So I'm sitting here today, pondering a self-diagnosis of lupus (due to some recent bruising I can't explain) and I feel like I need to put up a funny one, because people get sick of my pontificating and spewing my leftist liberal agenda at them. My house smells like a boiling fish head, mostly due to the fact that there was, recently, a fish head being boiled on my stove top.
This is because my 11 year old wants to make an authentic French meal tonight, after sitting through "Julie & Julia" with me the other night. Thank goodness his father (and coincidentally, my husband) is a former sous chef for a popular, albeit closed, French restaurant.
Anyway, back to lupus and being funny: it's almost certainly a scientific fact that one cannot be funny in a place that smells like boiling fish heads. Of course, enter the 7 year old who wonders out loud, "Will the eyeball of that fish boil right out?" I don't know dude, but sign me up for the stock that you make with boiled fish head-eyeball broth. What the hell is wrong with the French? Merde.
And now I'm tasked with writing a 130th (that's right: ONE HUNDRED AND THIRTIETH) of these things for you, and I don't even really know who you are. I mean, who even cares by now. If you've read all 130 then, first off, let me apologize for all the time of your life I've wasted that you're never getting back, and second, let me add one more to the pile of wasted time.
Here are a few things I've learned recently that seem a little wonky.
Trader Joe's is owned by a German named Karl Albrecht, and there are 4,000 of them worldwide, worth about 70 billion dollars globally. The funny little monikers on the TJ's brand are no joke: Trader Ming and Trader Giotto are for real. Albrecht owns the Aldi food chain too!
Chick-Fil-A thinks only heterosexuals should eat chicken and waffles fries. That's all I'm saying about that.
If a tree falls in the woods and no one is around to hear it, it may or may not make a noise, because a tree fell in my back yard and people WERE around to hear it and it still made no noise. Wonky, huh?
Psalm 137 : 9 (NIV) says, "Happy is the one who seizes your infants and dashes them against the rocks." I don't know what that means, or what the Psalmist meant when he wrote it, but it's seriously weird.
My house now smells like creme brulee, which is way better than boiled eye fish head. I think we can all agree on that one.