Making dinner,
Kate thought #239005
Genetically modified Potatoes.
They're all the same size now, shape and color. huh. just like Robert Palmers dancers.
I'll miss peeling imperfect eyes and cratering out the brown spots.
I went home one year and a neighborhood boy came to the house asking to use the phone. My mother pointed to the phone on the wall. He picked up the giant, 70's gold receiver, and looked at her, "how do you use it?" It was a rotary phone. Maybe someday everything can be modified, and we can all look like Palmer's Irresistable.
I suppose a 5 pound bag of potatoes, will always need to be washed.

So tomorrow is "Rid yourself of this cranky bitch attitude, it's the holidays so stuff yourself with eggnog and light the fucking Christmas tree" day. Plans include going downtown to the see shop windows and freaky animatronic gizmos in the stores. Avoid the Harry Potter movie for another week, go buy 3 pounds of butter, pecans and waxed paper. Add vanilla. George will be supplying the mulled wine, so if the sugar coma doesn't get me first, um the alcohol sugar coma is sure to bring tidal waves of great joy. Pop in the Fred Astaire"s "Santa Claus is Coming to Town" video, the one with the bouncy camera and double shadows. I am positive that movie would have sent many children into conniptions, back in the 70's, if only we knew what seizures were. And oh yeah, Winter the scariest fucking bad guy ever created, thank you Arthur Rankin. Mix dry ingredients with eggs, and softened butter, form into bite sized Russian teaballs, roll in powered sugar and call it a day.

You'll be missed Holy Bean.