And other tales of horror.

Happy Pepper Pot Day!

As much as I’d love to celebrate tripe soup day, I decided to celebrate Pepper Potts, all around badass and Tony Stark’s baby mama, instead.

You’re welcome.

I mean I’ve got a shitload of leftovers from Grismas week in my fridge that the kids aren’t eating.

Like I need a pot of soup with honeycomb tripe in it to be spoiling as well.

Just imagine the smell of that.

No thanks.

My deviled egg/cauliflower/spinach&artichoke dip farts are already enough to turn your stomach into a soup.

Yesterday was stupid and I don’t want to relive it here.

It was just a lot of little irritating things all day long.

And I’m over it.

Today is going to be a beautiful day.

And I’ve got a few clients on the books.

So I’ll be in the yard before and after that.

Probably.

Or maybe I’ll just nap and read comics and drink coffee.

I’m gonna play it by ear I think.

See ya’ tomorrow.

More soon. ~SC