Basketball Boogie Boogaloo

I did it! I finally defeated my 8-year-old neighbor in a game of Horse. After the first shot I hit, he proudly exclaimed, "Hey! You didn't airball it!" I'm way more excited about this than a grown man should be. When he asked why I'm so bad at basketball, I told him I was more accustomed to a 10-foot rim rather than his 8-foot one. Which is true - I've spent far more time airballing on 10-foot rims than 8.

We have a General Mills plant in town. It's right next to the highway, which is where I spend a lot of time stuck in traffic. It's fun to guess what cereal they're making at the moment by the smells. While I was sitting in my parked car on the highway the other day, I was thinking about how we decide whether something smells good or something smells bad. Then a thought that wrecked my whole world schema popped up - WE DON'T KNOW WHAT ANYTHING SMELLS LIKE! At least, not fully. That perfume you like? It smells like perfume...and boogers. Cookies in the oven? Mmmm...and boogers. Every scent you know is tainted by what's already in your nose. I may have just changed your life. You're welcome.

I never know what to bring to potlucks. I want something cheap and easy that looks like it was expensive and time consuming. Not that I'm going to any potlucks anytime soon. I was just a bit peckish and thought a potluck sounded good.


What are you bringing to my potluck?
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