Just dropping in to clarify that I haven't been MIA because I died of Salmonella poisoning (HEY-OHHHHH—SMALL VICTORIES!!!!); we're working for The Man this week. For it is The Man who keeps us in house dresses and Kendall-Jackson Chardonnay. Oh, and Lexie Briggs, who donated yet AGAIN this week. God I love that woman. The Man and Lexie Briggs—ideal co-pilots for a fantasy naked hot tub party??? Don't mind if I do, and don't mind if I do. (Let it be known I was about to make an unbelievably nauseating skimmer joke right there but managed to edit myself. You're welcome.)
Alright, momma's gonna go make some money, but I'll be back. And I have a shit-ton of half-written posts hanging out on my desktop, so hopefully not only will I be back, but I'll be coming. In your faces. With posts. Good. Glad you went there with me on that one. I leave you now two quick yummies and a quick reminder to follow us on Twitter because I'll be in Philly for the rest of the week and weekend working with Chris, and Meg/Chris work sessions tend to produce a lot of unfortunate tweeting about "The Price is Right" and scissoring. Not necessarily in that order. KBYE.
1.) I was pokin' around my parent's basement last week and found my COMPLETE COLLECTION OF AMERICAN GIRL TRADING CARDS IN THE OFFICIAL COLLECTIBLE BINDER. No big deal. No big fuckin' mint-condition deal. Anyway, I was flipping through the binder and reminiscing and feeling warm and fuzzy when this card caught my eye:
Does that, or does that not look like the official trading card for 18th Century Molestation? And what does it say about me that if there were such a thing as century specific molestation trading cards, I would pay whatever it takes to get the circa Industrial Revolution one because I have a thing for fingerless gloves and "Spinning Jenny" wordplay?
2.) Meglet and Monty. Eatin' raisins. Looking uncomfortably Asian. And rull tired. 4 lyfe.