While the weather is still warm (hot, hellish), try some lemon zest, course salt & pepper, and minced thyme in your butter. Smear (“scmmmeeeearrrr!”) it over some toasted chunks of bread and try really, really hard not to roll your eyes in ecstasy. Also, dip some fresh radishes in this butter; holy blown diet, batman! This the stuff Paula Dean’s dreams are made of.
I often wonder about people who change their names. Take Stacy for example. If she changed her name to, say, Rebekkah, would she then be known as ecstasy? …get it? Ex-Stacy.? Ecstasy? Oh, never mind.
Katy Perry’s “Firework!” is stuck in my head. All day long, I’ve been hearing, “boom!boom!boom! Even brighter than the moon!moonmoon!…” I suppose that’s better than the theme song to “Real American Hero”. Remember that show? That curly headed guy who wobbled when he flew? …yeah. That song was terrible. “Who could it be? It’s just meeeeee…!”
Crap. Now that one’s stuck.
…maybe I should try to find an old episode of “Cheers!”. …one with Coach…
I hate toilet paper commercials. Like I’m gonna NOT buy TP, right? A slogan or jingle or cartoon does not make me need the stuff more. TP commercials are the down fall of civilizations. The energy wasted could have been used to cure cancer or save the DoDo birds or stop The Kardashians.