Sugar and Stupid

I'm experimenting with monitoring my sugar intake. I went almost four weeks without, and I've been binging for the last week and a half since. I'm feeling the need to get back on or off the wagon as semantics dictate. But I bought some peanut butter filled pretzels which got me thinking, and thinking led to stumbling upon and eventually making these nugs (ah, nugs).

As far as the stupid goes, I still don't understand it. Last night I was playing hold'em on the old lappy 486, and one fella—screen name of headhunter—says to another fella—screen name of trout woodend—is that your real name? Chuckle as needed there. Trout says no. Hunter says, well, do you fish? Trout: no, can't fish to save my life. Finally I ask in Hunter's general direction, do you hunt heads? A few clicks pass. Then he responds that he is a Chelsea Headhunter. So I'm thinking to myself that this guy lines up gallery workers on the left side of Manhattan (network sparkplug fires in my broken brain engine). Then he says to google it. I come back after looking, checking my new hole cards upon my return, and a bit befuddled I type, "Wait, so you're a racist soccer hooligan???" No response, and a couple hands later he leaves the table, off to bash some Pakis or queers or white heterosexuals who cheer for the team 20 Imperial Miles from there. I guess I just don't understand how in a global forum such as an online poker room one would freely offer, and seemingly proudly at that, that one is a worthless piece of fuck. Hmmm. Oh well. Moving on.

 
And speaking of stupid, a word on Libya's history and its relation to today's festivities—literal and figurative (and by figurative, I mean bombs). Plus, I just liked the picture of the Mummster, because it reminded me of el cuñado from my newest favorite jones.

"He's more worthless than the black Thompson Twin"