Austria: consider yourself summarily defeated.

Austria's dastardly plans to keep my ears dirty, my room dark and salsa out of my mouth have all been thwarted. And all in a day. Q-Tips? Found them. In the baby section, to the right of the formula, below the wipes, bottom shelf, behind the display. Lightbulbs? Found them. By the shoestrings and nail files. Salsa? Made it, thanks to the valiant efforts of Mike and Jamie. And it was good. So there it is. Living life like it ought to be lived. I can think of a few things worse than living a life in which you never tasted salsa. A few, but not many. If you throw out being born blind or not being born at all, that brings the number to less than ten. Let me tell you this one time, Mike's salsa is delicious. I have often joked that I like salsa so much I could eat it with a spoon. I did, in fact, eat a great deal of this salsa with a spoon. Next time I make it, which will be soon, I am going to add extra jalapenos to keep my roommates and their wussy European tastebuds away from it. Chance of me making salsa again tomorrow are better than the chance it will snow again tomorrow. Chance of snow tomorrow? 90%. While we are on the subject of great culinary achievement...if Mexican restaurants were beverage containers, Taco Bell would be a Dixie cup with a hole in the bottom and La Huerta would be the Holy (insert expletive here) Grail.