I swear these are going to kill me, anyway. The batter has a consistency approaching dough (drop cookie dough, anyway) and contains 1/2 cup butter and 1/2 cup full-fat sour cream. I don't know what the fuck I'll do with the remaining sour cream when the two batches are finished.
But HOLY GOD, do they look like they will taste awesome. Like artery-clogging awesome. What better way to honor a coworker who is about to have a baby? I can't think of one.
I don't know what to report about this week. It was a week. Work is starting to get busy. I was forced to socialize with coworkers Thursday after work and drank so much water, I thought I was going to explode. (Needless to say, almost everyone else was drinking something a little less hydrating.) Being a non-drinking semi-vegetarian makes for strange company in most circles.
Netflix is fucking up again, which is wonderful. Last week they sent Homicide: Season 1&2, Vol. 1, but disguised as Vol. 2. I had just returned Vol. 1 (not disguised as anything), so I did what I thought I was supposed to do: reported it as mislabeled and mailed it back on Monday with the other two movies. By Tuesday, Netflix had received the other two movies. As of now, they haven't received the mislabeled disc, but I can't report it missing, because apparently, if you report one problem, you're spent. No more problems are allowed. So I emailed customer service, but have yet to hear back beyond the confirmation message. Grrrr.
Maybe I will write more later, but that was about the extent of my week outside copious Tuesday-TV watching. Why must House AND Veronica Mars be so good and on at the same time? Why are Scrubs and The Office, which I would like to give a second chance, on then, too? And the goddamn Amazing Race? Fuck you, network programmers.