I wandered over to your blog to tell you that you are enabler for telling me about Club Fife in my blog. Those little thongy things look very comfy and it's very comforting to have some basics that feel nice and look good when you just don't have the energy to wear the full-scale diva pantie-poos.

Your story of your boy's stir-fry reminds me of this place called Hu Hot... do they have one in your town? It's a stir-fry do-it-yourself buffet where you pick out and dish up the noodles, the meat, the veggies, the sauces, and you give it to the cooks and stand in line as you watch them cook it. True abominations can be produced at that place. Even if you do a good job, you might get the aftertaste of some culinary orgy that was cooked on the grill right before you. But it's all-you-can-eat, so the one in my town is constantly clogged by "eaters" (as opposed to "diners") who equate quantity with quality. But when I left that place, I was rip-roaring bitchy, so maybe there's something about a really confusing stir-fry that just heightens the irritability factor.

But I hope retiring with some yummy BPAL olfactory influences made you awake feeling much, much happier...

My guy's the same way ... the more flavors the better! He tries to tone it down a bit for me when he cooks, because he knows I prefer simple, less complicated-tasting fare. Then I feel a bit guilty for reining him in ...

I wandered over to your blog to tell you that you are enabler for telling me about Club Fife in my blog. Those little thongy things look very comfy and it's very comforting to have some basics that feel nice and look good when you just don't have the energy to wear the full-scale diva pantie-poos.

I am happy to enable. I adore them! The difference between the Modal and regular cotton is seriously huge. And to add to the easiness, they go through the washer and dryer just fine, and only get softer with washing. I love my diva pantie-poos, but I'm not much for careful laundry.

Your story of your boy's stir-fry reminds me of this place called Hu Hot... do they have one in your town? It's a stir-fry do-it-yourself buffet where you pick out and dish up the noodles, the meat, the veggies, the sauces, and you give it to the cooks and stand in line as you watch them cook it. True abominations can be produced at that place. Even if you do a good job, you might get the aftertaste of some culinary orgy that was cooked on the grill right before you. But it's all-you-can-eat, so the one in my town is constantly clogged by "eaters" (as opposed to "diners") who equate quantity with quality. But when I left that place, I was rip-roaring bitchy, so maybe there's something about a really confusing stir-fry that just heightens the irritability factor.

I don't know, now I'll have to look it up... Ok, they don't have one here, but I know there are other mongolian barbecue places here. Come to think of it, it's been a long time since I've had mongolian barbecue... Though I am usually careful to put together something pretty un-mixed-up. Now I'm hungry, damnit!

But I hope retiring with some yummy BPAL olfactory influences made you awake feeling much, much happier...

Seriously. I broke out my bottle of 13 today, and was reminded of how unusual and wonderful it is. It's like being surrounded in a very faint cloud of cocoa-scented cactus. I can't have a bad day when I smell so good.

My guy's the same way ... the more flavors the better! He tries to tone it down a bit for me when he cooks, because he knows I prefer simple, less complicated-tasting fare. Then I feel a bit guilty for reining him in ...

I 'm glad to hear we're not the only couple like this! My boyfriend does 90% of the cooking at home, so I am generally extremely flexible about what he makes... but this was just too much. The sauce just tasted sour (from the barbecue sauce) while the seasoning was such a mish-mash it made me even more nautious. I almost never say anything when I think he's goten a little over crazy with the seasoning, but this was just so far over the top, I physically couldn't eat it. Eh. At least he was understanding about it.

Ack! Franken-stir-fry reminds me of a recent pizza catastrophe over at Chez Snark: regular pizza crust, mashed roasted root veggies (parsnips, carrots, potatoes, sweet potatoes, onions, garlic), a think layer of sour cream, basil pesto, black olives, green olives stuffed with feta cheese, mozzerella, parmesean, and cotija cheese on top.

It was... weird. Too sweet. Loaded down. The Mister hated it so much he refused to eat more than the 1.5 pieces he had (and yes, it was his idea to put all the regular pizza stuff on top of the roast root veggie base... the sour cream was his idea as a sort of "fat barrier" between the mash and the pesto). Being my mother's daughter, I had to eat all the leftovers. Some things just should NOT be on pizzas.