the little things that kill

I finally got tired of having to change the stupid toilet roll. So I made a sign.

( the original had pictures to go with it )

If I have to change it again, I'm going to add another line, that says, "So do it yourself!"

explorations into the workings of Darcy's stomach

What is it about barbecue?

Normally, I can't eat beef. My mouth goes, I TASTE DEAD ANIMALS! IT'S RAW NUUU~ T.T, and no, I don't know how it can make that connection, especially since I can eat under-done potatoes without much of a grimace. Anyway.

But there it was, the weekly special: Barbecue beef, and my mouth is all, MMM YUMMEH I WANT~~, and I go, WTF, and get it.

Granted, I do have to take out about half of it to keep from being overwhelmed by the MEAT! NUUUU! reaction, but in between bites, my mouth is going, I WANT! WANT WANT WANT. NO, DON'T GIVE ME POTATOES, BARBECUE~~~

Yes, my mouth talks in all caps.

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And then on the way home, I get distracted by the ( NO to Prop 85 rant )

love snack

CLASPD SCACCDD/SCALCCD (or something). Waaa~~ too many Cs~~~