I will not and cannot officially draw a parallel between anyone I know and the hungover Ann Perkins from Parks and Recreation:

She woke up in snow pants! This episode features some silly drunkenness and then some aftermath hangover hilarity. I happened to watch this particular episode very recently, which was appropriate for no reason (that I can say). I do not endorse overalcoholizing.

In other news, I took a picture of this corn last night.

It goes down in history as the worst corn I’ve ever tasted and one of the top ten worst things I’ve ever eaten. I almost wish I could feed it to you to prove that I am not exaggerating (then I’d give you some kind of memory-erasing drug so that you don’t have to remember the evil that I remember). The brave two who tried it likened it to a “corpse,” to “when you have a dream when your teeth fall out, except here the teeth are the corn,” and … ooo, blug, maybe I need to stop there. You get the picture.

In other other news, I saw Contagion with my honeyman over the weekend. It was okay, although I’m always puzzled by Soderburgh’s lack of emotion towards his characters. Also, I wanted more ramped up, post-apocalyptic, oh, remember the world the way it was? bittersweetness. And honestly? I wanted more bodies. But it did make me thing about, well, contagion. I don’t know if I’ve lessened the number of times I touch my face daily, but I did something I would not have previously. I did not touch these peppers.

They’re made of something nice and shiny, they’re not real, and they are intriguing-looking. They’re in a friendly clear urn right at Becky level. I darted my hand towards them and actually pulled back, thinking “ew! contagion!”

So there’s that. Draw your own tidy conclusion to this mess of a post while I nap.