Saturday, February 19, 2011
Thursday, June 3, 2010
Milking the Cow
One day I will look back and wonder what the hell I was thinking to post this video.
Friday, January 30, 2009
Is this wrong? Or oh so right?
Equal Rights for All Fruits!
For My Personal Alabaman
Is it wrong to use a beautiful, fresh organic pineapple to make a pineapple casserole, such as was dictated to me by My Personal Alabaman, Mary Beth? Or is it the perfect dharma for this ignoble, retarded-on-the-outside looking fruit? Is it better to be canned, if you were a pineapple, if you were ultimately meant to be casseroled?
Perhaps we need to look deeper. Do fruit casseroles and jello salads (I use this term loosely) belong to some sort of fruity caste system? My friends, I think we both know, they do. Ohhh, cruel fate! Where is our Pineapple Guide? Well, hold on to your Ritz. I believe we can all sleep soundly tonight knowing that we have Mary Beth, whom I hereby nominate for Miss Alabaman Who Knows A Thing Or Two About Pineapple. Go, MB!
This quasi-religious experience from the South can be found all over the net, but lucky for us, MB called me and told me, and now, I'm telling you.
Pineapple Casserole, by way of Mary Beth's Grandma, or Maybe It Was Her Mom
Coupla cans pineapple, crushed, or fresh, if you are brazen. About 20 oz. worth.
5T flour
1/2 C. sugar
1 C. grated sharp cheddar cheese
1-1.5 tubes Ritz Crackers
1 stick butter (Hello, it's from the South!)
Sift flour, sugar together, blend with cheese. (eiew, I know).
Drain pineapple, grease 2QT casserole dish. Put pineapple in bottom of pan. Sprinkle flour stuff on top. Cover with crushed crackers. Melt butter, pour all over it. Bake at 350 for about 30 mins.
Now that's cooking with gaaaaaaaas!
For My Personal Alabaman
Is it wrong to use a beautiful, fresh organic pineapple to make a pineapple casserole, such as was dictated to me by My Personal Alabaman, Mary Beth? Or is it the perfect dharma for this ignoble, retarded-on-the-outside looking fruit? Is it better to be canned, if you were a pineapple, if you were ultimately meant to be casseroled?
Perhaps we need to look deeper. Do fruit casseroles and jello salads (I use this term loosely) belong to some sort of fruity caste system? My friends, I think we both know, they do. Ohhh, cruel fate! Where is our Pineapple Guide? Well, hold on to your Ritz. I believe we can all sleep soundly tonight knowing that we have Mary Beth, whom I hereby nominate for Miss Alabaman Who Knows A Thing Or Two About Pineapple. Go, MB!
This quasi-religious experience from the South can be found all over the net, but lucky for us, MB called me and told me, and now, I'm telling you.
Pineapple Casserole, by way of Mary Beth's Grandma, or Maybe It Was Her Mom
Coupla cans pineapple, crushed, or fresh, if you are brazen. About 20 oz. worth.
5T flour
1/2 C. sugar
1 C. grated sharp cheddar cheese
1-1.5 tubes Ritz Crackers
1 stick butter (Hello, it's from the South!)
Sift flour, sugar together, blend with cheese. (eiew, I know).
Drain pineapple, grease 2QT casserole dish. Put pineapple in bottom of pan. Sprinkle flour stuff on top. Cover with crushed crackers. Melt butter, pour all over it. Bake at 350 for about 30 mins.
Now that's cooking with gaaaaaaaas!
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
To Z... on The Project for Development of Alcohol-Liking
Tonight I decided to get drunk, or at the very least, to drink *something*. So, I found an airplane bottle of Cognac, one of those freebies you get on a long flight - half empty from some previous attempt to drink it.
Feeling so adultish - I'm here, drinking cognac, no one can tell me not to, etc. - I pour it into an airplane glass (borrowed!!), the kind you receive "filled" with a .0004/cup's worth of orange juice on a morning flight going to somewhere you kinda, at that point in the flight, wish you weren't. Beentsy cup notwithstanding, I sit down with my tea and toast and pug, and began my private evening commitment: Tonight, We (the royal) Will *Have* a Drink. There is only .0000000078 of a 'glass' worth of the stuff, so how hard can that be, right?
Two teensy swallows later, the word 'eiew' comes to mind.
Long and short, I'm in my pajamas with the tea gone and the pug licking a bone, it's almost midnight, and the cognac is still sitting there; it is mocking my attempt at alcoholism. I can see right now I have to enjoy drinking more in order to foster that enviable membership in Alcoholics Anonymous. Or maybe someday they'll make alcohol tablets, so one doesn't even have to drink to get falling down, blind-drunk!
Now THAT would be progress.
Feeling so adultish - I'm here, drinking cognac, no one can tell me not to, etc. - I pour it into an airplane glass (borrowed!!), the kind you receive "filled" with a .0004/cup's worth of orange juice on a morning flight going to somewhere you kinda, at that point in the flight, wish you weren't. Beentsy cup notwithstanding, I sit down with my tea and toast and pug, and began my private evening commitment: Tonight, We (the royal) Will *Have* a Drink. There is only .0000000078 of a 'glass' worth of the stuff, so how hard can that be, right?
Two teensy swallows later, the word 'eiew' comes to mind.
Long and short, I'm in my pajamas with the tea gone and the pug licking a bone, it's almost midnight, and the cognac is still sitting there; it is mocking my attempt at alcoholism. I can see right now I have to enjoy drinking more in order to foster that enviable membership in Alcoholics Anonymous. Or maybe someday they'll make alcohol tablets, so one doesn't even have to drink to get falling down, blind-drunk!
Now THAT would be progress.
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
TST: The True Marker of True Adulthood (and why it's not what we think)
At first it seems the markers for adulthood are obvious. First, one must have one's own toys... then bra, then more toys, then sex, then one's own room. Sure, dear reader, maybe that's putting the sex before the cart... but you didn't grow up in my family. Unless you did. And then you know what I mean.
Anyway, eventually one gets one's own drink! Then car, then apartment, where can have sex whenever one wants. Now, it seems, adulthood has made a true appearance - anywhere one wants to go, do anything one wants to do, drinky drinky, stay up late, tra lalala, doing with/to whomever one wants to do one's very own things one wants to do! Yes, yes!
But soon (last night) one realizes it is not this, is none of these "this's". These are not what make one An Adult.
The real moment comes when one has new, spare toothbrushes for Guests.
This requires amazing foresight and self-certainty, namely:
1) Certainty that one actually has friends
2) Friends must verifiably no MIND spending a whole night away from their own room/sex/car/apartment;
3) The foresight to be able to predict an as-yet unidentified friend will someday stay.
4) Long-term memory to remember this at the store
5) Disposable income to purchase such a luxury
This luxury entirely depends on the confidence that one has created one's own room, apartment, and friends, and for this, one must be prepared to provide them with what they need too - a fresh clean toothbrush.
This is an inevitable slide toward Grand Adulthood, which is only occasionally represented by this special marker: TST (The Spare Toothbrush).
Anyway, eventually one gets one's own drink! Then car, then apartment, where can have sex whenever one wants. Now, it seems, adulthood has made a true appearance - anywhere one wants to go, do anything one wants to do, drinky drinky, stay up late, tra lalala, doing with/to whomever one wants to do one's very own things one wants to do! Yes, yes!
But soon (last night) one realizes it is not this, is none of these "this's". These are not what make one An Adult.
The real moment comes when one has new, spare toothbrushes for Guests.
This requires amazing foresight and self-certainty, namely:
1) Certainty that one actually has friends
2) Friends must verifiably no MIND spending a whole night away from their own room/sex/car/apartment;
3) The foresight to be able to predict an as-yet unidentified friend will someday stay.
4) Long-term memory to remember this at the store
5) Disposable income to purchase such a luxury
This luxury entirely depends on the confidence that one has created one's own room, apartment, and friends, and for this, one must be prepared to provide them with what they need too - a fresh clean toothbrush.
This is an inevitable slide toward Grand Adulthood, which is only occasionally represented by this special marker: TST (The Spare Toothbrush).
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
Name The Va-Jay-Jay!
Friends One and All,
This is your chance! Anjani needs to name The Girl, da Va-Geena, Va-Jay-Jay. Sure, it's important, but why now, you ask?
Why at ALL, I say!!
Look, a person (with a va-jay-jay) gets to a point in her life where she is on the phone with Mary Beth and they are talking about vaginas and she suddenly realizes, "Holy snappin duck shit! The Girl's got no freakin NAME down there!"
So, turning to my friends, I implore you: what's the name??
I will buy a free coffee for the winner. And then I will drink it.
-Anjani
This is your chance! Anjani needs to name The Girl, da Va-Geena, Va-Jay-Jay. Sure, it's important, but why now, you ask?
Why at ALL, I say!!
Look, a person (with a va-jay-jay) gets to a point in her life where she is on the phone with Mary Beth and they are talking about vaginas and she suddenly realizes, "Holy snappin duck shit! The Girl's got no freakin NAME down there!"
So, turning to my friends, I implore you: what's the name??
I will buy a free coffee for the winner. And then I will drink it.
-Anjani
PS - here is a Vagina Couch.*
(*Previously Posted on San Fran Craigslist)
Monday, November 3, 2008
On Keys and Trust
THE DEAL: If some miracle were to occur such that humans were to unequivocally trust all others forevermore, the sad truth is that this event would prove to be a calamity for key-makers worldwide. Car doors, front doors, bike locks, office keys, hotel card keys, passwords... all of these things are based entirely upon our lack of trust of one another as a species. (I wonder what all the key businesses make per year, put together?) Locksmiths, too, they would be out of luck. Electronic lock monitoring companies? Poof!
THE GRAND THEORY THEN: Naturally, it's obvious that these people ARE the Illuminati. They spread distrust around the world so that Monday morning, they can have the pleasure of returning to the corner drug store to make us, what? MORE KEYS.
THE SAGE ADVICE: Next time you might think twice about the guy in the swanky red vest who is oh-so-eager to make you those new keys because you lost yours on the coast in a drunken weekend playing Strip "Go-Fish" like I did when I was 8. Well, I played the game, and I wasn't on the coast, and I didn't own any keys yet, so I didn't lose them, and I was drinking milk. But you get my drift.
-Anjani
PS: I just realized that, of course, why didn't I see it before, those last two syllables in Illuminati: let's sound it out together.... "naugh....TY!"
THE GRAND THEORY THEN: Naturally, it's obvious that these people ARE the Illuminati. They spread distrust around the world so that Monday morning, they can have the pleasure of returning to the corner drug store to make us, what? MORE KEYS.
THE SAGE ADVICE: Next time you might think twice about the guy in the swanky red vest who is oh-so-eager to make you those new keys because you lost yours on the coast in a drunken weekend playing Strip "Go-Fish" like I did when I was 8. Well, I played the game, and I wasn't on the coast, and I didn't own any keys yet, so I didn't lose them, and I was drinking milk. But you get my drift.
-Anjani
PS: I just realized that, of course, why didn't I see it before, those last two syllables in Illuminati: let's sound it out together.... "naugh....TY!"
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