The New Year gingerbread turned out well, even though it was only a Betty Crocker mix. I remember the Dromedary mix being better, but I guess I was lucky to find even what I did. I nibbled at it all day, and of course spoiled my dinner. But it turns out that gingerbread goes surprisingly well with dark beer, so maybe I don't really need any dinner. Gingerbread does have egg in it, after all, so there's my protein. The yeast in the beer will have to serve as a vegetable. Yes, it counts!
I'm disappointed that we didn't go over the fiscal cliff. It was a great opportunity, and now it looks to me like Obama traded away most of the store for little more than cheap milk. I'm not a good poker player, but I'd love to play a few hands against him. All I'd have to do is pretend to be a Republican and I'd end up as rich as one. I could end up on television, too, as I could go to Las Vegas to sell the valuable White House artifacts I'd win from the President at that pawn shop where they make that show. I wonder what Rick would give me for, say, a nice porcelain vase from the Lincoln bedroom— maybe even one that Clinton took a leak in?
Time for more gingerbread. And beer.