Corn on the cob, dripping with butter, and beer.
It’s what’s for dinner.
I'm the book that beat the speed-reader, and I'm the card the dealers won't touch. And it's just not true I'm a man-eater; all the same, we should probably go dutch.
The things you pick up as you go.
I call this one…the Single Girl Dinner.
That’s also a 22 ounce bottle, just to be clear. Because nothing says “I will die alone and then my 62 cats will feast on my cold corpse” like more fluid ounces.
Game Plan: Drink another 2 Shipyard Pumpkinhead’s to my face while watching the rest of Blade: Trinity. Pass out. Wake up at 4 AM. Put this same outfit on from yesterday. Proceed to drive to New York for an inter-state work conference.
Like The Little Engine That Could, this girl says, “I think I can, I think I can, I think I can…”
Burlington tomorrow to do client stuff; show Tessa around; actually go shopping; and who could ever forget— drink $1 beers at 4 PM.
And I have a brand-new green wood-grain print off-the-shoulder tunic to wear that shows off the bangin’ new silhouette. I love winter because it makes me soft and curvy; summer because being active gets me back to being tanned and toned. Bring it on, college bros. How I’ve missed you and your lack of charms yet college-educated mindsets.
So I drank my dinner last night.
2 EXCELLENT Bellini’s, a Shipyard pumpkin ale, and a chocolate stout.
Let’s see, that’s peach juice, so fruit…pumpkin counts as a veg, right?…and dessert. Looks like that’s about the food pyramid.