On Friday night Josh and I both got an intense sugar craving with no cake in the house. Naturally, we drove to Shaw’s in our pajamas in search of snacks, and Josh decided he wanted some marzipan. (Because what embodies hedonism more than lying in bed with your lover and a tube of marzipan each?) And we COULD NOT find it. There were only a few people in the store at that hour, and most of them ended up involved in our search as well. If I worked the night shift at Shaw’s, I’d be desperate for entertainment too.
We finally found it after 20 minutes, and left triumphant with it, a German chocolate cake, and two cans of whipped cream.
Once home, Josh turned to me and said, “you realize everyone in that store thought you were pregnant and had some weird-ass craving, right?”
Today Holly and I went shopping for lingerie and trinkets, preparing for our upcoming stage kitten gig in the Vermont Burlesque Festival. Josh stayed home to work on some art, and I decided to bring him some candy. Party City sells 15 chocolate coins for a dollar. They had every color under the rainbow – EXCEPT gold.
I have a personal tumblr, on which I post things too controversial/personal/just plain weird for Facebook. I write so many thoughtful polemics on things that bug me, and I get almost no notes. I make a stupid late-night shitpost about rolling around in butter pretending to be a loaf of bread, and get reblogged all over the place.
I hate that fucking site.