I can't believe it's already Tuesday and I still haven't told you about my weekend. Jim has been telling me for ages (ok, a little over a year) about this donut place near Harvey Mudd (his alma mater) that has amazing donuts filled with fresh strawberry goodness. So after sitting on this information for too long, I got it in my mind that we had to go this past Saturday. Jim agreed. So I call Angel and tell him we're all going to Glendora for strawberry donuts.
It took us an hour, but Jim the Donut Man was worth leaving downtown for. Those strawberry donuts? It was like strawberry and glazed donut sex in my mouth. I also tried the bavarian cream, which was like creamy filling and chocolate-glazed donut sex in my mouth. The tiger tails were good, too. I don't remember what happened after that.
Then on Sunday night, we had Jim (fresh from the FOB to promote his book, LA Noir) and Gabrielle over for dinner, to thank them once again for guest-blogging and loft-sitting for us while we were in Hawaii. My Jim made margaritas using our new blender (thanks Jeff!), we caught up on each other's lives, barbecued some Hawaiian chicken and sesame salmon, they watched Sopranos, and Reverend Jim schooled me on graphic novels and comic books. Thanks again Jim and Gabrielle, for keeping the loft and the blog safe.
I don't think we can allow anymore people named Jim, James, or Angel into our lives, not unless they have a nickname, like Tastypants. Then it's okay. Otherwise, it's getting too confusing.