mmmm pizza

Mmmmm. Pizza from the little pizza place just up the road. Just up the road with the MASSIVE pothole in the middle of the driveway, and the scary guy who sits, smokes, washes kitchen towels and generally is freaky. Ew. In other news, the drive home was REALLY good. I hit a purple patch on the interstate - the on-ramp of doom didn't attempt to kill me this time, rather I got on in a huge patch of no traffic. Rule. So my compadre and I had dinner, and now she's writing a formal analysis on a statue and watching trashy MSNBC "Busted in the Big Easy" on teevee. I, on the other hand, will be updating this and then turning my laptop off. Laundry calls, you see, and when you have no shirts to wear it's a call that must be heeded. Toodle pip.