My Fair Lazy - Jen Lancaster [131]
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Thundercat One was named Angus once his swelling went down enough to determine his sex.
172
Read: old money.
173
It’s from Target, but it’s totally adorable.
174
A lot of women have their actual handbags up by the pool. I find this very odd.
175
Screw up one sorority rush and it stays with you for the rest of your life.
176
And why would you carry it to the pool? This still has me scratching my head. The lockers here seem quite secure.
177
And bitter.
178
And bitter.
179
Really, they should advertise the floor show in the membership brochure.
180
Next up? Orwell, lots and lots of Orwell.
181
P.S. I kind of miss Winona Ryder. Come back!
182
Seriously, cover your mouth. Were you raised in a barn?
183
James Dean is so the original Robert Pattinson.
184
Jackass.
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And the pigeon.
186
Yes, courtesy of a late-night Ambien shopping spree.
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And replaced in 1997.
188
Martha Stewart’s book on cupcakes, I’ll be back for you!
189
See, Stacey? I totally pay attention to you.
190
I wonder if that’s its selling point?
191
Make a panini out of this cheese, adding a slice of Granny Smith apple and some Dijon mustard. You’ll totally thank me.
192
To think I did all that surreptitious cheese-wiping for nothing.
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One Ambien-induced night I tiptoed down to the kitchen and melted cheese, toasted bread, and coated the whole thing in sanding sugar. I dubbed it “swavery” because it was both sweet and savory. And it was delicious! (I think.)
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Which also makes me giggle.
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The “sweat” is actually expressed oil.
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Deeply yellowed because it’s aged five years.
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Or most of my family.
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Oh, come on. Every marriage can use a little mystery, right?
199
I vaguely recall swallowing the wax from time to time. This is probably why I can’t do long division.
200
I can’t bring myself to drink anything with a n-i-p-p-l-e on it. This is why I almost drown every time I get a bottle of Evian Sport water. I tend to aim it at my mouth and then squeeze too hard, and it hits my throat like a garden hose.
201
DO NOT BASH THE OLIVE GARDEN.
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Bite me, Wikipedia. And don’t tell him I was wrong.
203
Or maybe a Rice Krispie.
204
Damn! Should have gotten the twenty-course dinner!
205
Cooking, not stabbing.
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Thanks to delicious German wine and parents on the other side of the earth.
207
Probably mostly French fries.
208
Except for the bread. The bread was spectacular there, as it is here.
209
That’s what she said! Argh! I did it again!
210
Heh.
211
See: Flavored vodka, flights of.
212
Once on January 21, 1986, she said three mean things before lunch, and it was so out of character, we all marked the event on our calendars.
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Seriously, my team is not without compassion. And we’re not all out hunting moose or bombing abortion clinics, either.
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Coincidentally, both entailed a distinct lack of effort on my part.
215
I had talent. Algae scrubbing is a skill, yo.
216
If you want something to complain about, children, then try doing data entry for nine hours a day.
217
Possibly to understand the plight of herpes and poor choices?
218
These authors are dead. They don’t need my dollar.
219
Fletch made me take my car in for detailing at the shop across from my usual B&N as I accidentally spilled a whole container of kebabs in there. He said my car smelled like Afghanistan.
220
Feel free to insert a “Jen continues to be a philistine” footnote here; it’s justified.
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This last bit sounds better if you say it in a Scarlett O’Hara accent.
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And yes, I know she won a Pulitzer. But I’ve been in People magazine. Twice. Suck on that, Eudora Welty.
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Get it? You(dora)? Like Eudora? Get it? Yeah, well, fine. SHE wasn’t funny, either.
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Or possibly the result of having watched a Cribs rerun earlier in the day.
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This is where a certain fancy book-prize winner would take four pages to describe all the shades and would never, ever get to the Real World conversation.