Dear Trompy's Girlfriend,

I love Mariah Carey's Fantasy too. I get it, fun song to sing along to. However, I have enough sense to just stop when she gets into the whistle octave. Apparently you don't have that sense. So I am telling you shut the fuck up, you sound like a howler monkey.

The Blahs

So I have a big case of the blahs. Nothing interesting has happened to me recently. This is the busy time at work, I actually have to work, talk about blah. I haven't been sleeping because my mind keeps turning work puzzles and Trompy has started getting up 45mins earlier. I swear his slippers are made of lead. This blog was supposed to be about gluten free cooking, but honestly I don't really eat anything interesting anymore so there isn't much cooking. My gluten free diet is all turkey, carrots, apples and Rice Chex. Good for ass shrinkage but not really blog material. I will be trying a new recipe for gluten free sesame chicken and fortune cookies this coming Sunday. Bear and Brother-in-Law Bear will be traveling through the area and I need to test these recipes for the "Yay You're Wealthy Now" party we are having for Mom in March after she makes her final payment to a university for her daughters. Moogie went back to work so we could get braces and kept working so we could go to school where ever we wanted. She is a really good lady and we love her lots. She hasn't had Chinese since going GF, most soy sauce contains wheat, so she will really love the chicken. Bear and BILB can help me taste test so I don't have to fall too far off the turkey, carrots, apples and Rice Chex wagon.

Just Another Tuesday Night

So around these parts Tuesday is Rock Band night, Oh Joy. I believe I have mentioned it before. I had a bit of a respite thanks to the holidays but they are definitely going to rock out tonight. I can hear them tromping around already. This better not affect my Nip/Tuck watching tonight. You know, I can grit my teeth through your shitty ass version of Eye of the Tiger, but if you fucking ruin my McNamara Troy time.... Trompy, I will cut you.

Dear Asshole Who Lives Above Me Part 2

So where we left off last night, I was braless and fuming. Shortly after making the post I finally cracked. I put on a bra, stormed up the stairs, gave 3 good raps police style and......nothing. He wouldn't answer the mother fucking door! So now what? An hour later I tried again, still no answer. Dude, I know you are in there. I can hear you walking around, I refer to you as Trompy for a reason. So I didn't get much sleep due to being so amped up. I don't do confrontation well and apparently I don't do non confrontation-confrontation well either. Called the apartment people in the morning and they seemed concerned enough, but said in the future I should call the police. Ummm, I am fairly certain the Peoria Police have more pressing issues than the Tuesday night Rock Band party at Casa de Trompy. How about you just tell him no more Rock Band or to turn it down when the neighbors start banging on the door.

Dear Asshole Who Lives Above Me

Turn it down. You are making the glasses in my cupboard vibrate. Not cool. I am this close to putting on a bra and coming up there and telling you what is up. I really don't want to put on a bra.