Food coma

Nov. 26th, 2009 09:48 pm
opera142: (this shit is bananas)
Turkey (stuffed with apples, garlic and onion) turned out AWESOME. As did the homemade applesauce and mashed potatoes (the secret is to use gallons of unhealthy dairy products--cream, butter, sour cream).

When I told Moe about the Precious' Wal-Marty bounty, he said we could invite him next year.
opera142: (crayons)
The Precious has taken to posting pics of his 17 daily meals on Twitter. His Fuddruckers meal made me wrinkle my nose and shout "Precious!"*. Anyway, at work today, I was rooting through the coupon pile, and I found one for Fuddruckers. For a mere 30 bucks, you can get 6 burgers seasoned with fudd spice. FUDD SPICE. Precious!

I feel I should have a Matt and Shane Wear Size 12 tag because really, they and Shannon Moore had a drunken, carb-crammed weekend together, and the only mostly-naked, passed out pics that surface are of Shannon. Precious!






* though I cannot help but applaud the use of both chopped and sliced red onions. His gluttony has its moments of pure genius.

UGH. Hungry

Jun. 7th, 2009 03:03 pm
opera142: (Default)
The weather has taken a damp, chilly turn, and it's flipped my INSATISTABLE HUNGER OMG SO HUNGRY ALL THE TIME EATEATEAT button. Worse, it's not the snackysnackydon'tknowwhyI'mhungry. It's the nomnomnomnomeverythingstastessupergood hungry. Portion control? I don't need no stinking portion control. I had egg whites, peppers, toast, milk and juice an hour ago, and I swear I could go to Wendy's RIGHT NOW and annihilate a Baconator.

Instead, I will foodporn on the Precious' Twitter. Le sigh.
opera142: (crayons)
The ever-enlarging Precious stood around in the ring, under the guise of "pro-mo-ing". I sulked because he's bloated and angry and still going on about that 'black cloud' nonsense and wearing garish clothing.

Then. THEN. Then, I noticed among the many garish details of his garish shirt were fleur de lises. The symbol of France.

Steph has new BFFs and together they make crazy, shitty fic.
opera142: (crayons)
Ok, so I'm watching Smackdown, and I'm sulking big time because a)we bought a new television but the cable guy isn't coming until Sunday with the HD box, so not only am I watching it via network airing, but there is no TiVo so pee breaks have to wait until commercials or Boogeyman matches, and b)while there was a 3-on-1 beatdown of the Precious, it wasn't wigglepanty, just Mark Henry, Jack Swagger, and Edge hitting their finishers while the Precious showed-off hair that has never known conditioner. I swear, I am going to mail him some products along with a stern note telling him to visit a stylist. It's getting ridiculous.

Anyway, mid-sulk, Carlito and his rambunctious little brother wrestle Miz and Morrison. The match was made of giddy and flippy and counters and this pleased me. Then, THE THOUGHT punched my brain.

Jericho.
Shane McMahon.
M. Hardy
Carlito.
Alex Shelly.

I LIKE CHUBBY BELLY BOYS. Along with my chubby chicks. I'm a chubby chaser. *jazz hands of NO THIS MUST NOT BE* Why have none of you put a stop to this? Why have none of you snarked "What's with all the porning over fatties, Opera?"

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