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Someone is wrong on the internet. And I swear I'm not letting it annoy me. Honest. Going to bed anytime now. Er, that is, making the vital vowel change from on bed to in bed.

So, yeah. Why is it that the only two days of real fast and abstinence are the only two days that I really want a giant burger with all the trimmings, a gallon of booze and some serious nookie? As opposed to fun nookie, or something. Bloody childishness trying to escape. Niamh's for first Communion this year. She was the only one in her class who knew why we celebrate Easter.

I like today. 'Tis the dad's birthday. He's 63 today. Happy birthday daddy! I'm going to bake a cake. I think he deserves it. And feck the abstinence. CAKE!

(no subject)

Hiding in my room. The alternative is screaming "It's not female circumcision, it's genital mutilation! Here's pictures!" Instead, I'll just scream internally.

This has been a feature of my conversations over the last week or so, the reason being somewhat obvious if you follow the news at all and know what I do. FGM is not something I would wish on anyone. Brand me culturally insensitive if you want, but I'll not condone that.

We can also add FGM to the list of "not ideal post-coital conversations." Still, if people are going to bring these things up, then they should expect a certain response. The placentophagy one, I admit, I probably took a bit too far. Especially when the person involved may have had some PTSD issues about placentas. Mentioning that got me branded "most likely to eat placenta."

And that's me calmed down enough to re-enter the kitchen. Where there is cake.