Seriously. I'm eating one right now. And it is goood. Thank you twinkie, for your gift of cream.
oh, poo. Everytime I set it down to type it leaves twinkie droppings on my desk. I'm gonna have to lick those off.
Is cleanliness really next to Godliness? Or is that just one of those things people say, like "All's fair in love and war" or "I don't have time to watch T.V."
If, hypothetically speaking, I haven't done my dishes all week, am I really more evil?
Whatever. Let's move on. I'm bored of writing about that. We went to our ward Christmas party tonight. And the food was good. Which was a nice change. Not to complain. I am not complaining. A free dinner, not cooked by me, is always worth it, no matter what. But tonight we had some sort of beef brisket, which was pretty awesome. The POINT is, we also had baked potatoes. Which is just fine. Baked potatoes are like the plain white shirt of the vegetable world. SO BORING, until you accessorize and then they are great to have around. I dated a guy in college who was that way too.
What I am trying to say is that I realized that baked potatoes are one of those foods I would rather eat in private. I put a nice slice of butter on and mixed its melty goodness into the hot recesses of my potato, but it wasn't enough and I wanted more. Only problem was, we were sitting right next to the line of people still waiting to get their food and I could feel all their eyes on me. Watching me. Watching my potato. All ready to be shocked at my exorbitant butter use. I could almost hear the talk on Sunday: "She seems so nice. But did you see how much butter she used on her potato? What kind of a woman uses that much butter? I won't be calling HER to babysit again!"
So I didn't do it. I had a healthy, low-fat baked potato for dinner, and my intense love of butter is still my closely guarded secret. And those gossiping High Priests have nothing to gab about. But the joke is on them because what they don't know is that I snuck a 2nd brownie for dessert. Ha!