Pumpkin Pie

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Today while I was walking down the street, I passed a dude who jabbed his finger at me while yelling “fuck YOU,” and adding a hearty “FUCK YOU, TOO” to the rest of the people on the street.

I’m still not sure what caused his outburst – was he ill?  Was he on my period?

“Have a good one!” I shouted over my shoulder.

At first I wasn’t sure what had upset him so. But later, I came to a conclusion:  I think he had eaten a dark, dry and tasteless pumpkin pie. He was probably forced to buy one from the grocery store, over-spiced and overpriced. What “fuck you” really meant was, “fuck you for not sharing with all of us the pie recipe you have enjoyed for years. Fuck you for making us live this way.” 

Street Meanie, this one’s for you.

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Throwback Thursday…On Friday

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Thanks mom and dad, for capturing these precious moments in my life. Who knows what was happening here (maybe it was the velvet shirt EW) but it was probably my sister’s fault…which is maybe why she laughs the hardest at this picture.

And I know what you’re thinking, that photo looks familiar, right? Well allow me to refresh your memory…

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Chicken Tortilla Soup (with Cornbread recipe)

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Hello my babies.

It’s raining here in Victoria and when I think of rain, I inevitably think of soup. (Obviously, what a cliche train of thought…This girl is so boring.) When I was growing up, my mom would make soup or stew on rainy days, and I would cry. It seems kind of dramatic, but soup just isn’t my style. The only thing that made me cry faster than soup was being dragged along to Fabricland with my mom. A stranger’s van is more kid-friendly than Fabricland. (Sorry, mom. Love you.) Anyway, let’s get back to this bangin’ SOUP.

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“Tiny sangies are THE SHIT”

brittanymurphy

  Almost three years ago I hosted my own tea party. I made brownies, cake and scones, tiny cucumber sandwiches, and brewed different varieties of tea. It was SO. Sweet.*

*Except for the part where my older sister arrived hungover even though she knew when the tea party was because it happened to be at her very own house, Steph I’m talking to you. NEVER FORGET.

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