Not pretty. But if you have been rolling your eyes lately over my evil fridge finger-pointing, and wanted conclusive evidence of it's malicious intent, here here it is.
And in case this wasn't evidence enough of my food wasting this week (after such a good week last week, with the much-debated forgotten cup of coffee the only waste I had to report), I give you detailed, poorly photographed close ups.
Because I'm generous like that.
And
I welcome your judgement and castigation. The floor is now open.
The same circumstances that kept me from cleaning out my fridge (aside from my fear that it will bite me again) are also the reason for the two (TWO) takeout containers posing jauntily in these pictures, and the fact that my house is a wreck right now.
This means that since tomorrow is our Second Hand Smorgasbord and Cheapskate Extravaganza day, the fridge will stay uncleaned, the house will stay a wreck, and the laundry will stay un-laundered. But by golly, we'll have the clothes we need for the summer and fall.
On a completely unrelated note, I wrote a poem to Terry Pratchett.
[awkward pause while everyone re-reads that sentence and tries to fit it in with the reality they're used to]
I don't write poems (not since University days with Lannis, anyway). I certainly don't post poems, and I have to say that I don't really read them much either. I am painfully aware of exactly how weird this is.
Those of you that aren't into weird are excused. No hard feelings. If it wasn't my blog, and I wasn't typing right now, I'd leave too.
In fact, I'll even put my next and last post links here and pretend this is the end. The end. Go away.
* * *
Terry,
You say you want to die.
And I wonder:
What do you think is going to happen?
What do you know about God and death and The End?
Or The Beginning?
I can speculate.
Postulate.
Ruminate? Maybe I've gotten off track.
Watergate? No, that's not right.
I can guess, I guess,
From how Sam thinks,
Who Carrot is,
And what Death SAYS.
Nuggan and the Duchess are an interesting case study,
But I don't know what you know.
Do you?
