What do I have to say today? Nothing of substance. I really want to run. Really, really.
What I have to settle for is walking around the neighborhood in the blistering heat. If I’m going to be sweating like a pig, I should at least be burning calories like one. No wait, scratch that. Pigs probably don’t burn that many calories. I should at least be burning calories like a hummingbird.
As it is, I feel like I’m just sitting here getting fatter and fatter.
Let’s take last night’s dinner for example.
We had grilled kabobs, hot dogs and collard greens.
Yeah, not only did I not eat raw, I even cooked the salad. Cooked. The salad.
I will never understand Southern cooking. I’m not saying it wasn’t good — because it was; I would just like to know how that went down the first time.
I imagine somebody was eating a salad one day and then all of a sudden they were like, “hey, this salad is pretty good but I bet if we cooked it in meat and butter, it’d be even better!”
Wine? That I understand.