Weekends are too short. The End.

I am taking a break from working on my Super Awesome Secret Project to inform you that the f*ing smell of poo has been following me around all day today.  It was there in the grocery store as I perused the orange juice selections (Such a craving for orange juice lately! What is up with that?). And it was there as I walked up the stairs to my apartment carrying 2 bags of produce, a carton of orange juice, a jug of iced tea, a bottle of V8 (So healthy!), and a gigantic apple pie ("No Sugar Added" it says. Again, healthy(ish)!), and a gigantic bag of Cheetos (Hm. We can't all be perfect, right?). Anyway, I have taken the necessary steps to ensure that I, indeed, have not inextricably shat my pants today.  The universe must just be toying with me after yesterday's post. Whatevs. Speaking of, Schmooblebuns was peeking over my shoulder as I scrolled through my blog yesterday and he asked, "Hey, what's that?" And I - always looking out for his best interest - said, "I wouldn't read that if I were you. I'm serious. You can read the first paragraph. Just skip the last line." My words of warning, alas, were not heeded and he is now sufficiently traumatized. Which I really don't understand anyway, because who wouldn't love a girlfriend who produces things that smell like delicious baked goods (Oh God, I won't even go there) out of her corn hole?  You know what I mean? Plus, as I pointed out to him, banana bread is one trillion times better than the odor he produces whilst on the can (Which, we decided together can be likened to Death + Eggs).