What's cookin', good lookin'?
The three musketeer-ettes coerced me into letting them use the kitchen even though I was freaking out waiting for the Guess ladies to show up for their first paid for class. The Guess girls do keep me guessing as they don't smile much and I can't tell if they hate me or if they just hate exercise. I smelled cigarette smoke on at least one of them. Anyway, they are, as predicted, growing on me. I may adopt them Angelina Jolie style and take lots of paparazzi photos of us together holding hands. Or perhaps my neighbors who were glued to their windows during the class -- it never occurred to me to lower the music volume -- have in mind one of those lovely photos of us in orange jumpsuits holding up numbers and looking grim.