so today i was carrying some hardboiled eggs in my jacket pocket, and i realized it was just redundant. who needs external ovaries? (assuming you’re not a man who’s feeling left out) granted i didn’t MAKE the hardboiled eggs, but when i took them out, it was with a lot less bloodshed than the way my body does it. i’m not trying to say my way is better. i’m just saying it took 0 tampons and 5 seconds as opposed to 5-7 days and an estro-fest of emotional bungee jumping where the cord breaks and swimming laps in pools of tears.
what are you looking at?
courtesy of Joy of Baking.
today when i was walking to find my lunch (i call it lunchquest), i passed a very cocky-looking young man (prob. mid twenties, caucasian, in white-collar work clothes). now normally, my SOP with cocky-looking men is avoiding them at all cost. i do not make eye contact, maintain at least 3 feet of distance and generally act like a tree. however, this man looked so cocky that i couldn’t look away. it looked like he just landed a $5,000,000,000 deal and married a supermodel in the same day. so i did the unthinkable. i made eye contact. it was a test to see if he bowed under the pressure of an awkward girl. he didn’t. he smirked at me. SMIRKED. as if to say, “don’t even go there, misfit.” that’s why we stick to SOP. i learned my lesson.
so i got thai takeout today. open and shut case right? thai food rules. EXCEPT i got a vegetable soup, and they threw two tons of iceberg lettuce in it. now whatever, most people who eat burgers consider iceberg lettuce a vegetable. as a vegetarian and therefore a vegetable snob, i consider iceberg lettuce a by-product of the cold war. a truce achieved between the us and the former soviet union to prevent a nuclear holocaust. in any case, now the thai people are throwing it all up in their veggie soup and i have to sift through mangled translucent leafy carcasses as i’m trying to get to the lone button mushroom that sits, defeated, at the bottom.
courtesy of Gourmet Sleuth.
also my thai iced coffee, which is like getting a permanent IV drip of sugar and caffeine into your heart (like love without the commitment), has a hot pink straw. i don’t know what kind of statement i’m making, but it’s hot pink. i mean, hawt pink. i think it means i like to be flamboyent about what i’m drinking. i should put on tap shoes.
thai iced coffee + me 4eva! *and pose*
courtesy of Toronto Dance Industry.