Guys, Martha has spoken and autumn is no longer basic. In these hundred pages of pumpkin goodness there is not one latte, not one ugg, not one pair of leggings and tunic.
Let’s check out Martha’s calendar for the month, shall we?
I wonder if she hosted these in prison?
Guys my best friend Emeril is just having a small get together…
I don’t know guys, I’ve lived in Wisconsin my whole life and I have never been like oh man honey, let’s go to Green Bay for a food and wine extravaganza.
That’s how the devil gets you, Martha.
I have seen a lot of scary images in my time. This is without a doubt the most terrifying.
This seems like a lot of work just to be a douche.
You know what isn’t cozy? Bankruptcy. Which is what I’d be in if I bought anything on this page.
So let me get this straight. You’re scared of liquid foundation but not of finding a gourmet meal in the Frozen Tundra?
My mantra is “only thirty seven years to retirement.”
Ooh! Here’s something I can use. Given that my children are basically Petri dishes of disease with curls, I need this.
Hahahahaha. I almost choked on the wine I’m drinking to handle my stress.
Funny this never happens when you buy it in the little bear squeeze thing.
Don’t buy suede pieces. There ya go.
Or! Those big shaker things from Aldi that can survive an apocalypse.
We’re going to do this this year! I’m gonna tell my kids we’re carving pumpkins and then get out a gauge and star map. It’s gonna be great.
Did I say great? I meant a disaster. It’s going to be a disaster.
Finally- know how you can tell that you are a rich white lady? You fill up your massive natural wood fireplace with expensive bejeweled pumpkins in an adorably haphazard manner.