The photos below of my living room are relatively accurate. Okay, well, they don't show the charcoal grill in parts and pieces taking up the greatest share of my living room floor currently, but other than that ....

Seriously, folks. There are certain times in a girl's life when having a husband would be exceedingly helpful, and this would be one of those times. Because instead of me flinging the Phillips head screw driver down and cursing like a drunken sailor, I could watch him do that ... which has to be way more entertaining.

I finally had to leave the living room ... blog a bit ... clear my head.

Please tell me why the manufacturers of said products always short you on the important things, like, say, BOLTS, but give you a blue million of the not-so-important things, like, say, nylon washers!!??!??? If this stupid thing doesn't fall apart the first time I use it, I will be completely surprised.

And while we're talking about things that are annoying, I had a PBS documentary on, while trying to assemble my grill, about the a year in the Royal Family's lives. Can we all say ANAL RETENTIVE? I mean, they have men that their entire job is to measure, with a special stick, mind you, the space between the table and the chairs at a Royal State Dinner.


I guess it's a good thing I will never be invited to one of those shin-digs. Cuz, I'd be the one that had spinach hanging out of her teeth while discussing with the Prime Minister and Lord and Lady What's-Their-Butts the benefits of reading the book What's Your Poo Telling You (


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