It's not fair. My car looks like a moist dirt monster vomited all over it. And its inspection is up, so after I get it inspected, they'll give it a nice happy bath for free. However, in this desert pit known as Dallas, this would be the one weekend in months (and for the following three months to come) that it may thunderstorm. Like, 40%. I get that carwash I goddamn guarantee you it's gonna rain. Poor Vobeast will never get the chance to stay clean. If he has to live in Dallas, you'd think I'd at least try to keep him clean. I do not, but he has yet to avenge his anger upon me thus far. My days are numbered.
On a completely different note, I should come out and admit that I'm boring. I just seldom go out. Quite happy to sit at home and lick my dick. Read, write, watch movies, and no, drinking alone after 10pm does not mean I have a problem. Tonight, for example, I think I am going to decline joining Rob and Derek for a night of Nacho Libre. I'm pretty sure it's going to be my next Raising Arizona, which is where the entire world loves a movie--including those whose opinions I highly respect--but me. I just. Don't. Get. It. That movie is not funny to me. I can appreciate why it might be funny to some, but yeah, no laughs. Not a giggle, not a sound. Just not my thing. Yet people swear by it. I meet more people who have seen Streets of Fire (3 so far) than don't like Raising Arizona. Maybe because I live in Texas? I don't know, I've wrestled with this one for years; I try to let it go.
My point. Oh yes, I have dessert recipes I want to try. Rather than go out to a crowded theatre (that's another thing--I think tech screening stuff at my theatre job and having the sweet TV at home has spoiled me. Why go out when the quality is so incredible at home? And there are no invisible green clouds of odor wafting through the air?) I will stay home with my two kitties and make something butterscotch. Oh yes.