since apparently no one enjoys bagel porn, here is a nice wholesome tray of roasted veggies! and, for those of us whose hands went numb on the three-block walk to work today, roasting anything makes your apartment nice and warm. (i mixed these up with some israeli couscous and am counting down the minutes until it is a reasonable time to heat it up for lunch.)

Rutty Rut rut

I dunno guys, this pole seems a bit exaggerated. We're at a post a day average so far, right? That's about what we've had (aside from our initial outpouring last year, and a cheesy "fondue Feb.") Furthermore, we always seem to turn it up toward the end of the month for reasons I can't make sense of.

In any case, the title explains it all for me. My life, my cooking, even my eating out. Do you have any idea how many potatoes I eat? (Oh, and by the by, apparantly you can survive on those and milk, 50% of the nutrients are in the white interior to all of those who say it's all in the skin, and if you cook and then cool the suckers something like 17% of their mass makes it undigested to the small intestine, preventing cancer and cleaning things out better than any starvation cleanse could.) Maybe we need some sort of a summer plan. I'm thinking soviet 5-year plan on a (much) smaller scale. Maybe some new known unknowns would be nice too. I first came to NY without having tried all kinds of weird things. I've subsequently tried them, but surely not all of them.

In any case, my bagel bits are done, so I'm going to go eat them and read some awful french political philosophy.