Sunday, July 27, 2008

Flour fight. My place. 5 minutes.

Girls and boys . . .

Dreams do come true. Due to the generosity of my lovely lovely friend Patrick (a true Southern gentleman), I now am the proud owner of an Anthropology apron (photos to come). Not only have I successfully made those cupcakes (future site of next photo) that gave me all that trouble a week or so ago , but I didn't once (NOT ONCE) run into any door jams or walls whilest in this magical apron.

I AM A DOMESTIC GODDESS (if possible, enter photo here of me standing on top of a mountain, with a chocolaty (yes that's the correct spelling . . . I looked it up) spoon in the up-stretched fist, which is proudly thrust towards the heavens. Make there is an appropriate amount of blazing eyes and blowing Farrah Facet hair . . . and can I be a bit more busty? Just maybe. I think it would emphasize my Princess Leia Dress and hot new apron. The setting behind me is large sun burst, and a cornucopia of fireworks and dragons fighting with fiery spatulas and rock stars begging to father my babies.)

Ahem . . . GODDESS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


  1. wow! you are hellarious! yes i know it is not spelled like that i just wanted to write the word hell with out actually telling you to go there... so you should be a writer! your sentences are so dreamy and they flow ever so smoothly! i have a writing crush on you! ok now i am rambling. any who... remember the tumbling hobbits? i miss their grace!

  2. Dear Domesic Goddess:

    Happy baking.