dead men tell no tales...

...and drink no wine, and are therefore no good at parties

Friday, July 15, 2005


so i burned the shit out of my thumb.

Last night I must have been celebrating something. Can't, for the life of me, think of what that might be, but I was celebrating something, all right.

Got home last night late. Heather dropped me off around 12:15 or 12:20, something like that. I was craving these little veggie spring rolls we bought from Costco, so I preheated the oven, and turned on HBO to watch Bad Boys II. The oven dinged, I stick the baking sheet with 10 nummy spring rolls on it (they're only like two inches long each) and set the timer for 5 mins. Timer goes off, I grab the dish towel to take the baking sheet out, no prob, flip the little buggers over and go to stick them back in the oven. Apparently, this time, I had just one layer of dish towel between the 400 degree baking sheet and my thumb, because I now have a blister on my thumb the size of a popcorn kernel. I know, not that huge, but still, big.

The rest of the baking went fine and the spring rolls were munched with delicious fervor.

Tonight, Heather and I are going out to dinner for her birthday, with both our sets of parents. It will be the first time they've spent more than 45 minutes around each other. I know it will go fine. I think I'll get a haircut after work.

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