Famous angels never come to England.

Like Abigail and Heather Anne before me I've found it hard to write this week's post (but I find it hard to write every week's post, so that should come as no surprise). What makes my task particularly difficult is that you've already heard so many of our stories before. You heard about the time Joe attempted to navigate the Jukebox of Doom, and he was all:



And you've heard about our Flaming Tiki Drink of Doom, and it was all:



And of course, you've heard about the Battle of Hogwarts of Doom, where we were all:



But what you might not have heard about was the time we went to lunch at this cute little place Jennie and Joe suggested, and Heather Anne used her engineering prowess to construct the Coffee Creamer Temple of Doom:



And for her troubles she had the worst chicken pot pie in all of recorded history. And you know what? It was ALL MY FAULT. I said I was gonna get it and she was all, that sounds delicious! But then I have this thing where I am physically incapable of ordering the same thing as anyone else at the table so I got something else and she got stuck with inedible chicken pot pie when she could have had PANCAKES. She got the Chicken Pot Pie of Doom. So then she went to the wedding on an empty stomach and the rest is (hazy) history:



Of Doom.