I wonder if Twinkle ever wonders why I’m taking a shit in his water dish. It disturbs me greatly that he thinks it’s a good idea to drink outta there. For God’s Sake, I KISS him on that mouth. Kenny is quick to remind me, “Uh, he drinks out of the toilet” every time I go to kiss him. My reply is that I’ve had my lips on worse things in this life. He questions that rationale. I’m beginning to question it as well.
Tonight I surprised the shit out of myself (see the common “shit thread” I’m weaving here??) and without Passing Go or Collecting $200, I jumped right into cooking. With my work clothes still on! Normal practice is to change into either pajamas or sweats upon arrival at home in the evening. Sweats if I’m pretending that I’m going to go to the gym later on, jammies when I don’t even try to put on a big show about it and head directly to the couch or my chair that projects my head forward. Anyway, I had taken some ground turkey out of the freezer and knew it was either use it or lose it. I also had some farm-fresh green peppers that needed to be used, and some tomatoes that were scaring the hell out of rotten, so I put it all together and made the freshest batch of Green Peppers you could ever hope to eat. I blanched the tomatoes and put ’em in my smoothie-making blender, cooked up a little brown rice & barley to add to the meat mixture (getting in all that fiber, making Gillian McKeith proud) and stuffed those peppers. They have smelled up the house quite nicely. I may have over-seasoned the sauce, I’m not really in the mood to taste-test it, but it smells good anyway. And then Kenny came home and we went out for pizza. Peppers tomorrow night or I will kill something after all that effort.
Pizza for dinner tonight on top of pizza for lunch today. It was my Nerd Club’s Humorous Speech Contest, and I Chaired the event, providing a pizza & soda lunch for the masses. It was pizza night at Parma Tavern and as I’ve realized it’s not ALWAYS all about me, we did what Kenny wanted. He didn’t want stuffed peppers. So he had a beer, I enjoyed a salad and a piece of pizza, and we called it a night. Gillian McKeith WOULD NOT be happy with my pizza-pooping ways tonight, Oh No Sirree, she would NOT. I’ve been monitoring it since finding her poo chart. With my increased interest in getting in more fiber, fruits and vegetables, combined with eliminating beef and alcohol, I’ve been enjoying some Type 4 Healthy Poos which get a “Well Done!” from Gillian. After my pizza diet today, not so much. I know you’re all anxious to check out the chart and see how you rate. Go Get ‘Em, Tiger! It’s fascinating stuff, that poo chart.
And with last bit of talk about poo, I bid you adieu.