Ooof. Tonight, I ate a giant cheeseburger with an egg on it and drank a couple beers and ate some onion rings and then we went to the cheap bookstore.
First of all, I cannot believe I ate that entire cheeseburger BUT I DID. I snarfed it the hell down. I guess that it’s okay since I just had a wee lunch and I hardly ever eat cheeseburgers. It’s just not something we do at home, you know? And then I had a Lucky Bucket Certified Evil (and a regular lager) to wash it all down and found myself slightly tipsy on this fine school night. Mr. Bffl pointed out that Certified Evil is 9.6% and I have cut back so I shouldn’t be shocked but, still. Gosh. I picked up some silly books at the cheap bookstore and I’m going to go read shortly-ish.
Now we’re kicking it on the couch and Mr. J is going through his dad’s chili cookbook (no lie) to see what recipe we want to use this weekend and I’m contemplating bed. Mmm, bed. Tomorrow is Friday and Friday is filled with glorious promise and today is Thursday, Friday’s neighbor, so it’s all good. Sure, work is work and I had this crazy little tickle in my throat this morning and…eh. Whatever. We are nearly there.
But, seriously. A BURGER WITH AN EGG ON. I know this is so not-clever that even Red Robin has caught on to it but, seriously, it was delicious. The finest cheezburger I’ve had in a while. Om nom nom.
e-m-j. 