Or, seriously where has this video been all these years?
Because every time I would try to talk to people about this song they would look at me like I was crazy. Maybe because I usually started the story “Okay, back in the early 1990s while I was in the mental hospital I heard this awesome song about Jheri curls and nobody else remembers it! Do you know what I’m talking about? Leave…leave…leave my curls alone? No?”
So, for ages I didn’t think about this song and began to think that perhaps I did imagine it after all but tonight, as I was taking my procrastinator’s shower, I was like dang, before I can write another word, I need to find this song. And I looked and whoomp there it was and then I realized I hadn’t frittered away nearly enough time so – and this is precisely the reason I have a blog – it became necessary to write this post and share it with you all.
Because after all, isn’t that what we all really want way down inside? For everyone to just step off and leave…leave…leave our curls alone.
Heck yeah.
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Or, When did Kraft Food & Family buy Betty Crocker?
Dear Ms. Crocker and Friends,
When you send me an email promising “easy Irish dinners” and “easy Irish recipes you don’t need luck for”, I don’t expect this to be included:
Okay, so I’m not going into the whole “it’s not Shepherd’s pie if it’s not made with lamb, if it’s made with beef it’s cottage pie!” thing because I think we can both agree that it’s a bit precious to be so persnickety about such things. I mean, I put McNuggets into sushi so I’m certainly not one to be a slave to conventional recipes. In fact I think that it’s a super idea to mash up ingredients from different cultures and create awesome, amazing things like Nacho Cheese Doritos and French Onion Ruffles.
However, and this is the difference between honest, heart of the dadgum nation Americans like me, with good old fashioned values, and media-elites like you, Betty Crocker, when I stuck that McNugget into the rice and wrapped it in Nori, I never tried to fool anyone that it was anything other than what it was. I never said it was Japanese.
Never. Said. It was Japanese.
Yet you, two days before St. Patrick’s day and on Irish Mother’s Day to boot, claim that your Shepherd’s Pie which is made with:
Barbecue sauce
Mexicorn (MEXICORN!?!?)
One of those little cans of green chiles that aren’t even hot that my dad used to put on my nachos until I finally told him what time it was and that he needed to get some real jalapenos up in here.
Instant “cheddar” and “bacon” mashed “potatoes”
and one freaking CUP of CORN CHIPS
Is an easy Irish recipe! I mean maybe it is good, you know in that way that concoctions made of various convenience foods combined into a casserole, topped with cheese and baked are “good” but not really “good”, but how the hell are you going to say it’s Irish, Betty Crocker?
Honestly, and I’m not trying to start something here, but I have a sneaking suspicion that this is just your recipe for Mexican lasagna minus noodles plus potatoes.
I do not know how you can sleep at night trying to pass off this lie of a Shepherd’s Pie off to the American public, very few of which claim any Irish heritage or knowledge of Irish culture and thus wouldn’t know any better, as a “dinner for St. Patrick’s day”.
Or, I have changed my mind for the 900th time about what it is I really want to do
photo credit: Stitch
Since family tragedies are, among other things, very expensive and I can’t spend the mortgage money to buy that new camera I’ve been wanting and I’ve been saying I’m going to start doing something productive with my time for the last three years, I am pleased to announce that I’ve started writing for other people in exchange for money. Which is cool and all but through random conversations with online friends I’ve realized that professional writing is not really what I want to do. It’s a pretty sweet gig in that it doesn’t involve a paper hat or finger condoms, but people can be so picky about trifling details like grammar and spelling and staying on topic and articles being in the form of words arranged in paragraphs and not a collage embellished with glitter and faux fur.
It’s a lot of pressure.
Then, the other day, my friend JD from I Do Things was talking about donuts on Facebook which got me to thinking about donuts and how much I like to go to the donut shop and it hits me, a really super awesome job for me would be to work at a donut shop. I don’t want to own a donut shop, mind you, I’m imagining it’s a pretty low margin business and you get a lot of huge orders from Churches and such and people expect free donations all the time for their blood drives and whatnot and while I certainly wouldn’t mind making a few when the mood hits me, I am not really about the physical labor of actually making more than 3 donuts at a time nor do I want to work the cash register because they don’t have the high tech ones like at McDonald’s and I don’t do retro like some dang hipster.
(okay that sentence went on for too long and I couldn’t figure out how to get out of it, that’s the kind of thing clients crucify you for in the writing business which is one of the reasons I’m trying to get out. I mean, if they wanted some sort of robot, why not hire a robot? I’m a person, it gets messy with me, that’s part of my beauty.)
What I really want to do is be the person that asks what kind of donut(s) or bear claws or fritters the customers want and give them to them. Well, ideally I’d have some sort of miniature assistant who I could relay the orders to so I wouldn’t have to bend down so much – I am very tall and have a delicate spine – but like I said, low margin business and I am Asian and a hard worker so I’ll make do. The reason I want to do this is so I can figure out a unified theory of donut personalities and use that to write a best selling self help book based on your donut personality and what sort of work would best suit one and ideal romance/friendship combinations, that sort of thing. Oh, and a diet plan, like working with your donut personality to design an eating program that will work for lifebecause you’re working with your natural inclinations, not against them. For example, people who like jelly donuts should eat a lot of fruit as most filled donuts have some sort of fruit in them.
And by write the book, I mean pay somebody like me to write it for me because I’ve discovered people totally do that. I could just drop off my pile of collages and furious scribbling and glitter art and voila! They turn it into a book for me and I get to go on a whirlwind book tour and I don’t have to take my kids!
So that is what I’ll be busy trying to put together in the coming weeks. If you know somebody who has a donut shop and is looking for help or wants a keyword-rich multi-media collage optimized for SEO, feel free to give them my contact details.
Or, peanutty goodness was big back then. That and quaaludes.
1970s Candy Gift Box
This is going to be one of those posts were I just put up a lot of pictures and don’t talk too much, as my husband brought me back a couple of boxes of Feminax which I sorely needed today. And which I have just now found out have been discontinued when I went to find a descriptive link so I really won’t be able to write as I’m trying to figure out what the heck I’ll do in 2012 when my current supply runs out. Menopause maybe? We can only hope.
In case you missed it, several good friends sent me this huge box of 1970s candy to cheer me up. I’ve been working my way through it and posting photos because the best part about candy is showing off how much you have to people who haven’t got any.
Today, I realized I’d better go on and finish all of the chocolates before they went bad. I’m happy to report that none of the bars I sampled today tasted off, rancid or stale. I didn’t care for any of them but I wonder if that has anything to do with having more grown up taste buds and being totally spoiled by my in laws sending me boxes of Leonidas. As much as people say we eat crap today, I think that compared to what I remember eating back then, we eat like freaking gourmet kings and queens of Freshandnaturalturia these days. [click to continue…]
Or, crap I realized I haven’t posted in a week, maybe more. Dang.
So, yeah, I’m still completely overwhelmed here and by the time evening comes around I’m so exhausted from the day that all I can do is collapse. I remember being a teenager reading a biography of Sylvia Plath and her writing to somebody and saying that after sunset all she was good for was brandy and the fire and the writing just wasn’t going to happen. Not that I’m comparing my grody food blogging to one of the greatest confessional poets, but we are a lot alike, I think.
I posted this video on my fan page and then realized, hey you know, this video is a good way to find out what makes people tick, I should send it to everyone I know! But I think they are all filtering me now, so I’m just going to post it here and see if anyone has something to say. Or nothing, because your silence, it says so much.
BTW, those people in the audience, in that moment they are awesome and I feel much love for all of them. How could they not be with Sweet Caroline and glow sticks?
