Aw, Peeps!

Oh, man I got some things to say about soup.

Chris is reading on the couch. He ate a hearty (Ed. or is it hardy?) lunch and only had 4 normal size beers.

I ate a banana for breakfast (with peanut butter! I keep a jar of peanut butter handy at my desk) and a chocolate bar for lunch and a coffee mug of milk that was meant to count as my “protein” until I could eat my lunch but then I was BUSY and I had to buy an iPad on Cyber Monday and buy my flight to Harry Potter World and so that milk was sort of my lunch and then I went to the bar and said to myself, “I’ll drink bottles. Because they’re only 12 ounces, which is less than draft.” But then I selected 5 bottled beers IN A ROW that were 16 ounces and super high alcohol and now I am drunker than Chris who is claiming that his hearty/hardy lunch and the 8 wings we split (I was chatty and only had 3) counts as his dinner, so I was the one who got home and looked in the fridge and we have 3 different take out containers of soup. SOUP! Two are from the Chinese we ordered on Saturday. One is a homemade brussel sprout/potato soup I made last week. Right? Brussel sprout soup? Gross! But I was too lazy/hot to roast (I’m a person who is always hot so turning on the oven to roast something is a thing I never do, but soup seemed sensible because it was a 20 minute simmer), so I googled “brussel sporut soup” and it’s a thing, and you combine brussel sprouts with either potatoes (yes, I have these) or beans (nope, need to soak all night), and it’s soup! But because I was also hungry and a couple of beers in when I made the soup I added too much curry powder and too much garlic salt. So the soup is spicy. And salty. And then some more spicy. So I’m the only one eating it, but who wants to eat leftover brussel sprout soup? That’s pretty much the worst. So that’s why that’s there.

And then on Saturday I had a cold and wanted both wonton and hot and sour so I ordered both. Fuck it. So I have SO MANY SOUPS LEFTOVER. And on the train home in front of us there were two dudes. One was wearing those minimal running shoes that are like barefoot running. Okay, sure. Do that. But you know, when people (“people”) ran barefoot, asphalt and concrete did not exist. So have fun running the wrong way on an asphalt bike lane, Dickwad. (Which is what I said out loud. And I can barely hear so everything I say out loud is at normal person shouting level.) (No, ask people about my lack of “inside voice”) And then the other dude was wearing those saggy diaper pants. Diaper pants! NO! And his hat matched! Glad you can sew your own clothes, but I wish you knew how to do an inseam!

Again. No functional internal monologue. So Chris shushed me and ushered me to our apartment where I stumbled upstairs and made fun of myself for my shitty soup.

I’ve cleared the brussel sprout and wonton. On to the hot and sour.

Night farts.

Posted November 28, 2011 at 9:39pm || home