So, this was the "Get rid of all the old VHS tapes" weekend. We have 2 boxes full of this crap, and this weekend, I plowed through the first one.
I reviewed a total of 53 tapes, you know, just in case there were things we should hang on to like our wedding, episodes of The Tick, and of course, my 18th Birthday Debut, aka Nenette's Wedding with Herself. Seriously, I had attendants, The Dress, and the reception hall with a head table. There were 300 frickin' guests -- most of them my parents' friends. It was unreal! -- and all the while, I was wishing my parents had given me a trip to Europe instead. Or a car. Oh, a car made in Europe! With a cute European dude in it.
Anyway, on the much-delayed upside, Roomie just last week realized that he's married to a debutante. Yes, Mr. Scientist-guy/Runner/Enginerd, you married a debutante!
Sunday morning whilst I was viewing said video tapes, Roomie shouted from the family room the most bizarre combination of words I'd heard from him in
Cat poop coffee?! Of course, I accused him of making it up because I'd never heard of it before, and well, I know everything because, dude, I'm on the Internets all the time.
And we all know the Internets knows all.
Well, I looked it up and simultaneously felt horrified, fascinated, and out-of-the-loop. Out-of-the-loop, because this coffee originates in South East Asia, where I was born so I should have at least heard about it. Fascinated, because let's face it, this is interesting new stuff to learn. And horrified, because this is coffee made from beans that come out of a cat's ass, people!
Really, hey, Mr. First-guy-who-thought-of-doing-this, were you so desperate to have your morning cup of joe that you saw this and thought "this would be tasty"?!
Anyway, I'd go on about this, but Horrified is beating the crap out of Fascinated. However, I will not stand in your way of learning something new, so go and read more about Kopi Luwak here.
Kinda makes me glad I don't drink coffee anymore. You know, just in case I find myself accidentally drinking this. Eek.
And of course, just when I thought things couldn't get any worse, Roomie walked into the room wearing my yoga pants, looking better in them than I ever have!
Oh, he doesn't have to use the drawstring like I do, and his inseam's longer (not by much though -- my height's all in my legs), but the dang thing looked like it was made for him.
Almost makes me want to go and take up running. Almost.
Good golly, I could use some coffee about now...