It'sa like-a... Judy-Chop!

If you can already tell me where my title is from, I applaud you and also invite you to be my best friend forever. My fellow Ninjita, if you will. 
We can even make bracelets!

However, if you have zero idea what I'm talking about, you need to watch this video before we continue. It's crucial to your existence and I promise you'll thank me.

Dead. Freakin'. Sexy.

OK, so, now that you're well-versed on how to throw your Skoal pack as a Ninjy star and also nunchuck a homie with an oh-so-harmless-looking gym class jumprope, we can continue.

As evidenced yesterday, I'm now old. Not old as in age ~ I'm 23, BeeTeeDubs ~ but old as in I don't mind a Saturday night filled with grocery shopping {and spongey spotted dick food} or a Monday night watching Jeopardy and screaming the answers like a maniac.

Oscar Wilde!

Smooth!

The South Side!

Shiiiiiit, I mean "What IS Oscar Wilde, Smooth, and ..... Ah forget it. Alex, you're creepy anyway."

Those things have all been yelled as I write this post. {I should note that we DVR the new Jeopardy every night, and this particular episode is from November 23rd. 2012. I just watched a JCPenney commercial about their Black Friday deals on orthopedic shoes. For real, it's like they know my life.} 

I guess it's also almost time I yell for my nightly Mylanta, because I'm obviously 23 going on dinnertime-at-4:30-p.m.

But I'm now also old in that we bought a new blender Sunday night and I may have actually skipped-to-my-lou as we left Bed Bath & Beyond.

Y'all, this pretty is now a tenant in my house.

So is the guy who gave me the dozen red roses back there.
For no reason besides that he's wonderful. 

I mean, I've gotta have something to blend up my beverage for Prune Juice Pong, right?

Last year, within months of each other, both our blender and our food processor got too drunk on veggies and permanently passed out. 

Stank motor. 

Weird noises.

Blades I was worried were gonna fly off and Judy-chop Holly's nubbins.

It's her best feature, really.  So she hides in my closet to protect it.

But when you're a health fanatic and addicted to pesto like we are, you can't go very long without a working ninjy-choppin' appliance. So we bit the bullet nunchuck and finally invested in one of these Diamond Daves, and I already couldn't be happier.

If you've had a bad experience with a Ninja blender, don't be an asshole and rain on my parade by telling me. Just let me enjoy this moment of pure blended bliss.

Oh hey cray hair day.

The single-serve cup alone blended a clusterfuck of fruits and ice cubes right before my eyes in 4 seconds flat. I actually counted.

It even has a dough setting. 

IT EVEN HAS A DOUGH SETTING.

After the Failed Cookie Recipe of 2012, I'm quite sure this nugget has reinstated my faith in life.

Also, this baby is exactly 2 horsepower, which I'm assuming is like Black Beauty: The Early Years, which I'm assuming means it's mane-blowing-in-the-breeze fabulous, which I'm assuming means I'm allowed to do Pantene-like twirls and model poses as I use it.

So basically, I'm having a love affair with a blender/food processor/dough-mixing-phenom. And Glenn isn't even mad about it, which is so sweet of him. His only comment so far was on the noise of the thing, which is about a HIGH out of 10. Last night when I made a baby smoothie, he yelled,

"Alexa, I told you not to use the chainsaw in the house!!!"

So, there's that. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm about to go throw an entire watermelon in this thing and see what it can do. 

P.S. ~ I just found out National Margarita Day is February 22nd. Just so happens that's a Friday and just so happens I was already planning Bachelor-style all-day date with my pillow the next day.  This purchase is become more serendipitous by the minute.
Ninjita, out.