Time for the Dead Celebrity Party, to be held at an undisclosed location high in the Pennsylvania Appalachian Mountains.
I didn't go last year.
I forget why.
How could I forget the person stapled to my leg. (At the time, to my boobs.)
In holding true to a theme, I once again am dressing as a dead Latino. Or Latina.
There was Che, immortalized here, and on several billion liberal arts student T-shirts.
Then a few years ago there was Frida.
I am once again trying to come up with some celebrity I half-way resemble, but according to this
I don't look like anyone who is yet deceased. Thank goodness.
However, I now understand why chicks and drag queens dig me so much.
Anyway, as far as the dead celebrity I finally decided on, I'll leave you here with a teaser:
Look at the title of this post. Sssssshhhhhhhhh!
In other news relevant to food and all things...uhm...food, here's an entertaining post or two to read while I put on my make-up.
Eggplant, Oh Eggplant
Leeks: Who Knew?
The Veggies Are Here! The Veggies Are Here!
WARNING: The last post contains photos of adults dressed as produce, and an evil smiling tomato, all of which may be disturbing to minors. And pets.
I'll be back soon with photos of my drunken debauchery.
I mean, my costume.