Big Blue Ball

While sitting on my deck last evening, I noticed a very large blue ball had found its way into my back yard. One of those exercise balls, palates ball, yoga ball…what ever you want to call it. I saw it just as I was drawing on my American Spirit mulling over the possible suspects in the recent Hinge Screw case (see posting “For Guphy”).

Life is clicking along all ordinary and what not then suddenly for no apparent reason, odd things appear. You either ignore them or allow them to inform your thoughts. And if you are informed by life’s non sequitur, you could very well loose your mind. Like Jonathan Noel in the Patrick Suskind’s, “ The Pigeon”

What would you do if one day you open your apartment and blocking your path is one steely-eyed pigeon? Or a giant ball infiltrates the back yard, or some completely normal looking guy in a truck with his 7 year old son motions for you to role down your window while parked at a stop sign? Need directions? No, no he didn’t, he needed to make monkey sounds and Monty Python French Solider gestures.
Jonathan ripped his pants and panicked. I wrote a blog entry.

Not even cats

Every once in a great while, I like to push myself a little bit and try something just to see if I can do it. It's because of this idiotic tendency that I've done things like run a half marathon, play in a band, and marry my first husband.

So it's really no surprise that recently I decided to try to be vegetarian. After all, I've said for years that I could probably do it since I love veggies, get a little freaked out over chicken in general, and beef is too expensive. There's just one little thing--pork products.

I love all things pig. I love Easter ham. I love hot dogs, and no, I don't care if they're the all-beef kind, pig assholes taste just as good as beef assholes. My favorite thing to order at the taco bus on Rainier is the sweet, sweet carnitas (try them, they kick so much ass). But most of all, I love bacon. Oh sweet jeebus, do I love bacon.

But you know, I've discovered that for the most part, this all vegetarian thing isn't so bad. I'm managing to get lots of veggies that taste good while laying off the carbs, and while I'm skipping the cow, chicken, and pig, I'm still eating the little fishies. And on the side, I've been checking out the assortment of fake meat products that are currently available, thanks to all the hippies. Soyrizo is exactly what you'd think, a fake chorizo product, and it tastes pretty dang good. We've scrambled it with eggs and made a great black bean soup and our tastebuds were no worse for wear. Morningstar Farms makes some great fake meat too, everytime I have the breakfast sausage patties, I could almost swear I'm eating the real thing and their chicken nuggets ain't half bad either.

So as I'm sure you're all guessing, the problem is the bacon. There is no way to fake bacon in a convincing manner, I'm sure of it. But a friend recommended that I try the Smart Bacon bacon.
Did you click on the Smart Bacon link? Do you see the picture of the happy little pieces of bacon, curling up like a piglets tail on those [possibly fake] eggs? Smart Bacon (hereafter, "S.B.") does not look like this. SB is approximately the same shade as a piece of liver, and is perfectly flat.

But being an optimist, I went ahead and cooked the SB. You have two options in the preparation of SB: fry it up in a pan ('cuz I'm a wooooman, yes, yes) or pop it in the oven for 5 minutes at 450 after you've sprayed Pam all over it. Because I'm lazy, I went for the oven option. Reinforcing my optimism, it actually smelled like bacon cooking in there! Huzzah!

But no, SB is not bacon. SB remained flat and darkish red even after the cooking, and never got crispy in the oven. Do you know those pads of scratch paper you grandparents used to keep by the phone for messages? There was a gray piece of cardboard on the back for reinforcement, and when I put SB in my mouth this is the first thing I thought of. Gray cardboard that had been left in the rain, and then heated up in the sun before being put on my plate.

My boyfriend said it's exactly what he imagined dog treats would taste like, so I figured what the hell--let's give some to the cats. My cats are waaaay too smart for this. They looked at me like I was nuts, and left the kitchen.

Maybe the cats have it right. Fuck it, I'm getting carnitas for dinner tonight.

oh so poetic

The worries of tomorrow plague my frontal lobe. Or at least i think it is the frontal lobe. My expertise comes mostly from discovery, a channel of beta waves aimed directly at my visual cortex.

For Guphy

okay, this is some thing I've been meaning to bring up for a while....last month there was a Hot Roller's show at the Sunset in Ballard. i had a prefunk at my house complete with drinking of mango dacquaris, covhorting on the deck and corsette swapping. pretty normal all in all except that the morning after said soiree, this little cabinet I have above the commode in my bathroom developed a case of missing hinge screws....funny.

my friends are funny.

now i'm not saying that somebody did this on purpose. this cabinet, though i've had it for years and moved it multiple times and use at least weekly (it stores the extra roles of TP) could very well have NEVER had screws. the door may have stayed attached by sheer force of will. it's possible.

what i want to know...david, lisa and greg...is that while you were all alone at my house, did anyone notice Petie-cat using a screw driver in the bathroom?