Rosemary & Olive Oil Triscuits, to be specific.
They are Heaven.
Well, at least they are when they are slathered in cream cheese.
The results of my trip, as you can see,
out me as a cheese and cracker kinda gal—BUT OH~
why in the name of the goddess who resides in Triscuit heaven
is Rachael Ray’s squinty grin plastered on everything that was once Good and Holy.
I am frightened a little.
I liked her for awhile, but now I find her more irritating than a summer’s rash. My dad, who I believe once desired to marry the woman, can’t stand her anymore either. Of course, I think he was a little disappointed in her naughty spread for FHM magazine. (For the curious but lazy, I put them in my photos. But don’t blame me if you have nightmares.)
Now, I must go. Mr. Toby (doggy do-wrong) is hopelessly sad in Kevin’s brief absence and I am feeling a little guilty.
I’m going to take my divine snacks- which includes a half and half cocktail of cranberry juice and ginger ale- and park myself on the couch for some Court TV.