Sometimes I wish I had writing talent. Then I read some really great writing like this review of The Worst Game Room Ever and realize that I have no right even thinking about writing stuff. Then I order some Italian food to be delivered, because I'm single and - well I'm single.

Anywho, as I'm eating, I run across Michele's review of a Burger King salad that is so incredibly well done that it almost gets me thinking that I'd rather be eating that salad than my Fettuccine Alfredo and garlic bread. Almost - because then I realize I hate BK, and I would feel really guilty eating the food that should go to my lizards. Not to mention that I just spent 5 bucks on a tri-color salad from Cinelli's (which is the rare 7 variety lettuce treat that I'll buy every couple of months for the reptiles).

That, and the thought of seafood in a salad makes me ill. Actually seafood in general makes me ill. I just don't like the idea of eating anything that I have owned as a pet, and the death of my Sea Monkeys as a child has weighs in really heavily when the notion of eating shrimp comes up. How could I, in good conscience, eat the kindred of my failed aquatic primate community???