It has been a very long week already, but I figure everyone can always use a laugh.
Hope y’all have a great Tuesday :D
It has been a very long week already, but I figure everyone can always use a laugh.
Hope y’all have a great Tuesday :D
I love sugar. I really do. It’s not an argument about processed versus organic versus natural. I like sweet. Always have, and always will. And I especially enjoy it in chocolate or baked goods. And chocolatey baked goods. Ok, straight from the sugar bowl.
But there is now a Dark Side when it comes to ingesting the forbidden sweet late in the evening. I thought that when I ate cake while listening to Warren Zevon that it was a fluke. Seriously, who would ever dream of drinking at Trader Vic’s and annoying werewolves? Maybe some people, but not a whole lot. Late last night I had one Tim Tam™ cookie (biscuit, bickie, whatever they call it in Australia), and of course that set off probably my most ridiculous dream sequence ever, because it was about Johnny Manziel.
You see, Johnny needed an interior decorator, which I’m not. But his problem was that he wanted someone to decorate his room so that no one could disturb his pet monkey. And he hired me because I was the only Aggie with an Anthropology degree who could possibly understand life with a monkey. And I looked around, and between the large ping pong table and the poker table, there was a monkey sitting on a huge L-shaped couch, playing Super Mario Brothers on a Nintendo thing (I assume) while Johnny was explaining how he wants to give the monkey room, so while brandishing a hockey stick (I did say this makes no sense) he opens another door and shows me a huge ballroom area with tall windows and marble floors and I tell him it is best to keep the monkey in the smaller room and for Johnny to move his stuff in the ballroom, to which he replied, “That’s awesome!! When can you do it??” And I kept telling him he needed a wrangler not an interior decorator and he asked what was the difference and before I could charge him some obscene amount of money, I woke up.
Aside the obvious weirdness of the whole scenario, I’m not even sure why Johnny would make an appearance in my subconscious. I’m more of the Jason Isaacs/ Bruce Willis/ Sean Bean school of thought, really. A dream with any or all of them would have been awesome. Can you imagine???
Maybe a dram or two before bed, and I just might :D
This weekend was full of surprises. I am not one who is fond of surprises, bad or good. But it’s an observation that the bad ones happen without consent, and the good ones always require planning.
In the years I have lived in Texas, the A/C unit has gone out a few times. And it is a solid observation that it always goes out during the weekend, when A/C repair is not available.
Iced tea comes with both sugar and ice. Though unsweetened is no hardship to order, it is an observation that you will be looked upon suspiciously by the server if you ask for no ice.
Country roads are narrow. Though usually two-lane roads, it’s an observation that it’s just a wide one lane road. One can drive down the middle, as long as A) you scoot back to you lane with oncoming traffic, and 2) wave as they pass you by. The latter is mandatory.
Wildflowers are abundant and pesky, in a charming way. It is an observation that a lady will always appreciate any flower picked for her over one bought randomly. It takes guts to go out and pick out flowers on the side of the highway instead of ordering them by phone. All Southern ladies know this. However, all will appreciate any and ALL flowers anyway.
Football is a big deal in the South. It is an observation that we will talk trash with each other over our teams, and in the same breath defend them to those outside of our state who know NOTHING about football etiquette. We can trash our own state teams, but it’s always State over Team*, any day.
Anyway, time for me to get going. It is an observation that my presence is required early in the kitchen on days ending in “Y”. That’s not a Southern thing. That’s a regular thing :)
*Except for t.u. That’s my exception and I’m sticking to it.
Well, best way to enjoy it outside of admiring it from afar, like in a photograph,while on vacation in Fiji.
My sister Reno Queen posted a delicious cocktail recipe on the social-site-with-faces last week that had me drooling. Being raised in Puerto Rico, I have a deep love and respect for the humble coconut, so I am overjoyed to post her contribution to my Pinterest Mixology board.
Put all ingredients save the shredded coconut in a blender, and blend until smooth. Pour into a cocktail glass (martini as shown is pretty) and garnish with some shredded coconut flakes. You can also rim the glass with the flakes but it can be overkill, not to mention a bit messy.
You can try this on the rocks instead and call it a K-12. Just don’t forget the TWO DOLLARS.
Sometimes I amaze myself ;)
As some of y’all know, Eldest is serving in the US Navy. One of the things I had to get used to was dealing with the fact that she is an adult and I have no control over her wants for a tattoo. I admit it is…. difficult to untie the apron strings, and I have managed to do so. For the most part. Oh, like *I* am the only parent who has ever gone through this???
Yeah, I thought so.
Anyway, blogger friend XBradTC has a post about a Russian nuclear sub catching fire. The first thought to pop into my head was Red October. And then my friend Mark commented about reminding him of the movie Hostile Waters. And that brought to mind a survey done by USAA long ago about the best submarine movies of all time. I have told y’all how my mind wanders from one thought to another on skewed lines. This isn’t news. And I began to recall my favorites.
Das Boot is by far my favorite. I fell in love with Jurgen Prochnow watching his portrayal of Capt. Willenbrock (not his name in the movie but the real life character on which it’s based) dealing with the immense claustrophobic conditions and the grittiness contained in that sardine can. He broke my heart in Beverly Hills Cop II but I soon forgave him. The movie gave us a slice of that unforgiving life served raw and rotted. And the look on his face as he dies in the air attack has never been equaled.
In not-too-distant second place it’s Gray Lady Down.
Two words: Charlton Heston.
Sure, you have Stacy Keach and Keith Carradine and even Christopher Reeve. But none of them come close to Heston. NONE!! As captain of the “Gray Lady” he balances hope against certain death masterfully. And Carradine’s act of ultimate sacrifice makes me cry every single time.
I think the first submarine movie I ever watched was my third place contender, The Enemy Below. It was dubbed in Spanish, and let me tell you, the guy who dubbed Robert Mitchum’s voice didn’t even come close to doing him justice. Technically, the submarine was not the protagonist in this movie. But the cat-and-mouse plot between Capt. Murrell and Capt. Von Stolberg brings you to the edge of your seat, and you can’t help but admire the German’s brilliance.
Tied for third place is the film that got me thinking about all of this in the first place. The Hunt for Red October had everything you could want in a movie: mystery, subterfuge, action, drama, humor, frivolity, major eye candy (don’t judge me), and even a touch of romance. Oh, not the “chick flick” type of romance, but rather romance in the simplicity of Capt. Borodin’s wishes to live in Montana. Respect for each other is definitely earned by all of the characters as the leadership of the Russian sub lies to its crew in its fight for survival on both sides of the ocean.
Last but not least, I have to say the “guilty pleasure” addition to my list is Down Periscope. Though the entire scenario requires a complete and thorough suspension of disbelief, it’s still manages to instill good lessons in raising morale and dealing with the worst hand ever dealt. Kelsey Grammer’s portrayal of Commander Dodge is beyond hilarious, from deadpan to outrage to outrageous. Forcing the XO to walk the plank was hilarious. Christening the Stingray as the U.S.S. Rustoleum was genius.
Well, now I am feeling nostalgic. I may dig up my VHS copy of Red October from the bins upstairs. Yes, I still have VHS, and that cassette is rather special, since it’s red instead of the conventional black. Besides, one can never have too much of Sean Connery ;)
Last week, I was in a cooking frenzy. I have no idea what overcame me, but my family was quite happy about it. As with every new endeavor, I ended up purchasing some herbs in greater quantities than I needed. Waste not, right? But there was only so much cooking I could do. Well, at least until I needed a break from it. The sage was easy to preserve, but thyme is tricky. But I found a way. Oh yes, I did!
* Instead of making simple syrup from scratch, “cheat” and buy simple syrup and warm it up with the thyme sprigs until fragrant, about 2 cups of syrup and four sprigs of thyme. Rebottle what you don’t use but discard the sprigs.
For the sour, combine the bourbon, juice, and the syrup in an ice-filled shaker, and shake well. Strain over ice into a old fashioned glass, and garnish with the lemon and thyme. Mmm, mmm gooood.
If ain’t nobody got thyme for that, just fix without. ;)
I’m sure I’m not the only one that is constantly attacked by a random, aimless thought, right?
I’m sure the age old question of why hot dogs come in packages of ten whereas hot dog buns come in packages of eight has been answered. I doubt it was answered to my satisfaction, but at least there is an answer.
Still, some things just mystify me. For example, my friend Car in made an observation over at the social-site-with-faces about the penchant for some celebrities to name their children in rather odd ways. So far I am aware of one child named after a fruit, one named after a plant, and one named after a compass. I don’t wish to know any more. Celebs: Y’all are already famous. Why must you burden your progeny like this?
Also, am I the only person who thinks Guy Fiery looks like a Troll Doll?
Seriously, the guy (rimshot) can market himself as a Troll Doll with tattoos and spiky white/platinum/ silver hair and make himself a fortune. I would totally buy one.
I wish dandelions were considered an ornamental by my HOA instead of a weed that must be eradicated with extreme prejudice and Round-Up™. Or at least classify it as a food. You can make a salad AND you can make wine from dandelions. That is worth its weight in rubies alone.
Anyway, time for me to skedaddle and finish making dessert for tomorrow. Chocolate mousse is on the cards, and hopefully there will be a bit left over for Easter morning pre-breakfast celebration :D
This past weekend I was lucky to host my brother and his lovely fiancée, along with Bradie the dog. She is my brother’s dog, but his fiancée is her human. Y’all know how it goes. Just as Lenny is Eldest’s dog, but I am her human. I think that is the most endearing quality of a canine. They claim a person as their own and there is NOTHING you can do to influence them out of it.
The same can be said about some people and fantasy football, but I digress.
Anyway, what made it interesting was the fact that they look so much alike we could barely tell which dog was which, unless they faced us. Lenny has a white patch on her chest, whereas Bradie is solid black. The dogs had a great time going after each other as alphas are wont to do, but their humans were not as pleased. And of course, getting confused as to which dog was which sometimes made them look at us like we were stupid, with head tilted and ear cocked for emphasis. All in all it was awesome, and now I understand what coveting really means.
I want that dog.
I want her with the burning power of a thousand Betelgeuses to seven orders of magnitude, times eleventy. And why do I want her? Because she is just like my Lenny. And you can NOT have too much of a good dog. You just can’t.
So be on notice, my brother. I will get your pretty dog, too :D
I am getting rather cantankerous in my old age. I don’t go to the movies often, not just because it is outrageously expensive but also because the movie plots tend to get me mad. It is difficult sitting there and keeping quiet when all you want to do is scream about how a monkey could have done a better job of writing this massive waste of celluloid. Or worse, how the whole plots could have been resolved in FIVE MINUTES!!!
For example, take The Lord of the Rings trilogy and The Hobbit trilogy. The first time I watched it it was all “Oooooh!!!” and “WOW!!!” and “ZOMG!!!”. But the second time all I could think about was how they could have just flown the eagles over the mountain and dropped the damn ring in there. I understand the concept of “allegory” but I also understand the concept of “logic”.
And then there’s Sleeping Beauty. Walt Disney loved to bring a fairy tale to life. Few people know he was actually involved in The Little Mermaid way back in the 1940’s. Dude was all about the “happily ever after”. But every time that movie comes on, all I can think about how all the angst could have been avoided if only they had sent an invitation to Maleficent!!! That’s it. She wouldn’t have even shown up anyway had she been invited.
And I don’t even have to explain my abhorrence for Fifty Shades of Grey. Or is it “Gray”? Sometimes English confuses me. But c’mon! A good looking guy tells you to sign a contract so he will own you and you have no rights whatsoever? Leaving the domestic abuse issue aside, the horrible writing, the impossibility of a 26 year old billionaire, and all the trappings, who would sign a contract to be treated like offal?
I should stop here. I know that Lent is having an effect on me. Ok, lack of chocolate is having this effect on me. Fine….FINE!!! Lack of wine, too. I have two weeks to go and miles before I am done. But I have patience, will, and time.
And a box of Peeps with my name on it :D