My Kingdom for an Ice Cream Maker!

Good goddamn. Good. God. Damn, I said! How is it that no one that I know within reach out and punch them proximity has an ice cream maker that I can beg, borrow or steal? Especially when I have a recipe for chocolate cinnamon cayenne ice cream burning a whole in my back pocket?

Help me out here, kids. Don't make me buy an ice cream machine just so I can do this. Don't make me!

Oh, snap, you're going to make me, aren't you? I shake my fist at you, all of the people I know and love who haven't had the forethought to purchase an ice cream machine so I can borrow it.

***

I know, its been a few days, no? Sorry about that. I wish I could tell you stories of an exciting life filled with pirates and monkeys, but, alas, I cannot.

I have done not much more then the hanging out. And the shopping for presents for other people that I can't talk about right now, but am aching to, because, hello, PERFECTION, but they won't arrive at their destination for days, so they need to be kept under the non-existant hat (monkey pirate hat?) until they arrive and are opened, but, oh god, I'm excited to hear about the reception and will stop talking in run-on sentences now.

So I need to be quiet for a bit. Because the urge to throw out the secret into the open is growing like a boil.

Lovely!

PS: talking about gifts, how pissy is it that most gift guides published in this day and age (I just said day and age! Hack, I am) place all the electronic toys on lists for men? I am not a man. My lady parts tell me this. And I fucking love electronic gadgets.

The end.