No followers, what's up glorified journal diary thing?

Stephen (mi esposa) is snoozing. As I mentioned yesterday in my pathetic attempt of snark-tastic witticism is that he and I work nights. We work in a factory here where we live in OKC and its, a job. We make great money, have wonderful benefits and even get to work with people that stimulate our brains on multiple levels. He is a supervisor and a big wig in one building and I am a pee on/nobody in a building down the street. I really have zero complaints about being a nobody at my job though. Well. I have one complaint...ok TWO. 1.) WE WORK SIX DAYS A WEEK! And if you've ever worked six days a week at a job for more than a few months, you know that shit gets wicked old. 2.) I AM ALLERGIC TO MY MACHINE!!! Don't believe me? Take a look at this. Are you amazed? Something in the chemical solvent they use in a parts washer at work makes my face a balloon. Es muy TRISTE. I don't know why I'm typing in sporadic bouts of Spanish. But yea, work. It happens.

This nastiness is mostly cleared up, which I am greatfull for. There are still small amounts of hives on random places, but alas I think I will live to see another day. And now things that are randomly interesting to me. We went to cuppies and joe with a really nice couple that Stephen and I know from work, and when I say that they are a nice couple, I mean it. They are so fantastic. The "Bang-a-rang" cuppie and the "Razzmataz" are my favorite, but I think I may have the "Mary Poppins" on my next trip to cuppies and joe.

Before our date today, I dove head first into the new cook book that came to my home via the interwebs. "Eat Me" by Kenny Shopsin, a foul mouthed and terribly cranky cook in Manhatten. I started off with an adaptation of his "Cheesy Stake." Which turned out amazing, but in the process of cooking the damn meal, I sorta set the kitchen on fire. My first kitchen fire was SWEEET! We don't have a great house, it's small and falling apart in places, but it's our and I love it. I am really happy that somehow through the shock of billowing five foot flames that streamed upward from my range that I somehow snapped out of it and turned the burner that was seconds away from scorching our entire house into oblivion into the "off" position.

Stephen and I are planning a trip to Manhattan very soon with the hopes of going into the cranky cooks restaurant to eat or hopefully be thrown out. I'm really ok with either option. If any of this strikes you as odd, check out the documentary "I Like Killing Flies" and form your own opinion of this guy and his food styling.

I'm really getting jazzed about the notion of having an outlet for my random blurbs. I hope I gain a little finesse with words and am able to share some interesting things and recipes. TA TA!!