empty house

When you leave things alone for an undisclosed amount of time, things tend to run wild. Rampant. The comments alone that I’m filtering through on a post about bread pudding are astounding. Seriously? I mean, I know my way with words just make you swoon, sweep you off your feet… but bread pudding? The most interesting thing you’ve read in a while? So thoughtful and crafted that it made you rethink you position on life?


You need a new life, methinks.

In other news, we still have a house, despite everything. But a house with no furniture. Well, let me amend that. Very little furniture. Our television sits on the floor as well as our mattress and most of our clothes. And if one more person tells me that it will get better soon in response to my dead pan empty house remark, I will punch them. Flat out, broken nose, blood spattered across state lines.

So sorry, but it couldn’t be helped.

A stupid response justifies such a reaction. At least in the world of Asterisk.

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