I sincerely apologize if you’re offended by the title of this post, but what the hell, I’m sick and I don’t care who knows it. I’m still feeling achy, drippy and crabby ... sort of a Howdygram version of the Seven Dwarfs. (Sorry, Walt, wherever you are.)
About the only thing I can do when I feel like this — aside from blowing my nose — is to EAT THINGS, so this morning I sent Sam to the supermarket for my craving du jour: a tube of Oscar Mayer Authentic Braunschweiger. (Not to be confused, apparently, with FAUX braunschweiger.)
No kidding, braunschweiger is a true gourmet treat on white toast with a layer of pickle relish and a side order of napkins, but I waited until Sam left for work this afternoon because I don’t think he’s really convinced that braunschweiger is an edible substance. (And he scares easily.)
At this point I’m ready for a hot shower, this week’s episode of “Hardcore Pawn” and probably a movie afterwards. Sam won’t be home from work until sometime tomorrow morning so I’m on my own with the remote. I’m thinking Doris Day. Don’t forget to floss.
No comments:
Post a Comment