Posts from the ‘Where’s Jeeves When You Need Him?’ Category

Yummy Cuteness

We have internet again!
Truthfully, we never actually lost it, but we are redecorating and Georgy had to unplug us. Thus I have been cut off from the world for a short time. I like being back.
Sometimes, I am strange. I recognize this in myself and make no excuses for it, nor do I think I am a better person for knowing it about myself. I just am and that’s that. I do enjoy it rather. But on that note, I absolutely love marshmallows!
I think they are adorable. In fact, I have actually told people that I think they are sexy. That is a joke, but I do think marshmallows are pretty cute. I have similar feelings toward loaves of bread, eggs, and chocolate chips. However, I brought up marshmallows for a reason.
The otherday when Heather Georgy and I were in Target, we found an asortment of marshmallows, and one of them was gingerbread. I’ll pause here to give you a moment to appreciate what I just wrote.

… I know! Gingerbread marshmallows! I got them of course. But now we come to the problem. These fun little gingerbread marshmallows that smell so very yummy … are actually shaped like little gingerbread men.
So I ask you, is it at all fair to take marshmallows which I already think are adorable, and turn them in to even more adorable little people? They are gingerbread marshmallow people! How is that ok?
I was in love with the first one I pulled out of the bag.
I just hope he’ll forgive me for eating all his friends.


Toast Butter Killfree

Does anyone else think it’s unfair that my bed seems to be in the coldest spot in the house?
I don’t mean like Heather and Georgy are trying to freeze me to death; I just mean because when I wake up, it is always colder than I think it is. It makes it harder to get out of bed. We were supposed to have our windows replaced this summer. And you know what? I don’t even think our heater works all that well.
So the roomies and I have started a new tradition of sorts. Every Tuesday, Georgy and I walk to the restaurant where Heather works and we play stump trivia. We are of course amazing — actually not even, but we always have fun. We even make the lady who does the trivia laugh with our ridiculous made up answers when we don’t know the real ones.
For example, Toast Butter is a famous actor who was either killed or killed someone in a movie. I can’t remember which at the moment, but it’s always fun.
Tonight we had a new teem mate who actually knew stuff and we ended up getting second place. Yay team! And even better, we got a ride home!
So now I am back home … in bed … brrrrrrr.

What’s On Your Easel?

How do you paint passion?
I often think about how certain ideas or emotions would look if they could be looked at. Some, like love, have such popularized symbols that we hardly question them. When most children think love they think hearts. Of course the shape of a heart is different than an actual blood pumping heart, and a few of the stories of how the heart got its shape are not terribly romantic. But how would you paint things that don’t have a universal image already?
Whenever I write about my emotions and how a certain something makes me feel, I have to give images. Not actual images, but word pictures like metaphor and similly. I am all about words as I’ve said before, but somethings you just can’t write out in nice gramatically correct sentences. Sometimes colors work for me.
So what color would your passion be? Pink? Red? Purple? I rather like the idea of purple passion. Purple is rare, purple is the color of royalty, purple is the color of bruising.

Not Ready For This

I hate sleaves.
This is rather unfortunate since I also get cold very easily. I am probably in the wrong state, but oh well. I am here now and I don’t plan on moving.
If I must have sleeves, I like them baggy and slightly too long. I couldn’t actually say why this is, but it is. I’m not a fan of tight clothes either, and I even have somewhat of a problem with just well-fitted clothes. You can imagine how She who must be obeyed feels about that.
Also when I am cold I like to pull myself in close. You would think long sleeves would help with this, but even when I am sitting somewhere cold and I’ve got a jacket or a sweater on, I will pull my arms out of their sleeves and fold them in close to my body. I think I just like to be curled up inside of things and somehow having sleeves or long pants separates me from myself.
Is that strange?

Feeling Nibbly

No rain today, but it still feels rainy.
It was cold too. I think the sun did come out, but I’ve had my little blue blanket with me nearly all day. It was nice for curling up with all my books, but I’m still not ready to let go of summer.
I have been looking up cheeses–among other things. I’ve always really wanted to attend a cheese tasting, but I have no idea how to go about finding such things. I. Love. Cheese! I think it makes for fun names too. I mean how cute is Cheddar for a little mouse? Yes, cliche, but still cute.
Anyway, I think I would like to become a connoisseur of cheeses.
Something else I was looking up … jerky. I knew there were different kinds of jerky and I’ve been wanting to try moose jerky, but crocodile and buffalo jerky? And I’m pretty sure they don’t mean buffalo like buffalo wings. A lot of the jerkies seem pretty versatile too; as in they can be all manner of spicified. I need to just go to a camping store or something and stalk up on jerky. Not quite sure how to fix the cheese thing, but all in good time.
And that ladies and gentlemen has been my day; along with being lost in the world of many fictions.

Peter Piper Picked A Peck Of What Now?

Yummy grilled pepperoni pizza sandwich … check,
Cornflakes melted in to balls with butter and marshmallows and covered in peanut butter … check,
scraping marshmallowy goodness off the pan … check.

If you’ve been paying attention, this probably sounds like a disaster in the making. If you’re new around these parts, go
and or
to see what I’m talking about.

However, I am happy to report that I successfully grated cheese, cooked my sandwich,stirred hot butter and marshmallows and poored the whole steaming buttery marshmallowy Cornflake mess in to a cookie sheet all with out injury. Aren’t you so proud?
But as to the true matter of this post, all this cooking has me thinking … Pickles.
If I were to ask right now for a pickle, you would most likely hand me a pickled cucumber. The brand doesn’t so much matter, I’m only concerned with the cucumber aspect of it.
So what’s with that? When you can pickle eggs, beets, ham, peppers and peaches among others, why should the cucumber be so special. What if I wanted to call a pickled egg a pickle? If I asked for a pickle then I’d still get a cucumber.
It’s just something I’ve been wondering for awhile and haven’t found a good enough answer for. Hmm, come to think of it. no one has bothered to give an answer period. Alright, How about you? Any of you wonderful readers out there have an answer for me? I’ll take creative answers too, and give points for the most creative.
Come now, surely you’ve wondered this too? No? Are you saying I just have too much time on my hands then?
P.S. Georgy just walked in and asked if I made happiness. Hee hee hee.