Random thoughts again

*So the Duggar family (who are expecting baby #17 ) use only J names for their kids. Meaning they have had to come up with a J name 17 freaking times. They have a Joy-Anna and a Johannah. They have a Jeremiah, a Jedidiah, and a Josiah. Now, I’ve never been one for annoyingly matching up my kids’ names, but if you’re going to have 17 kids, you might want to expand your use of the alphabet a bit, so you don’t end up with a bunch of kids whose names all sound the same.

*One of my secret guilty pleasures is Fashion Police on E! Channel. I only watch it when no one else is around, but I loooove it. I especially love when it’s a person I don’t like anyway, PLUS they’re getting dissed for their bad outfit.

*On Animal Rescue, there are 2 woman who judge the behavior of the rescued dogs to see if they’re appropriate for adopting out. If you didn’t know what was up and were just presented with this scene, you’d probably think they were loonies, with their weird sombrero getups and their freaky toddler-size dolls. I’d probably bark at them, too, and I’m human.

* I think I’m going to have some mint chocolate chip ice cream. Or, if you’re from Minnesota, “peppermint bon bon.” (Dorks. )

*Speaking of Minnesota and their odd food terms, how about “hot dish” instead of casserole? Or in Pittsburgh, PA, where they call rubber bands a “gumband” and eat that weird stuff called chipchop ham?? Again I say, dorks.

*But considering that, when I was a teenager, I used to take my great-uncle to the store to buy the ingredients for head cheese, maybe I should shut up. You know all those freaky, weird things the butcher sells that you walk past and say, “Hey, look! A sheep’s head! Check out that gross tongue! Ew– what kind of animal did those parts come from??”— well, my friend, all those things would work beautifully in a big pan of head cheese. Head cheese is basically every gross animal part at the store that day, plus a bunch of Knox gelatin, boiled on the stove until your great-niece is dry-heaving from the smell. And my great-uncle used to really hope for pig’s or cow’s brains to add to the mix, which I would then have to ask the butcher for. The butcher rarely had any, though, meaning that every week I would walk up to the butcher and say, “Excuse me, sir, do you have any brains?” And he would say, “I’m sorry, I don’t.”


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