There's a whole lot I don't write about on this blog. Some things are best left private.
For instance, I don't talk about the inner workings of my marriage. As any married person knows, there's a reason why you don't want to know what goes into hot dogs. Am I right or am I right?
Well, fuck that for a second because I'm pissed.
I wrote an entry earlier about the recipe from last week. I wrote it and there was a mistake in it.
First, let me tell you about the mistake. I wrote "I'll spoil the surprise now and tell you that I used chicken, because I just find it easier to BBQ. " Now, this implies that I did the BBQ'ing. In fact, my wife did. She barbequed the chicken. Now, the statement is factually accurate - I did use chicken and I do find it easier to BBQ, I just prefer not to - but the implication, as I mentioned, was incorrect.
So, I'm sitting at my desk, minding my own business, when I get this phone call from Vicky (she was upstairs - don't ask), who just read the entry, just going off on me because I made that mistake. This is my wife, ladies and germs. She loves to point out my flaws and does it often and - it's times like this that I'm glad I'm not a religious man because I can avoid hypocricy - so help me I just want to smack her. I'm really glad I have a flight of stairs between her and me right now.
So, there you go. I told her I'd write a retraction for my grevious error and here it is... now, I'm going out to buy a pack of cigarettes...