Jun 15, 2006 10:12
my coffee tastes like soap.
doug was struck down by something he ate at anna's taqueria. He is in bed, and refused oatmeal. He couldn't sleep last night.
If Doug dies from gastric distress, I will be very sad. Then I will marry the idea of horchata. (But not if the Horchata was the thing that killed Doug.)
My coffee still tastes like soap. I bet the coffee maker wasn't rinsed properly.
blech.
doug,
food,
sickness