one sip.
Buy from a local farmer. Get the pretty coloured ones in pink and green and blue. No other egg will ever compare to these. The fact I just bought 18 white eggs from Save-on for cheap is irrelevant. Do as I say. Not as I do.
Tell me what makes them stink after a day, why this happens and what I can do to stop it (other than bleaching them into pale, colourless squares of fabric). We are clean people. Our dish rags are apparently swimming in filth and disease. I honestly can’t think of what crap we are wiping up to make them smell so bad.
I am excited and delighted to be invited by people at Sabor Divino for a media night event. I talked to a friend about the place and he rattled off a few items on their menu to me. Octopus was one of them. I love seafood. Fish seafood. Shrimp seafood. Lobster seafood. I have even eaten baby octopus. Deep fried to smithereens baby octopus (no, it wasn’t wearing diapers and didn’t have a soother in its mouth – I know you pictured it that way, but it didn’t). But this sounds like adult octopus. Octopus that the Portugese eat every Wednesday for supper, like we eat BBQ burgers. Octopus that could call a World Cup game. Octopus that could squeeze me until my head pops off. Octopus that can suction cup onto my back and make for a difficult and awkward day at work. I am a bit nervous about this, but will live up to my tag line in Twitter, “Everything. At least once”.
And with that my lovely two readers in Brazil, I am calling it a night.