Verbal Tapas

They say eating a series of small, snack-like meals throughout the day is healthier than gorging yourself on three squares. Does that same logic apply to a blog post, y'think?

After 23 years of eating Oreo Sandwich Cookies the regular way (you know-- twist, lick, eat), I finally realized they taste way better when eaten in bites like a regular cookie. This, of course, has changed my entire perspective on life.


This picture is currently topping the front page of Reddit, with the headline, "What the fuck kind of measurement is CNN using here?" Indeed. Imagine:

"How tall are you, George?"

"I'm one and a fifth refrigerators tall, Linda."

You know what they say about tall refrigerators...



I bought gnocchi and artichokes and a fresh tomato and sage cream sauce at the Farmer's Market yesterday and made them tonight, despite having poor cooking skills on a good day. The artichokes are totally the best part. I love these things and need to come up with some good recipes starring them.

I've spent the last three weeks not blogging and instead wondering how Michael Sarver the rugged roughneck (we get it) keeps not getting voted off American Idol, then reminding myself that true Americans love country music and that I'm just a flag-burning unpatriotic liberal. Here's hoping tonight one of the bleeding-heart socialist contestants bests him. I miss Jason Castro.

Ever since I moved into my new house, I've developed a curse where every time I get delivered a magazine, it rains. Our mailbox, of course, is a leaky joke of a thing, resulting in sad, soggy magazines. Today I got nothing, but it's supposed to rain for the next few days so there's still time. As long as Robert Pattinson's not on the cover of my Entertainment Weekly (as he is 75% of the issues), I suppose I'll be okay.

Now I'm going to go relish eating an Oreo the right way and prepare to will Michael Sarver's Idol ouster into fruition with my mind (I'm far too cool to vote, you know). I will be back, preferably before another three weeks are up.