Bah.
Bah bah bah.

Of the things I could talk about with this post, I will choose to talk about the wonderfulness that is Bolognese Sauce.
It's sorta like a sloppy joe with vegetables and wine mixed it.

It's also HEAVEN.

I...
...cannot stop eating it.
You're supposed to enjoy it with spaghetti, but I could honestly care less.
In fact, I think they only add spaghetti to the mix to keep you from gorging solely on the Bolognese Sauce.
Which, I imagine, holds no health value at all.

So.  Cute.
And because she's a Shar Pei, she's got all this extra flab that makes her slide when she's sleeping on your lap and you shift.
So. Cute.

Ohhh...
... so super badly.
I'm going shopping Fridayish-Saturdayum.
But even then, my options are limited.

Bah.

Why?!
Why do cats do that?

My heart is broken.
I liked my giant bin trash receptacle.

But what really bums me out is that I know that this is just the first step to getting rid of our alleyways.

I live in Arizona.
More pointedly, I live in Central Phoenix.
Our parks are dry and empty.
We don't have forests.
Alleyways are the only place I know of here in the city, where things can be overgrown and intimate.
It's a very accessible natural wilderness, where I can feel alone in the middle of a city.
I like that.
And I will weep when they're gone.

Some days, all you can do is empty that inbox.

I have to laugh about how sketchy that last panel makes me look.
It was actually a Dr. Sketchy's Anti-Art School life drawing session.
And corsets with stockings just happened to be the chosen costume.
(It's usually up to the model).

Much fun was had.

A highly entertaining interview.

Yesterday, was a day of plumbing.
Today is a day of life drawing and booze.
Because that's how I order my life.

Oh, the things I've seen.

Selling chocolate is legitimately my other job.
Is it any surprise?

Someone told me once that "Scraps" was just like "Cathy."
I don't know how to feel about that in particular, but I can honestly say I have never felt that that was more true then today, posting this.
...
I may have to rebel against myself.

I got nothing.

Forgive me.