these days of leiderhosen

I corrected the chicken recipe. Have fun wadding the backless chicken into the brine. The bugs are definitely creepier in California: I had to mash something that looked like a 2.5 inch wingless wasp in the laundry sink the other day with a huge wad of paper towels and the gallon of white vinegar used to supplement the detergent, hollering all the time to avoid hearing the crunchy/squashy sounds. Gruesome, I tell you as I eye the nasty looking spider on the ceiling above the table. Hmmm. Looks like wool eating moths are native to this state as well. Joy. I am re-reading Madame de Sevigne's (French, 1626-1696) letters, the incorrigible gossip! Sevigne did not keep a journal and no other material by her exists other than her letters to her beloved daughter and friends. Her bed-hopping husband said he had never slept with a woman as utterly charming as his own wife. She was hotly pursued by many fabulously love-sick and well-padded men after her husband's mercifully early death, b...

Bleck, Ew and Ick! How tired am I of Jessica Simpson?! Damn cow is coming out with bloody shoes now? Ugly fucking things. I mean, really. So far, the morning has been spent writing "thanks for the completely inept interview" notes and more gossipy, pleasurable postcards. God, how I love these Garbo stamps. The rest you get this questionable blog-ism. For now. Considering sending some tormenting mail to a select few egocentric architects I used to work for/around but I cannot seem to convince the dog to poo in the envelopes. Libraries: For the record, KCLS and SPL systems are far better than anything here, even San Francisco. Amusements: Tom Waits Fresh Air Interview Happy Birthday, Uncle Marty Scorsese! All 5' 4" inches of you. Fluffy eyebrows and all. Can't imagine why you'd go and divorce the delicous Isabella Rossellini, but there you have it. I quote your American Express Commercial at least once a week. I am trying very hard not to run out buy a tutu a...