Musty Butter

 Why this butter smell like feet?  Has it always been this way?  Should I throw this shit out?  Let me Google it.  OK.. that was a little ride.  If my butter is home-churned apparently this is totally normal and no cause for concern.  Just happy little bacteria doing their thing.  Well let's not delude ourselves into thinking I'm over here in my kitchen doing anything non-sexual with a butter churn.  Fine.. next search result.  Yep, that's what I thought.  Definitely don't eat this butter or you will die.  Well hold on, I just bought this butter.  Maybe I left it on the counter a little too long?  I don't think so.  What's the next result say?  Oh butter has a whole host of conditions and flavors.  So, which one is the feet one?  Let's see, right here toward the bottom.  Rancidity.  Well we all know that's a no go.  What is rancid anyhow?  I mean why not sour or spoiled or toxic?  Ok, I see, mmhmm.  Something something, butyric acid.  Wait I've heard of that.   That's that shit Hershey's puts in the chocolate that makes Europeans gag when someone mentions American chocolate.  Matter of fact, it's basically essence of vomit.  Well no one wants to eat that.  I mean I still fucks with the Hershey's though.  But the question is, will it kill me?  Let's keep reading.  Ok, you telling me I've already got a whole gut full of butyric acid??  Well I ain't dead yet.  So rancid = taste bad.  Yeah vomit has never tasted good.  Let me do some more butyric acid research.  Well there's definitely one article that mentions health benefits, specifically for those of us with the ulcerative colitis.  Aight, I'm cooking this shit.  Boil some pot stickers.  Finish them off in some feet butter.  Throw in some soy and sriracha.  Girl, I ate that shit!

If I don't post tomorrow, you all will know I've died.  Just know it was delicious! 💀💀💀

It's less plastic surgery and more vinyl siding

 Today marks the day I took a whole day off from work to sit in my house half the morning, too tired for anything productive, too ashamed to sit on my ass all day!  It's really not the shame though.  It's the fear that if I get just a little too comfortable with relaxation, I'll spiral off a cliff into homelessness and mental illness.  

So I made it until just before lunch before checking my messages from the office.  Immediately replied to something idiotic.  When it hit me how quickly my frustration rose, I just shut my laptop and noped on outside.  

There on my back porch I remembered, oh yeah you definitely haven't finished with the siding back here.  It's chilly and my head hurts but there's no way in hell you're switching home insurance with a partially sided back porch.  This current insurance rate is pillaging my mayflower, and not in a good way.  

Well, it's easy enough and there's really only a tiny bit left.  Let's finish this shit.  At least I won't be tempted to look at emails for a little while.