Twinkle: Karmic B*tchslap

All my recent hatin' on Cool Whip came back to haunt me today when I got a little overzealous and cranked up the KitchenAid way too high for the cream to handle gracefully. It clotted, and I sent Mr. Twinkle to the store for more, specifying that it had to be organic and hormone-free because we don't want Twinkle Jr. going through puberty when she's 3, do we? I did admit to Mr. Twinkle, and (more importantly) to myself, that it served me right for running my mouth about Cool Whip all the time.

In other news, I may be getting my hair cut by a man with a purple mohawk on Wednesday. I don't care what he looks like really, but it is a leap of faith to entrust one's hair to someone on the farthest fringes of fashion.