Oh wait, isn’t that the theme for every post? Whatever, I feel chatty tonight, so let’s chat. In random order of course, because that is how my mind rolls these days.
First off, I want to firmly state that:
Ok, so that was more like incredibly impassioned yelling. But, Seriously. Yall. O.M.G. – I am in wallpaper hell! Le sigh. I have opened a can of worms of epic proportions. Think “Let’s take down the wallpaper, which leads to the discovery of a second layer of wallpaper, which when removed leads to the discovery of some important but gross things called M&M, as in mold and mildew.” Yes, Holy Fudge. But that is a blog post for another time. Assuming I survive this gluey, steamy, floral, bleach scented nightmare that is my life right now.
You should feel sorry for me now. IT IS THE DEVIL I tell you.
In other news, it has come to my attention that Marshall isn’t the only cat with an eating disorder. Freckles, it appears, has developed bulimia, as evidenced by her incessant gorging (she’s even pushing Marshall out-of-the-way to eat his food) followed by mass quantities of cat throw up. I need a cat whisperer.
Sugar has recently invaded my life and I find that I suddenly have the willpower of a heroin addict in saying no to sweets. This coupled with my lack of fitness routine and my “I’m still training for a half marathon appetite” has led to a “come to Oprah” moment. If I’m going to get into that bridesmaid’s dress in June for one of my besties, then I had better check into Jillian Michaels’ boot camp stat.
I had also better quit buying Oreo’s.
And eating Chik Fil A for lunch.
Meanwhile, Somanna, in an effort to prove his full assimilation into Southern Redneck culture, truly outdid himself this past weekend.
Yes my friends, that is duct tape holding the tail light together. We have reached new depths.
As some of you might have seen on the book of face, Somanna’s tail light got punched out one night and he was, uh, just a tish upset about the whole thing. His fbk status involved expletives that my inner Southern lady cannot simply be-ahr to repeat, but just know that involved mothers, male anatomy parts and lots of f-bombs.
That’s my man – classy and resourceful. Sorry ladies, he’s taken!
Psstt! – Somanna didn’t want me to post that last photo because his thumbs up looked “gimpy.”
Yes, honey, I’m sure with the “strong” thumbs up no one will notice the duct tape.
And that’s the latest on how we’re holding it together at Peaches & Curry.
With duct tape and some wallpaper glue.
It’s the ties that bind.