Late start. On account of I’m on break. And I completely did not even know what day it was.

I thought it was Tuesday like 3 days in a row. Not even kidding.

Rubio’s Christmas card looks like the photog Photshopped every single member of his family into place and didn’t *quite* get the scale right. And also WAY over processed all of them. Gah. This is just plain awful.

I do not like the word illusive.

Happy birthday, Alex Chilton.

Who the hell is Brock O’Hurn?

I don’t think I care for this sweater pattern.

Knitting sleeves is like being trapped in Purgatory.

Just one kind of foolishness after another. WHY WHY WHY would you arrest this man? WHY???

Carrie Fisher didn’t mean the same thing to me that she did to all of you. And it’s likely because I’ve never really been a Star Wars fan.

Dammit. Now I want Dunkin.

I am not buying a $25,000 car, as much as I might enjoy one.

Well that was a crappy turn of events.

Why the hell shouldn’t Ivanka Trump fly coach? WTF difference does that even make? If she had been in first class it would have been all about how she lived it up while the little people sat cramped like sardines. Leave people alone.

Who knew getting another project bag would prove to be such a hassle?

The world needs fewer of those, thanks.

I don’t like those bento box style bags.

I heart you, Tana French.

I can’t tell you why I suddenly have From Russia With Love in my head.




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hello from Stormageddon

Debbie Reynolds is in the hospital now? Damn.

I, for one, think DeVos’ appointment could be a very very good thing.

In case you were tired of celebrity news. I had no idea he had passed.

Happy birthday, Nichelle Nichols.

I don’t know about poetry.

I might need to order more yarn for this thing.

I guess I gotta go clean the stove.

Oh. I guess I do not gotta go clean the stove. Sweet.


I don’t think I have a personalized voicemail greeting on my cell. Huh. Maybe I should do that.

Maybe. Possibly.

Happy birthday, Miss Natalie.

I really need to go through all those knitting patterns and just get rid of the ones I will never ever knit. They’re taking up valuable space on the bookshelf.






I don’t know why I’m bothering to refresh that page.

I’m coooooooooold.

Love you, St. Dr. Pepper Cooper!