Okay. So after werk just now Jenn-of-the-granny-car and I (yes, J-o-t-g-c works at Sizz-ears now! woohoo!), went out to this little restaurant/bar thing downtown that neither of us had previously been to. It was rather nifty. Of course, I had to order the "Death Wish" wings.

Now, most of the time, if I order something spicy as I am wont to do, the waitperson will say "Oh, are you sure? That's really hot!", then when they bring the food and I try it, I proceed to laugh at the extreme mildness of said entree.

But these wings?

Were HOT.

*Yes, please take note of this date: Saturday, July 26, 2003- Sarah said food was hot.*

Jenn tried one, and just about keeled over (almost). But then again, she thinks "mild" food is hot. Haha. ;)

I ate seven and took the remaining four home in a box. Breakfast, naturally.

But yeah, before we left, the waiter said this to me: "Good luck tomorrow!" What is up with that??? Does that mean I can call in sick?!?

Mmmmmmm, death wings. I can almost feel my lips again. Almost.

I'm in an unreasonably good mood, especially for such a painfully boring day at werk. Make it stop. Hahahahaha.

(Did I just write an entire entry about wings? I need to get out more. Drat that broken telekinesis.)

Okay I'm going to go away now. Or maybe it's mudslide time, who knows. Goodnight. :)

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