I just renewed my TV guide subscription. I guess that makes me an 83-year-old Nebraska housewife.
There is a local restaurant whose slogan is "Some People Guess ... the Well-Informed Know!" What does that even mean? Know WHAT? And what does it have to do with a restaurant? Oh, and they charge seventeen bucks for "Beaver Cut" pot roast. What the hell is a "Beaver Cut"?
If your veterinarian's office does not use e-mail - not even to send test results to consulting vets - is that a deal-breaker? I mean, I can't figure it out - they've got a computer system, for Christ's sake - but they don't use e-mail? I'm thinking I need to find another vet. Again. Because this whole "we'll fax the cardiologist the blood work-up (and hope she gets it)" is not working for me.
My boss said something so incredibly rude to me the other morning that I had to give him a pass on it. Because it was so far out of character, I can only conclude that he had temporarily been taken over by an alien or something.
I haven't cooked myself a decent dinner in over a month. Pizza and rotisserie chicken will only take you so far. I need to get cooking again.
Found, at the local library book sale, for twenty-five cents: