Top Posts Tagged with #wrong wrong wrong

grief really is endless huh. it is always resting in wait and hits you periodically forever and ever huh.

#the 1 year anniversary of my grandpa's death was yesterday so i was already feeling existential and weird #so this liam tribute is hitting like a ton of bricks and i only watched like 30 seconds before i had to pause and collect myself #like WHY am i seeing his face in an 'in memorial' context. that is. not right #wrong wrong wrong

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if you hate gabi a curse will descend upon your entire bloodline

#logged onto my iwtv twt and immediately saw tweets from losers saying gabi should suffer #WRONG #WRONG WRONG WRONG #ᛪ༙. ❪ found me in a long wood. ❫ gabriehle ⛰︎ . ooc.

I love Elijah Volkov

WRONG.

WRONG

WRONG!!!!

#WRONG WRONG WRONG #elijah hate asks #camp here and there #chnt #mod 🐛

Pixie try wolf painting with watercolor paint . very very very hard work . because . Pixie get sting by poor sad bee right before go to art studio . and . wrong painting room different and so very wrong very upset wrong room for 4 weeks :( :( :(

#wrong wrong wrong #watercolor painting #wolf #actually disabled #original art

Tuesday, Tuesday, Tuesday ... another (blue) Tuesday in Tuesdayville ...

Blue sky ... blue mood ... blue mountains ... blue moon ... (shakes head and sighs) ... all of these I can accept, but blue food??? Bleuch!!!

A friend kindly sent me pictures of this latest 'culinary' horror. I blinked ... I blinked some more ... but no, the image just wouldn't go away. Blue food just never looks appetising. No matter which way you dress it up, that stuff is just wrong, wrong, wrong ... and, having once upon a time tasted Doritos, I can well imagine just how cloying and icky nasty that blue powder would be on the tongue (shudders).

All this talk of blue food makes me think back to the darkly distant and heady days of food experimentation that I went through with a friend. Some of his cuisine would have you dreaming of it for days ... other items would simply haunt you for many a night. The memory that sticks was the day he did the Sunday roast ... four of us were sat down, all hungry as hell, cutlery in hands and, if memory serves, there was a fair bit of shouting going on as to the whereabouts of our food.

To be fair, the smell was good as it wafted through and the saliva was building and tummies were grumbling in anticipation ............. that is, until the chicken reached the table. If any of you remember Fanny Craddock, then this bit of poultry was a heavy nod to her. Not only had he stuffed bits of mushroom, onion and carrot underneath the chicken skin, but ... (cue drum roll) ... he'd died the mashed potato blue and had piped quite a wall of it around the chicken.

Truly a sight to behold!?! And one that meant every bit of cutlery was laid down on the table along with the jaws of all us open mouthed and somewhat less hungry diners. Not only would Fanny have applauded his creation ... I reckon Bridget Jones might have been pretty appreciative aswell. ;-D

I once made a blue cake ... but let's not talk about that. ;-)

Ach well, time for me to go ... Tuesdayville calls, along with breakfast ... fingers crossed ain't none of it gonna turn up blue! ...