That title is what I just heard E. say from the kitchen. He and S. are cracking and tasting a whole coconut left over from our luau party decorations... I think he just tasted the coconut milk. Perhaps there's a future in restaurant critiquing for this guy... There's a girlie at the coffee shop I go to most often who has the most fabulous, long, dreadlocked hair. Some days she weaves shells into her hair. And sometimes beads. It doesn't hurt that she's about a size -2 and has a gorgeous face, but I pretty much want to marry her. Yesterday, S. told me we should ask her name, so that we don't always have to call her "Dreadlock Girl." So we did. Her name is Brandy. We all pretty much have a crush on Brandy. She lives just around the corner from us. I haven't told her I know that, because that would seem stalker-ish. But I recognize her car and I see her walking her dog all the time. She burns incense in her flower beds. I've always been intruiged by f...