Let's get the bitching out of the way first. I spent 90 minutes in traffic on the commute home today. That's in addition to my normal 50-ish minutes. At least I managed to read 25 pages while stuck on 270. When I got home, I had the worst feeling that I forgot to turn the crock pot on this morning. Turns out, I did turn it on and the house smelled like oniony pork goodness. I took Belle for the first of her walks and got the mail. I finally got the new Jim Butcher book and a package that I thought contained two of the Richard Stark's I'm missing. Bad surprises were two-fold. One, instead of Ask the Parrot by Richard Stark, I got something called Blues for Charlie Darwin. Secondly, the Atlanta Book Company is another name for Thrift Books, a company I resolved not to order anything else from a couple years ago after seeing how different our ideas of "Good Condition" were. I sent them an email. We'll see what comes of it. Fuckers.
I returned home and checked out my crock pot concoction. Well, at least it smelled delicious. It didn't taste bad but it was bland and the pork was overdone. I think if I added some beef stock and used a small roast, it would have been better. Good thing I only have to eat a serving of it. It sucks though since the smell really got my hopes up.
Better take my hound out before the alleged rain gets here.
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