Dear Single Malt Scotch,
“You are turning thirty years old. When are you going to settle down and get married to my stomach?”
-Stephen Colbert
“You are turning thirty years old. When are you going to settle down and get married to my stomach?”
-Stephen Colbert
I am on official clothing fast. I am not allowed to buy anything. Nothing. Not a thing. No shoes. No handbags. No “it’s only a $10 shirt.” No. No. No.
Sounds like a bummer, I know, but this is life right now. Hence not keeping up with this blog.
The sandwich from heaven can be found at The Waffle in Hollywood, CA. OMG. Two pieces of delicious waffle with smoked applewood bacon baked inside and, yes, that is a fried chicken breast with cheddar cheese on top.
I am going to Los Angeles, California – a city with significance to me on many levels.
Lately I have been on a (somewhat unhealthy) shopping binge. We are all guilty of it.
I could hardly believe it myself. I knew that the musical festival that I loyally flock to every year would not let me down.
Finally! I’ve gotten around to updating this thing. Various “stumbling stones” have caused me to neglect and/or procrastinate activity on this blog. But now you will not be able to escape my rantings any longer!