Exhibit 5.25

New Year's Resolutions

1. Post more. Dropping under 20 a month is just embarrassing.
2. Take stairs to office. Initially I wrote "Take stares to office." I'll do that one, too.
3. Start reading Ward 6. That doesn't really need an explanation.
4. Make more salads. It's not that I feel like I don't eat enough salad as is, it's just that I feel like I need at least one diet related resolution.
5. Stop spending 6 hours per day thinking about Bill Parcells.
6. Train dog. I'm not sure what to train her to do though. Possibly to eat all the extra salad I'll be making.
7. Use spell check. I'm serious this time.

Exhibit 2.25

The view from my work desk:



That's fifteen stories up, about as tall as you can get in Lincoln due to archaic height laws passed to maintain the status of our beloved capitol building.

Now, the view from my home desk:

Sit back and watch as this already spectacularly awful blog becomes nothing but pictures of dogs and cute children I see.

Exhibit 1.26

Candy Bar Review: Pearson's Salted Nut Roll





I don't really want to review candy bars. Or anything for that matter, but at this point I feel like I need the warm hug of criticism to prevent myself from realizing I am essentially writing something that might better be called Candy Bar Musings. Pretending that I am doing the arduous work of the critic prevents me from realizing that I am slowing turning into a character from Cathy.

But I am happy to be writing about this particular candy bar, a classic that has been newly added to the Johnston Girls Memorial Candy Bar Basket (who, in case you are curious, are either still seeking expensive medical treatment or raising funds for a Girl Scout camp, it's unclear). The Pearson's Salted Nut Roll is a staple of my childhood, but it's all somewhat ephemeral as I can't really connect it to any one person or place. I vaguely remember my grandfather liking them, though I can't be sure if I'm not just confusing what is the candy bar's inherent grandfatherly nature with my grandfather's inherent grandfatherly nature.

It's a simply executed concept with only three elements: salted peanuts, caramel, and a white substance that could be anything but is most likely some kind of glue stick. Despite it's depression-era simplicity, the Salted Nut Roll is a pretty great snack.

Oh, and according to its wrapper, it's a good source of protein (and presumably salt and bone meal).