Tag Archives: Food

The Bookwhore in the Kitchen With the Wad of Dough


One of the things I am proud of in my life is that I have always made my own money, and I have never been unemployed. I suppose technically, since I am a Pizza Slut, I’m not unemployed, but until Frenchy Christophe gives me more hours, I am stuck with much more time on my hands. This in a way is a good thing, because I have more time to write, which was always my excuse for NOT doing so before, but at the same time, I must point out that I have a very short attention span, so I tend to bound from one activity to the next, as evidenced by my recently watched list on Netflix Live. (I started watching 5 movies yesterday and didn’t finish one of them). Also, my need to feel useful and not like a slacker has found me this day in the kitchen, attempting to bake bread.

I have mentioned my lack of expertise in the kitchen on several occassions, however, it has seemed that my baking skills have been improving, albeit at quite an unhurried pace. I no longer find myself crouching in front of a heated oven wondering if I should stick my head in it when my caramel rolls resemble something leaking from a head gash in the latest John Carpenter movie, nor recently have I cracked up into an explosive spasm of tears when my Rockstar tells me my breadsticks would taste better sans the blackened crust. (It’s happened) That being said, my cooking still in no way brings to mind that bitch Betty Crocker, unless one refers to how very UN-LIKE her cooking my sustenence is.

I am stubborn, and I will not be shown up by a boodle of dough, even though I would be quite embarrassed if someone were to walk in right now and witness me screaming  into a bowl, “Rise! You Son of a Bitch! Rise!” I will NOT be undone.

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30


Happy Birthday to me! I suppose I am a little bit sad that I can no longer say that I’m in my 20’s. And in reflection, it is a tad disheartening how little I’ve accomplished in my 30 years. But let’s not dwell on that, shall we? I plan to have a perfect day, sitting on my ass and not doing anything while wearing my very beautiful prom dress and looking fabulous. I actually DID plan to start drinking at 9AM, as I have never done that before, but sadly, I have a job interview this afternoon. While I have no doubt my interviewer would be highly entertained by a drunken me, the chances of getting hired would be minimal, me thinks. As I was reflecting on  my very lengthy life, I thought of a few things. So here is a list of 30 things I’ve learned in my 30 years. I do not claim that this is great wisdom, but they ARE things that are kind of beneficial to know, all the same.

1.Smiling does NOT always make you feel better, but if you do it anyway, it may make someone ELSE feel better.

2.Getting married doesn’t magically make everything better.

3.Getting divorced doesn’t magically make everything better either, but sometimes it helps a little.

4.Jesus will always be there for you, but He doesn’t talk alot and He says no alot when you ask Him for stuff.

5.Peach Schnapps in water is the only alcoholic beverage one can drink in excessive quantities at accelerated rates that won’t make you hurl.

6. Great sex is NOT a good enough reason for two people to get married, but the lack of it in a marriage is detrimental.

7.Money won’t buy you happiness, but life’s a bitch when you don’t have any, and so is the IRS.

8.The more you read, the less stupid you are.

9.An awesome pair of heels will ALWAYS get you noticed by someone. Not necessarily the someone you wanted.

10.Sleep is the best pasttime- but also a complete WASTE of time.

11.Women are prettier naked than men.

12. “If you give a mouse a cookie, he’s probably going to want a glass of milk to go with it.” (Thank you, Laura Numeroff.)

13.It’s not worth it to be anorexic, because people will just say you’re too skinny, and you’ll miss out on French fries.

14.Always go when you see a bathroom, because you will never be sorry that you DIDN’T pee your pants.

15.Cooking on medium heat is safest, because when you burn it on high, it doesn’t take as long, but it doesn’t taste as good either.

16.I will always love grilled cheeses.

17.There will always be time to wash the dishes later, but if you wait that long, the job is much ickier.

18.Being a waitress sucks, but having to wait 2 weeks between paychecks sucks worse.

19.Over-dressed is better that under-dressed. Unless you are on a farm or camping.

20.There IS such a thing as love at first sight.

21.My hair will not fall out if I bleach and dye it 3 or 4 times within a week.

22.A cheater isn’t always a cheater.

23.Going commando is sometimes a necessity.

24. Men will not generally say no to a blow job.

25.Always say yes. (except for when someone offers you a concrete mixer or a stranger asks you to get in his car.)

26. Don’t forget to swing at the playgroung once in a while.

27.Taylor Swift’s lyrics may improve in time, but her voice won’t.

28.When a cop tries to pull you over for speeding, going faster isn’t a good idea, but it’s DAMN fun.

29. Alone Time is a good thing, just not ALL the time.

30.There is always time for hugs.

 

P.S. I had 31, but I put it in a p.s. so it doesn’t throw off my whole theme.

“When I keep my eyes open, I can read with much more speed. You have to be a speedy reader, ’cause there’s just so, so much to read!” (Dr. Seuss knows his stuff.)

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Chicken Strips Rule and Other Reasons Why


I decided to write this post when I found myself snarfing down left-over KFC at 5:30 this morning.

Why chicken strips rule: not only are they essentially the only food a restaraunt can’t screw up, the fact that you don’t have to check first to make sure you’re not going to take a giant bite of chicken fat makes them very appealing. And as I’m trying to pull chicken off the bone, I can’t help but start to think, “This used to have a head.”

Why I no longer care to go to the movie theatre: because people are assholes. I myself prefer to go to a movie during a matinee, so as to avoid the screaming masses. (which makes me even more upset that my theatre doesn’t have daytime showings during the school year.) So you can understand my utter dissatisfaction when I go into an empty theatre, find a spot where nobody usually likes to sit, and then have some ass-hat come and sit in the seat RIGHT behind me. In theatre with even only 100 seats, if there is only one other person sitting there, what possesses these people to sit so close? Are they feeling lonely? Are they sitting near in case they become frightened during the movie and wish to be consoled? (even though the movie is Mamma Mia) and I cannot tell you how many times I’ve wanted to turn around and shove that bag of candy that they’re rustling so far up their ass that it comes out their face. And being that open-mouthed eating is my biggest pet peeve (more on that another time), what a coincidence it is that these same inconsiderate jack-holes are chomping the noisiest thing to listen to being eaten, popcorn. Therefore, I stay home and pay for Netflix.

Why I adore duct tape and closets: when you live with a 9 year old who isn’t yours, corporal punishments such as spankings are not an option. This is where these 2 supplies come in handy.

Why I wear ridiculously tall heels to work: Until someone invites me to a ball, I must get use out of my 47 pairs of beauteous shoes. Also, they come in handy when trying to reach books on the top shelf. But I STILL would like to go to a ball…

Why Angelina is still on my top 5 list of gorgeous celebs: Yes, I admit, she is greatly over-rated, and a little too skinny nowadays, but anyone who adopts a bunch of kids from wherever and takes the time to help other people is beautiful in my book. Even if they DID do it for publicity. I knew about her BEFORE she was famous and I want to kiss those crazy-big lips, so there.

Why I believe state patrol officers should all be laid off:  I can honestly say I’ve never seen a state patrol officer doing something useful, such as catching bad guys- instead, they seem to think that I am the bad guy, and are dumb enough to think that I’m going to slow down if they give me a ticket. Of course, they are dumb enough to sometimes NOT give me tickets too, when I flash a bit of cleavage. Since our country and states are having a difficult time with their creditors (us taxpayers), wouldn’t it make sense to rid ourselves of these nuisances and give them jobs as real cops in big cities who are short handed?

Ok, I guess that’s it for now. Have a lovely day, I may post something later. XOXO

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Betty Crocker: a Tough Act to Follow


Good ole’ Saturday. A day to kick back, relax, start drinking at noon… or so it WOULD be if I didn’t have to be at work. Do you ever find it strange that the Bosses of the world- the ones who are supposed to be in charge of the workplaces- are the first individuals to be gone on a holiday weekend? And no, it does NOT make me feel better when my manager words it, “We will be away with our families.” Now, if my manager’s wife actually LIKED her hubby, I would say “Good for him”, and mean it. But since every minute I am with my boss is filled with his whiney voice telling me how badly he is neglected at home and how having 4 kids is so hard, I would say to him, “Dude! Work a fucking Saturday so I can hang with people who actually like me.” At least I just got to witness an altercation between a mall cop suffering from Short Man Syndrome and a Somalian.

Ay, me. So I tried to cook Italian last night. It was not completely disastrous, but neither did it have my Beloveds rushing back for seconds. Last week it was caramel cinnamon rolls, which surprisingly rose to the occasion. (HAHA)I sometimes get a recipe in my head that I simply must try, but most of the time, I pretty much despise cooking. This being because I’m not super-great at it, due to the fact that my private school hadn’t a home-ec class and the only thing my mother excelled at in front of the stove was frying home-made french fries without a deep-frier. (Yay you, Momma.) I spent the first decade of my life away from home not needing to know how to cook; I ate at work- the mom-n-pop restaraunt. So when I started dating my Rockstar and found he could make biscuits and gravy when I could hardly fry an egg, I was slightly embarrassed. Being the stubborn personthat I am, I said to myself, “Self! I can be just as good as Betty Crocker, and cuter too!” I would just like to point out- that bitch ain’t real! After numerous failed attempts at gourmet cooking, one of which included me chucking a gravy spoon at my boyfriend, I was ready to throw in the skillet.

But damn it! I realized I DO want to be an excellent cook. Perhaps it’s because when I think about it, I personally do not know one person my age who can cook well, from scratch. I shall be one of the elite few in the year 2061 who actually knows how to knead dough (while wearing 5 inch heels and glitter). As I have learned with sex, what makes a woman good in bed is passion. So I shall passionately persevere at stirring and mixing and sifting, and maybe after 20 or 30 tries, my breadsticks may actually be edible.

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