Maybe you are like me and don't make your own delicious steamy roasted red pepper and tomato soup. Maybe you even get around to buying some actual tomatoes with every intention of using them before they get soggy and/or fuzzy on the side that touches the bowl/plate/dish. These may come in handy in a quick sec. Unless you excluded from chicken cutlet night.
So I may or may not still subscribe to a silly little newsletter called GOOP. It's more than silly, sometimes it's just plain insulting to those of us who live under the I-am-so-completely-rich-it's-ri.ddi.cu.lus tax bracket. Most of the time I read those silly little newsletters and my eyes roll back in my head, my head spins around, steam pours out of my ears and I start to talk like Snooki.
I always want to delete them when I see them pop into my inbox, but I wonder: Will it be about luxury hotels I will never ever dream of setting my regular person shoes in? Will it be about a master cleanse that will require me to survive by scraping ginger with my teeth and sucking on a lemon for my daily ration of moisture while functioning at the level required to do my job and provide for the kiddies? If you so desire, you may now throw your tomatoes. At GP. Not at me, yo, don't be a hater.
I clenched my jaw and squinted my eyes as I opened the It's GOOP- Make email that came out earlier this month, but was surprised to find, hey- we've got a situation.
It's about Meat Free Monday. I was ready to tackle that like a monkey.
Monday came and went. As did Tuesday. Then the next one and the one after that. But yesterday I ran into Trader Joe's looking for some inspiration. I grabbed some TJ's spinach pies*, a box of roasted red pepper and tomato soup and a bag of sweet potato fries. Dinner practically cooked itself, cost me around $10.00 and was really, f*cking fantastic. I dished it up and was all, here bro, chew on this. It was sick.
Don't mind my absence. I'm just really busy catching up on Jersey Shore. I am not over here wrestling with any dramatic existential blogging conflicts or anything or smooshing. Nope.
I'm out.
(*Not sponsored. Just better than a boardwalk brawl after bar.)
