It appears

that a BROAST is happening at my house at the moment.

BROAST; a hipster invented compound noun.
Bro-roast.
Bros who roast.
Guys with skinny jeans sitting in the kitchen with vegetables, using cookie sheets as roasting trays and two legs of lamb which are being stuffed with herbs, that will probably dry out in the oven instead of cook, talking about macking on underaged girls. I'm not a self-proclaimed feminist, but at least I have dignity.

Me (returning from the market)- Dude, you know that beetroots take around three to four hours to cook...and those are huge.
Boy 1- Oh...well, we can microwave them.
Me- *facepalm*

I would take a photo, but I would also go for a run if it didn't just rain the entirety of the Seine on my head.

God help me.
Oh, and my knives! Oh, my knives! Enough to use exclamation marks for poignancy.

Here, watch a video of a NT pig eating grass instead.