Fixed up angel hair pasta with a mushroom sauce last night after the DBacks, who were leading 3-1 in the late innings until I got to the George after Griffey blasted them to 4-3 - what happened? Was briefed. Pinching. Oh.
No tomatoes but extra virgin, garlic and oregano. (Have a jar of pimentos I've been holding off opening.) Finish with Romano. Good read. A better sleep. Up with the local rooster.
The coffee's good and I'll be motivating real soon. Don't see many boardwalks. Mind the splinters. No one presently tuning into 108th Street at Rockaway, the boys running in front of Fitzgerald's, Joyce holding court and all that. We stayed out of Playland and got lobster-like. Who knew from SPF? And seaweed for sushi! Could have been lunch instead of packing it.
Now, with complete candor, you don't want to see me in Speedo. XXL trunks, anyone... until I drop a stone or two. Or three.
No comments:
Post a Comment