My next door neighbor is a peach. NOT. She's rude. RUDE, all capitals. She's also an atheist (she told me that), so I really feel sorry for her. She believes in "the power of the crystals." Her words, not mine. Those crystals ain't doing a damn thing for her.
Girlfriend is poor in spirit, so I decided to make her a blueberry pie.
I may need to make her a thousand pies, but we'll start with one.
I guess I can kiss my pie dish good-bye because she'll never return it.
The recipe called for 5 cups of blueberries. I only had 4. It's the thought that counts.
My crust is not pretty, but it tastes awesome. Cause I made it!
This neighbor is something else. I won't tell you stories because the truth is, we ALL know someone just like her. I can't even count the times I have complained to God why on earth He picked the house next door to mine to house her in.
Gotta go deliver this pie before I change my mind.
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