Ice cream and... potato chips?
Not a good idea.
Anyway, once the binging was done (and I say "binging" with a great sense of irony, as we had MAYBE five bites of each flavor, and then Larissa sent the rest home with me), Larissa asked if I would be willing to help her bake some cookies. Much to her misfortune, I said yes.
See, I'm not a TERRIBLE cook... at least, I didn't used to be. Years of neglect have left my baking skills a bit limp. Factor in my general clumsiness and you get:
Not Pictured: Smoke
...one burned-out mixer.
Sorry, Larissa. I owe you a new mixer.
4 comments:
I can't tell everyone how smoking hot they are. Not everyone really burns my motor. Not everyone can get me all mixed up and so hot and bothered. The essence of smoke really is such a manly smell.
And I'll stop there. But I am STILL laughing about this whole thing...and about how, once the beaters were removed, the smoke billowed forth.
Sometimes I hate you :-P
Your shirt fits this situation just so perfectly. :)
Haha! That shirt is fantastic, and I pink puffy heart Larissa's comment!! :)
xox
Post a Comment