… And another thing; this is why I don’t trust grits
I don’t know if its relegated to the tri-state area or what, but I love Music Choice. Its the series of channels that you are likely to have if you’ve got one of those nifty cable boxes; they start at 600 or something (depending on where you live) and offer some ridiculous assortment of music PLUS facts about who you’re listening to. So just now, I learned that Al Green suffered 3rd degree burns when his girlfriend threw hot grits on him. I was horrified.
Salient Alanna fact – I don’t trust grits. When I was younger, I mistook a box of grits for a box of Cream of Wheat. Or maybe I was just stupid and didn’t realize that Cream of Wheat rarely comes in that cylindrical container. Anyway, after heroically making the grits, I triumphantly poured the contents of the pot into my bowl and added milk. And sugar. And sugar. And sugar. Whatever was taking over my bowl and rapidly becoming a solid, inedible mess, it refused sweeten. Since then, I’ve launched a private war on grits. And uh, that Al Green thing just settled it.