Gotta nuke somethin....

Every time I drive to Eau Claire from my house I go through this little podunk town of 300 some (I made that number up based on its 4 houses, restaurant and gas station. Close enough.) called Junction City. I've decided that, were there a nuclear holocaust and a post-apocalyptic nation resulted, I would start civilization anew there. Just in case you were wondering where to go should something like that happen, go to Junction City. I'm runnin the place and it's gonna kick a little ass.

Oddbox.

Minding my own business...

So I was digging through my pantry and found a few containers of cookies my grandma had dropped off. Knowing the cookies were going to be hard as rocks (almost literally), I decided I'd go for some of the softer looking baked goods. I pulled out some filled pastry looking thing and then became disgusted as I realized it was filled with prunes or dates or some volatile mixture of the two.

I asked my mom if my nose was correct in assuming what was in them. She simply replied, "Yup! Hunny, pooping's in our blood. Everyone in the family loves prunes/dates. Pooping's in our blood."

Dear god, never repeat those words again while I'm trying to find something sweet to eat.

Pfefferscheiße.

Big Fish

Don't you ever insult Ewan McGregor in front of me. Ever! DON'T DO IT!

Liquid.