The Shattered Prayer

My mom…. and yeah, if this post was about something dirty, it would not start with the words my mom. So anyways, my mom makes the best pound-cake in the world. Best.

Hot damn. I’m feeling pretty good. I wrote two whole chapters on my book today. I really cranked out the words. I feel like I should reward myself.

Its true, every once in a while I get a craving for Yorkshire pudding, and I can tell you, you won’t find any of that around here. I think the next time we have a roast around here, I’m going to sneak one into the oven.

This is a simplified version of the traditional recipe:

Well, I’m a little bit disappointed that no one has volunteered to build a gingerbread Tokyo for Mojo and me to stomp on (and by ’stomp on’ I mean ‘eat’). Oh wait… we decided on Kyoto didn’t we. Ole Mojo - just gotta be different.

Well you know, if there’s anything us southerners love, its our pecan pies. This one sounds particularly decadent.

I love aubergine (thats eggplants to us American types, but frankly I don’t care what its called. Its tasty.) And I felt it was time for another :blender: recipe, so here goes:

Request for political opinions = most unpopular post ever.

New emoticons = This post rocks!

I guess I’ve learned my lesson about asking people for opinions on the presidential campaign. So, what inane topic can I post today?

Okay, so I ran across this article yesterday and I thought I’d share it, because I laughed till I cried…..

…and cried….

…and cried….

….then I locked myself in a closet and practiced self-mutilation, because you know, its one of those things you really have to practice to get right.