Note: Due to yesterday’s SOPA blackout (which I spent in my pajamas, eating M&M cookies and I REGRET NOTHING) this week’s WTF Wednesday is appearing today. Which, I’m told, is a Thursday. But really, who’s keeping track?

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Looks lovely, right? But WAIT, there's more.

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I began questioning authority at a tender young age. This is in no small part due to my Floridian primary school education, which could have caused the most obedient of children to stand up and scream, “WHAT IN THE HELL IS GOING ON AROUND HERE?”.

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Because life shouldn't be censored.

Hi folks,

I’m afraid I have to go and get all political on you. I’m truly sorry. You know how desperately I try not to be informed about, well, anything (for proof, please note the time I got Greenwich and North Greenwich mixed up. Or when I claimed that leprechauns were from Scotland.)

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There are times when I am reminded of why, despite all my travels, Seattle will always be home to me. I’ll always come back here. I’ll always love it.

It may be true that during our rainy season, a woman could go through her entire gestation cycle and produce a lovely, though Vitamin-D-deficient, child. Or that many of our drivers are suffering from lifelong cases of idiocy. Or that our prices for necessities are so outrageous, Rand and I once paid $7 for a bottle of orange juice (tip: a great way to numb the pain of expensive OJ? Screwdrivers).

But every now and then you will get a sunset like this one, in the middle of January, no less:

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And you wonder how anyone could live anywhere else.

The other day, Rand and I were talking to one another, which is something we do when we aren’t sleeping, eating, or staring mindlessly at our keyboards (Yup. Our lives are full of romance. ENVY US). I can’t seem to retrace the steps of the conversation to how we got where we did, but at one point, I said one of those crazy, unprecendented statements that causes everyone to pause and reflect on how weird the discussion has become.

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Yesterday, it snowed in Seattle. This is a rarity in the Pacific Northwest. We’re no strangers to precipitation, but not of the frozen variety. A sprinkling of snow tends to shut the entire town down.

So you can just imagine what happened yesterday, when FIVE INCHES of snow fell. Buses stopped running. Streets were closed. People frantically dragged their poor husbands to the grocery stores at ridiculously early hours in order to get food so that they would not starve during the imminent ice age (okay, fine. That last one might have been me. I’m not sitting through snowpocalypse without a run to Trader Joe’s first).

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It’s Friday the 13th, and there’s been shockingly little hockey mask wearing and chainsaw wielding in our next of the woods. I am perfectly okay with this (hopefully, the same will be said of the next two Fridays the 13th that will occur this year). The sun is shining here in Seattle, there’s frost on the ground, and it’s about as idyllic as you can get for January. So while I bask in the peace and quiet of my hometown, you enjoy these links.

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I think I may have fallen in love with this red-headed siren and her cover of “Feel Good Inc” by Gorillaz.

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Like I needed another excuse to love Girl Scout cookies, a troop in Colorado recently let a transgendered 7-year-old join their organization. Pass the Samoas.

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Is it possible to make something truly wonderful (and fattening) even more wonderful (and also more fattening)? Of course. This is America, damn it. Where we don’t take “no” or “that’s irresponsible from a dietary standpoint” for an answer. Where we take our dessert with an extra side of dessert.

Behold:

Somewhere, someone is starving to death. </seriousness>

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These are the cones that Rand and I spotted at an ice cream shop in Pennsylvania that was graciously named “Pigadilly’s“.  If the extra $1.50 price tag looks a little steep, remember: innovation and genius do not come cheap. You aren’t just paying for a cone – you are investing in what makes American great.

And also investing in what makes America fat. But let’s focus on the great part.