Just got back from a week in Ashland at the Oregon Shakespeare festival, paid for by the gracious English department at the U of O. We watched the Importance of Being Earnest, Merry Wives of Windsor, Two Gentlemen of Verona, and The Winter's Tale.
All the plays were enjoyable, and so was living in a dorm. I'm old for college, so I'd never set foot...
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All the plays were enjoyable, and so was living in a dorm. I'm old for college, so I'd never set foot...
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I have a horrible, horrible desire to fry things when I'm drunk. Slug down a sixpack and out comes the frying pan. Why? Why is this so? What is it about sizzling butter that makes the drunken munchies so satisfying?
So, I made a loaf of sourdough bread, and got drunk, and fried a bunch of grilled cheese sandwiches. But this didn't seem to be...
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So, I made a loaf of sourdough bread, and got drunk, and fried a bunch of grilled cheese sandwiches. But this didn't seem to be...
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Well. Huh. Wow. Neat-o-