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Corner Gas was on! *cheers*
Apr. 21st, 2004 10:20 pmI haven't written in days! Must do something about that.
As I was unlocking my front door this evening, the memory of Pink Stuff suddenly flooded my mouth, though it took me a second or two to place it. That taste will haunt me to my grave, I'm sure. I can only hope that medical science has advanced sufficiently to create a cherry-flavoured antibiotic that actually has a semblance of cherry flavour, instead of that cloyingly sweet plastic bitterness I remember all too well. And to think that the last time I tasted that stuff I couldn't have been older than five!
To my spaghetti with (lots of) pesto, I added two Chinese sausages cut into small pieces. I didn't remember those things being so sweet! Or tasty. They actually masked the metric ton of pesto I'd used and have since settled down in my stomach, forming a heavy little blob that I hope will resolve itself during the night.
Last night I had a very bizarre dream about the ballet costumes, which is probably a sign I should get cracking and start working on the damn things. Of course, there's always the weekend.
As I was unlocking my front door this evening, the memory of Pink Stuff suddenly flooded my mouth, though it took me a second or two to place it. That taste will haunt me to my grave, I'm sure. I can only hope that medical science has advanced sufficiently to create a cherry-flavoured antibiotic that actually has a semblance of cherry flavour, instead of that cloyingly sweet plastic bitterness I remember all too well. And to think that the last time I tasted that stuff I couldn't have been older than five!
To my spaghetti with (lots of) pesto, I added two Chinese sausages cut into small pieces. I didn't remember those things being so sweet! Or tasty. They actually masked the metric ton of pesto I'd used and have since settled down in my stomach, forming a heavy little blob that I hope will resolve itself during the night.
Last night I had a very bizarre dream about the ballet costumes, which is probably a sign I should get cracking and start working on the damn things. Of course, there's always the weekend.
