How Many Tacos Will This Buy Me In Heaven?

I received this in the mail today from someone who reads my blog:

Um, thanks?

I will say, however, that it sure beats the email I received a month ago from someone who attached a copy of her TV cable bill and asked if I wouldn't mind paying it "as a way of saying thank you for being a blog reader". Yes, that's right, I should be paying you to read this blog (that is, when you're not watching TV, of course!). What's more, the "fan" suggested that I surely must have "come into wealth" from all the traffic on this website, much of which she feels she contributed to by "posting the 50s experiment on Facebook".

Guys, the only profit that I've directly reaped from his blog is pictured above:  a Seven Dollar Jesus Bill - and I'm pretty sure I can't even redeem that until I've a) accepted Him as my Lord and Saviour; and b) died.

You know, if this is what I receive, it really makes you wonder about the kind of mail Oprah gets. Just take a minute and picture it.


Wow.

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Pinplement

Pinplemented!
(not "Purplemented" as it kind of appears.)

I'm making up a new word:

Pinplement
pin-ple-ment v. pin-pluh-ment
verb
To create, buy, do, or otherwise actualize the things you pin on Pinterest.

I really love Pinterest, but I've quickly realized that I've been pinning and pinning stuff rather than actually doing or making these things that I'm so charmed by.

And so it should come as no surprise to those who regularly read this blog that the first thing I decided to pinplement was a recipe: lemon poppyseed pancakes.

This was the pin, originally from the website, Picky Cook:

And this was the pinplementation:

Not as pretty, but yay!

It was the world's smallest batch of pancakes as Patrick wasn't interested in having any (I just don't get him sometimes), and I really didn't need a load of them, so that's all I made; three little pancakes (that's a bread plate they're on, not a dinner plate).

Making such a small amount sort of felt like that scene in Bridesmaids where Kristen Wiig creates that single, elaborate cupcake; the only difference is that I didn't eat what I made as glumly as she did.

Fact: Never in my life have I ever eaten something glumly - not even the food at a funeral.

Wow. Congratulations, Jen. After all, who could ever wallow in sadness when finger sandwiches* and date squares* are around.

* The Official Refreshments of Funerals since 1894.

Yes. Exactly. Exactly.

Where was I? Oh, right: Lemon poppyseed pancakes. Did these differ much from regular pancakes? Not really. Just a tad crunchier, as if I was eating pancakes with flavourless roe baked into them. But that's not really the point. The point is this: Hurrah for doing something and not just pathetically staring at things that other people on the Internet have done.

... Ooh. I hope that last sentence didn't make you feel awkward, People of the Internet. You're not the pathetic ones - I was totally talking about myself and those other weirdos out there. Every second you spend on this blog actually makes you cooler. It's a fact.

Oh, God. Please don't ever leave me, People of the Internet. I need you.

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Good Morning, Good Morning To Yoooooou

I'm still kinda feeling flu-y, so I've been conking out early each evening. Last night Patrick assured me, "don't worry about it. You need your sleep. I'll do the dishes tonight."

And this is what I awoke to:

Patrick's idea of doing dishes usually involves stacking dirty dishes next to the dishwasher, filling up the pots and bowls with hot water, dumping some utensils into said pots or bowls, and then promptly walking away. The dishes are done, man.

God, he's lucky he's cute.

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The Only Thing Missing is a Never-ending Discovery of Miniature, Flattened Cat Bodies

From the Hoarders-inspired art series, Barbie Trashes Her Dreamhouse, by Carrie M. Becker.

My life will be complete if she creates a miniature version of a stockpiling room from Extreme Couponing.

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