Adena and I have been kicking it up a notch over at Maplecrest Trailer Home. I recommend the 5 Guys in a Limo video.

Paula Deen just added about 3 cups peanut butter to a couple sticks of butter. I'm sitting here watching Paula and her amazing heart disease pie because my grandmother went into the hospital with pneumonia this morning and we're waiting until we can go see her. Unfortunately it also happens to be Christmas. This is by far the most bummer Christmas ever to occur in the Richardson household, though I heard a fucking destroyer of an NPR story the other day about people who volunteer to read letters to Santa sent through the USPS and pick out the ones that come from obviously needy children. All those kids seemed like they were accustomed to depressing Christmas mornings, so I guess I'm thankful this is the first one I've ever been through.

My grandfather has Alzheimer's and he keeps telling me this joke:

"You can always tell a freshman by how confused he looks. You can always tell a senior by how proud he is. You can always tell a sophomore, but you can't tell him much."

Last night when we got home from the airport I said that I was hungry. My mom then proceeded to casually whip up some butternut squash ravioli in a balsamic reduction sauce. This raises the obvious question: why do I ever leave this house?

This semester I: briefly met Rilo Kiley (and gave them candy!), had the opportunity to take a creepy picture with cardboard cutouts of Disney boy band the Jonas Brothers. Also I went to school.

From left to right: over-zealous soccer coach dad, Amish robot, pregnant teen, frog pilot, me w/mustache, fortune cookie, '60s flight attendant/Audrey Hepburn (?)

And I made this with MS Paint, which will be the cover art when I finally get around to putting out my debut album:

And I went to class most of the time and learned a lot about Renaissance Art History, even though that's not my major. And now I'm home in a room that's bigger than the majority of the apartments on the lower end of Manhattan and a lot of places in Brooklyn. New York is a very strange place where people spend too much money and yet basically live like they're in Soviet-era Moscow.

From here I'm off to Madrid for a semester, where I will presumably pick up a lisp and a grody European man who may or may not have an STD. I'll probably never be quite sure since my spoken Spanish is barely decent enough to put in an order at Taco Bell.

Happy holidays.

I know I posted that a couple months ago, but humanity needs to be reminded of this performance as often as possible.

On Saturday I saw a play (at NYU) in which one of the characters yells, "We see God through our assholes!" I do love the theatre.

Tune into Idolator all day Friday for my own special blend of herbs and spices.