Tag Archives: West Side Nights

I Can’t Win for Losing

Someone or something somewhere in the Universe is opposed to letting me be great, and you know what? That person or thing can eat a bag of dicks.
‘Cause this right here? Straight like that.

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I’m Out of My Mind…Come and Chase Me?

The granola bar I’m eating tastes the same way that a hamster smells. I’m not sure how I feel about that.

This, of course, has absolutely nothing to do with anything related to this blog. In fact,  I’m only eating this because tonight’s finale of the always amazing Doctor Who played with my emotions in the worst way because Steven Moffat is the son of Satan and I just can’t cope with what he put me through with that episode. Son. So many emotions. The freakin’ feels.  I can’t even go into what just had me screaming with fangirlish giddiness and shouting obscenities at my computer screen because, well

(since WordPress and Windows Live Writer are opposed to letting me be great, click the image to see the gif in motion)

But, listen. It was great and I’m going to subject myself to the torture when it premieres here in the US in about an hour.

So anyway, I’m eating, or at least I’m trying to. I’m not quite sure what’s going on in my mouth right now. I mean, the package says that it’s a peanut butter granola bar, but all my brain is registering is that the scent emanating from the back corner of every kindergarten classroom in America is dancing across my tongue. My taste buds and I are confused. What the hell, Nature Valley?

Actually, what the hell, Moffat? This is all your fault.

Ahem. Moving on.

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Southern Souffle’s Brown Butter Blondies

I have a bit of a confession to make:
I like to bake.
I like to bake a lot.
Cakes, cookies, pies, breads—all that. Give me the ingredients, the right equipment and let me loose in the kitchen and I will bake you whatever your heart desires and your sweet tooth craves.
That said, the quality of my life would drastically improve if I had a KitchenAid Stand Mixer. People who don’t know how I feel about baking think I’m joking when I say that, but I assure you that I’m not. I don’t even need a particular color—though I do think the Imperial Black is one of the sexiest kitchen appliances I’ve ever seen—I just need this mixer in my life. ‘Cause what I have now? Well, it leaves a lot to be desired. It gets the job done, though.

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