I ate sushi and an onigiri today, only to recall that I have corned beef and cabbage sitting in the fridge. Tomorrow, I suppose.
During the process of procuring raw fish and cooked rice (I prefer it that way rather than the other way 'round) I also purchased a blanket. A red fleece thing. They lacked green, so I went with my second choice. I worry I'll be mocked for this, but I'm wearing a sweater. It's not like I didn't put effort into maintaining an internal temperature of ninety-eight degrees Fahrenheit (thirty-seven degrees centigrade).
By the way, 'centigrade' makes far more sense than 'Celsius.' It is a grade against which temperature is gaged, starting from the freezing point of water and ending at the boiling point of water. It is divided into one hundred individual points, the SI prefix for which is 'centi-.' I passed a multitude of maths. I challenge you to defy me.
At twenty dollars, I can't argue with this investment. Red fuzzy fleece. It's just harder to stay awake at work now.
On a completely unrelated but far more interesting note, joys upon joys danced around my feet like rejoicing Minpins, and they brought forth this as a burnt offering. I gladly accepted and graced their farmlands with heavy crops that they may spend the winter in lavish repose.
"A federal judge ordered the Bush administration yesterday to accede to the EFF's Freedom of Information Act request."
Simply delicious.
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