the BRUTAL, UGLY truth of my FABULOUS, BEAUTIFUL life.
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9:05 p.m. + 2003-10-26 = pear scones and then a thought or two about masturbation. (these are a non-sequitir).
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around packaging my 12th loaf of tuscan bread, i was so-over my day. this was approximately 9.30am. i worked (and when i say worked, i mean WORKED... put my thang down, flippt it and reverst it) until 4.00pm. that's 11 hours of work. sheesh. my pear scones looked positively gorgeoused and i laced them with nutmeg and honey along with embedding a full pear slice on the top of each scone as homage to my cheffin' love[r]. all because pears are a hard sell. and apparently all this beautification and fancy-schmansy-ness didn't change the fact that people don't want pears. tragic. they WERE the best scone of the day. (blueberry-peach muffins went like hotcakes (strange expression... i can't imagine why anyone would want hotcakes... unless it's a swedish pancake...)).
right, right... i'm talking about food. all y'all are bored. well, it's either food or my man cos nothing else ever crosses my mind anymore (as many of you know from day-to-day chitchat.)
what was i saying? i don't remember. i need to go do homework OR abuse colour printer privileges and print out naughtish photographs of my own personal pornographer and have a go with myself.
i would say i'm torn, but the latter is obviously the more urgent of the two.
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comments?? --->[thisaway]--->[[looks to me as though there are...]]---> 0 repercussions thus far
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[prologue] *** [epilogue] ***[plottwist!]
[[erstwhile]] ***** [[forthwith]]
