Another hangover in a bottle

Courtesy of my local liquor store.

It's some sort of alcohol-laden smoothie goop that you pour over ice.

That color is not the color of the bottle. That's the color of the liquid inside.

Shudder.

Beau's latest kitchen tip

"You don't need to check expiration dates. Spices stay good for thousands of years."

The rule of Crocs

You can only wear Crocs if they don't look like Crocs.

(Yes, those are Mad Libs in the background.)

My good friends are pretty lucky

Sounds like I'm a humorless bitch to my acquaintances. :)

It's the small things in life

that tend to bring us joy.

Last Friday, I walked in to the office reeling from the news about that horrible, senseless theater shooting here in the Denver area. I can't really comment on that incident; it's so horrible and wretched that I can't get my mind around it. I feel sick, and it's a feeling I can't shake.

I trudged in with a heavy heart, pulled out my chair, and found a Winchell's donut box with this note affixed to it.

My friend Erica had brought in bagels and donuts for everybody. I have the later shift, so I always get the leftover donuts (not that I'm complaining; a leftover donut is better than first choice of the oatmeal selection in my desk drawer). She gave me first choice.

Something about that is just so sweet. And in the face of evil, we all need a little sweetness.

And sprinkles.

 Thanks, Erica.

Pinterest

I love Pinterest. It's awesome.

But I have a gripe (you knew I would).

It's the nonsensical tripe masquerading as English in some of the descriptions.

Case in point (I cut off the name of the pinner--and it's nobody I know anyway).

Wow love theses

Really? How much more time would it have taken to put in a period, cap an L, and delete an S? I'm not looking for literature. I'm just looking for comprehensible English.

Am I too picky? Do I ask too much?

You bet your ass I do.

Or, in Pinterese, You bet's asses do. 

Only at my office...

Do directions like these make perfect sense.

I'VE MOVED. OTHER SIDE OF THE YELLOW SUB BEHIND THE SNOWMOBILE.

Little zickle on the prairie

I've started making my own laundry detergent. I still use the washing machine (I'm not beating my clothes on a rock down by the river or anything), but I saw this blog and wanted to give it a shot.

And it works. Really, really well.

So well, that I've gone on to make my own dish detergent (works well) and my own shower cleaner (which either doesn't work as well as I wanted or my shower is just that dirty--I'm going with the former).

I blame pinterest, my new favorite time-suck. It's unleashed my once-secret crafty DIY side.

Anyway, if I were you, I'd try the laundry detergent. I double-dog dare you. The recipe makes a ton and it works like a charm.

I feel mean when I do it

But I cackle like a mean old lady whenever I see this commercial.

It's the combination of the singing and the Grand Canyon. It's just too much.



But then I found this remix, and I feel so much better about myself. Anything that gets a remix is fair game.

Some numbers are hard to get

For instance, my pal Duff begged and pleaded with the phone company to get this phone number: 352-DUFF (don't call it; he hasn't had it for years).

However, I'm pretty sure 1-800-TOILETS wasn't hard to get at all. I'd hate to be the person who answered that line.