The Benefits of Having a Bad Day at the Bakery

Do you work at a bakery?

Have you ever had a bad day?

I work at a bakery, and I had a bad day. And it just so happened that it happened to be a bad day for a majority of my coworkers as well.

I found a temporary solution.

I call it 'Dunette Pâtisserie'. It's really a chocolate croissant that I mutilated until it resembled what I think looks like an abstract poopie diaper. I totally forgot I was having a bad day for, like, twenty minutes.

Try it, and tell me it's not a great way to temporarily bring happiness to your bad day at the bakery. If you tell me it's not, you're lying.

Love In Your WHAT?

Laurel's last night as my roommate had to be a good one. Obviously that means beer, wine, rum, singing, dancing, and our very own special rendition of Usher's "Love in this Club".

Laurel, we love you very much (obviously). Wherever I am, you will always have a place with me. Nobody does it better than when Lorz and Fancy B start getting hyphy.

What Happens When You Eat At Zippy's

Eating at Zippy's. Not something to make a habit of, unless you enjoy never-ending food comas on a regular basis.

Laurel and I, we love this place.

Observe the conversation that followed our over indulgent meal:

B: If I wasn't pregnant before, I am now!

L: ...With Quadruplets!!

B: More like Quadpooplets!

Of course, this opened the gateway for an extremely inappropriate and highly humorous conversation.

Who knew? A burger joint that induces food comas and hilarity.

If you love ginormous burgers and poop jokes, this place is definitely for you:

http://zippysgiantburgers.com/menu.html

They have burgers with hot dogs on them. Or, as Laurel and I call them, "Dergs on Bergs". If you're not convinced you need to find this place and eat there by now, I'm not sure we can ever be friends.

"What Have I Been Doing For the Past Two Years", You Ask?

A good question. I have no idea. It's all a blur.

But somehow, I've landed here.

Here. Sitting cross-legged in the grandpa chair, a heat dish sitting on the coffee table only three feet away, pointed at me and turned up to the highest intensity of warmth. Netflix streaming on the xbox, loading up "Sons of Anarchy". Here, on the top floor of an old house, on the south side of Seattle.

A nearly empty ice cream carton sits next to me, a pile of walnuts at the bottom of it. You see, I don't like walnuts, so I spit them all back into the carton. I am the most classy when no one is watching.

Here, alone in this house, save the company of Madmartigan, the black whining tomcat, also Harvey and Oswald, the rat sisters.

It has been a long day. Like I've been in a coma, but tortured in my head for the duration.

Fleece jam-jams help take the edge off.