Saturday, February 14, 2004
Trust me on this, kiddies -- just because a recipe appears in print on a Velveeta box doesn't mean it's a good idea. Velveeta, salsa, and the microwave, and then we stuck tater tots on chopsticks and pretended it was fondue. In all fairness, though, the tater tots were my idea. Truly, it was vile.
Also, last night, we watched Party Monster, which was very good, if only for the experience of watching the perpetually dreadful Macaulay Culkin play a drugged-out drag queen. After Richie Rich, I never thought we'd see him again, ever.
I tried to work on Murder of Angels yesterday, and again today, but to no particular avail. I growled at the manuscript and it growled back at me. It's the most hostile book I've ever had to write. The pregnancy was bad enough, and now I have this surly toddler to cope with. Tomorrow, well, tomorrow I'm going to sit it down and we're going to have a talk.
Check out the Species of One shop. Not only do we have Low Red Moon T-shirts, we now have "The Ugliest Cat in the World" as a coffee cup and a thong. I dren you not.
Lastly, kudos to the city of San Francisco for the bold sneak-attack from the west while most of the anti-gay hate-mongers are busy bending arms in Massachusetts.
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