All My Friends are Pretend. Unrelated: Poutine

My absolute new favorite quote came from my absolute new favorite blog ever, Rocket Shoes. It's this goddang genius of a guy who writes so fucking brilliantly it makes me feel more like a badger poking at the keys with a spoon. I have had tears streaming down my face for large portions of my day, I shit you not. Homework is sitting over in the corner, pouting over my utter lack of involvement with it today. Glasses are upon my face because my eyeballs hurt from reading a year's worth of blog posts in five hours. It's like meth I can't stop! (Not that I can't stop doing meth currently or anything, that came out wrong.)

Ok best quote ever is:
"So because hanging out with people is overrated and it’s a much better strategic move to just hang out with and develop relationships with fake characters in complex fake plotlines, I watch a good deal of television."

This is ME! This is MY LIFE! How does he know thisssssssss???? I have a huge love/hate relationship with this whole notion, because on the one hand, I am so full of delight and warmth that I have such awesome people to hang out with like Cam and Phil and the witty banter we have, and Jules and the copious amounts of wine we drink daily, and House cause he's super snarky too and I like that he sexually harasses me even though deep down he knows I'm crazy smart. And of course Sookie cries to me a lot about her love life, and Tara is just a mess, but my sweet sweet baby -- that craaaaaazy Lafayette -- he just does not let me get down about life, Girrrrrrl, Dayum!! But then it's all the more depressing when I do (for the briefest moments until I go lalalalalalala more wine more wine) realize that these are not my friends, they never will be, and I will probably never have such interesting and witty friends. (No offense, current non-fictional friends.)

Heyyyyy BFF!! Clonopin and vodka party later? My house? Totally. Meow.

In other news: I excised (yes, I am also good friends with Dexter in case I didn't mention that earlier) a large chunk of my thumb this weekend while grating cheese... most importantly because I could not find proper cheese curds for which to make poutine with. On my recent sojourn to Canadia, Boyfriend introduced to a truly amazing food that tastes eleventy million times better than it sounds (and looks). If you are not familiar with this culinary magic, it is french fries covered in white cheese and then covered in brown gravy. IT WILL BLOW YOUR MIND. Or at least, it did to me. I was like a crack-addled rat the whole visit... hey guys, let's uh, go for a bike ride and mebbe grab some poutine! Oh I'll go with you to buy corn from the quaint roadside stand.... and mebbe grab some poutine on the way back!!! So this weekend, I thought, how hard can it be to whip up, so I did. I am now a self-taught kick-ass poutine maker. This is not the best thing for me to have discovered because I ate it for breakfast Saturday, dinner Sunday (where I tipsily destroyed my thumb flesh) and again last night for a snack. Also Boyfriend got home from his trip yesterday, so I wanted to surprise him. And the reaction I got? SUSPICION! "Waaaaaait a minute...why are you doing this? What's going on? What did you do? Did you cheat on me?!" Nonetheless, apparently California girl who doesn't normally cook a whole lot suddenly making your regional childhood old country dish... TROJAN HORSE. Thaaaaat's normal.

THIS IS THE FOOD OF THE GODS, I DO NOT CARE HOW ODD IT LOOKS.

THIS PHOTO CAME UP IN MY SEARCH. SEE??? IT'S SERIOUS SHIT.

This photo also came up in my search. Oh Google Images, you so smart.