Overheard in the And Candy House

Perhaps unsurprisingly, the following conversation took place while lounging on the couches on a Sunday evening.

Mr.&C: I wish they had home delivery chocolate.

S&C: "Hello, pizza place? Can you please bring us your smallest cheapest pizza and also stop by the grocery store and bring us some chocolate?"
...Ohhh, imagine if they had home delivery for Krispy Kreme. We'd be fat as hell!

Mr.&C: Fatter as hell.


Dear Reader, what do YOU wish came home-delivered?

X factor

I am X.

Only a small percentage of all humans are X, so I guess you could say I was in a minority (interestingly, I have heard that the percentage is slightly higher among creative types).

You can't tell I'm X just by looking at me. Most people are surprised when they find out that I am X. X is not a characteristic I chose to have, but one that is naturally part of who I am. Being X is something you are born with.

Not so long ago, being X was seen as wrong, even a sign of evil. My grandfather was X, but when it was found out, he was physically punished and forced to be not-X. These days, most people don't see anything wrong with being X. You might even see an X character in a movie or TV show.

What is X? Highlight the line below to find out.
X = left-handed

How many Horsemen of the Apocalypse?

Pestilence, War, Famine, Death, Using Literally When You Mean Figuratively.

Who are your bonus Horsemen of the Apocalypse?

Steamed.

When I step out of the shower I feel glorious.

Full and luscious and soft, my skin plump with water and gently steaming like the fluffiest, whitest bun. My lime and brown sugar scrub makes me smell like the promise of a mojito.

Then I pull on my jeans... and suddenly I feel like a giant blob of sausage stuffed into not enough skin.

Did that actually just happen?

In the dentist's waiting room, a large woman with an extreme mullet (crew-cut in the front and waist length waves in the back) loudly discussed her gastric bypass surgery and then proudly described her checkers set...

...the pieces of which were shot glasses...

...with Dale Earnhardt Junior for one side and NASCAR for the other...

...She picked up this gem for the incredible sum of fifteen dollars at Big Lots*.

And I am a terrible person, because I could not keep a straight face. I'm not made of stone, people. But honestly, good for her. We should all be made so happy so easily. But perhaps with better haircuts.



*A dreadful discount goods store where everything is either broken, overpriced for its quality level, unbelievably tacky, or some combination of these three.