Had a request for proof of paint being applied to boyfriend's toesies...
He's kind of the biggest sport that's ever lived. True story. You can also see how uber-talented I am with the polish...don't judge me.
Just because I'm frustrated: There has GOT to be an easier way to put pictures into these posts!! Am I just really incompetent and don't understand how to use this website or does everyone hafta drag their pictures through the pristine paragraphs that have already been written, screwing up the proportional indents and sentence spacing? Cuz it's extremely obnoxious over here in Doofus-land.
Anyway. This is another cake post!! Yay! I know you're excited. Except I have no idea if you're excited or not. I don't even know exactly who you are. Hi, you. Hope you are enjoying yourself here.
So I did indeed go back in time and attempt to recreate the Butterscotch cake I mentioned in my Radiation post. Erm, well I don't mean literally 'back in time', that's just silly.
So there she is. The beautiful creation fresh outta the oven. She looks great (but she's NOT). Turns out I forgot my secret-not-so-secret ingredient and the cake ended up a lot drier than my cakes tend to be. Twas very saddening. 'Specially considering the frosting turned out magnificent:
But wait! There's more! The hardest part about this cake (which is sad since I screwed up the easy part of simply baking the darn cake) is making the butterscotch topping. Involves boiling sugar for exact amounts of time and if you forget to time it you are in deep doggie doo-doo. OR you'll just end up with really runny sauce but it won't matter cuz it's just more sugar and everyone loves sugar...as seen below.
That would be the essence of nutrition at our most recent girls' night extravaganza. Cake, DP, chips and salsa...also other assorted goodies not pictured but I assure you. They were not at all healthy in any remote manner.
On a different note, I learned something about Ewan McGregor that night (other than the fact that he reduces me to the stereotypical, giddy, twitterpated 13 year old hormone-struck idiot girl that lives inside my brain)...boy can he sing but honestly? It kind of takes movie magic to complete the effect, and Moulin Rouge had plenty of movie magic going on. I was literally melting on the couch every time he burst into song but then I went home, youtubed the soundtrack and was sorely disappointed by how the songs lacked that intense epicosity so abundant during the movie. Twas my first time seeing that particular classic and while not my favorite it did have some, um...interesting moments.
And a terrible ending! My goodness, nearing the end I finally realized that it was looking more and more like a tragedy rather than a comedy and the sudden onset of death and despair didn't set well with my dear 13-year-old self.
We watched Anastasia immediately thereafter. I've kind of been in love with Dimitri since my childhood so, whatevs.
Btdubs...this post has NO point whatsoever.
Ooh! Ooh! No wait, it does! I got a job. That's point-worthy. Go shopping in the Wal-Mart at the Riverview in mesa and I'll say hi to you (but only cuz it's my job. I actually hate you and would never say hi otherwise).
I'm kidding....or am I?
Live long and prosper.