Yesterday, he asked me what I had planned the rest of the day and I mentioned I was meeting six women for brunch who were part of a group that did a semester in London together in college - we were sending off one of our ranks as she embarks on a new chapter in Kansas. He queried, "where are you going to brunch?" and I replied, "a place called Blend 111."
Puzzled, he asked, "There is a restaurant named Bland?" And I
sarcastically patiently explained, "yes, they named the restaurant 'Bland' - I guess 'Beige Milquetoast Mediocrity” was already taken."
|Note: I feel compelled to share this is |
a really great restaurant. The food is anything
BUT bland, and the service is phenomenal.
In different and equally ridiculous news, another friend is spending time redecorating a cabin she owns in the woods. (You may remember a horror movie weekend I spent there several years ago.) To add to the rustic, outdoorsy vibe, she ordered these prints to adorn the cabin walls:
So you can imagine her surprise when she opened the (correctly-labeled) prints and found the following inside:
|Less of a rustic, outdoorsy vibe, and somehow feels more like a place|
I'd wanna stay. (Apparently, Banksy is now at an Amazon fulfillment center.)
Definitely not bland,