Hi my name is Valerie, I’m a pistachio addict and my life has become unmanageable.
My girl has to actually hide them behind the jars of curry sauce and cans of minced chicken so that I don’t inhale them and eventually turn into one. My partner’s a real keeper.
For kicks we watch HGTV House Hunters International because it’s cheaper than two plane tickets. We get excited when Netflix arrives with the latest DVD of Six Feet Under;
She and I make money by buying trash and “upcycling” it to treasures.
It’s becoming a real money maker; a regular “Sanford and Son” ‘cept it’s
“Girl and Girlfriend” and we get a thrill when we find a dresser for 5 bucks and sell it for 20,
or a pair of Banana Republic Jeans, slim-straightleg, for fifty cents and upcycle them to 4 bucks.
It’s added income and in today’s world, it’s an addition that equates eat out on Fridays…
This morning my partner was spray painting an aluminum patio table, which led to quite the hiccup.
Here’s Wen after a minor entanglement with a can of black spray paint:
At first I thought she was impersonating Brian Wilson, but no.
She was screaming for my assistance but all I could do was fumble around for my camera,
all the while laughing my ass off. Now I know that’s lacking big time in sensitivity, but the girl is always playing around and I thought this time was no different.
Here’s Wen teaching an alternative dive class; one that doesn’t incorporate the solid techniques and practices that have stood the test of time like putting your arms together above your head in an arrow formation, bend at the waist, dart smoothly forward and out into the water.
All traditional methods of instruction are thrown out the window for the simple
“F^&*!#@ -It- Just-Jump-In Approach:
Of course who could forget the 2011 Hula Hoop Competition:
…Or the talent show at the 4th Annual Women’s Weekend in Yosemite where my partner,
wearing mascara, lip gloss and cotton dress, entered alongside her “Been Making Memories Since the Eighties Pal” and the two played a mean badminton while singing I Love Rock-n-Roll because Wen couldn’t remember Joan Jett lyrics:
We’re quite a pair, she and I, especially when a camera is involved. The difference, and you will see it right away, is that I’m NOT joking around:
Ahh yes… remember them? Those bastards who have yet to substantially pay for the Deepwater Horizon oil spill that continually poured into the gulf for 3 months non-stop, uninterrupted by any of the national or international powers that be.
Yesiree, 3 months and it’s the spill that just keeps on giving…
thousands of fishermen and their families still out of work, thousands of animals and sea life dead or dying from the black gold and zero media coverage today. Zilch.
Where are NBC, ABC, CNN and dare I say FOX with a friendly update?
It takes cohones of steel to speak up to the big money testosteronites at BP.
It takes moral cohones to not kick a tax-paying gay man when he's down; a man who has been the sole caregiver to his partner of almost 20 years who’s battling AIDS...kick him out of the USA because their partnership isn’t recognized; though, the men married in Massachusetts 7 years ago.
This man has neither steel nor moral cohones:
I’ll drink to that and to this too:
Gopher Killing Machine Elston 400 - $1500 (Carmel Valley)
I love these kinds of ads on Craigslist. They keep me smiling and keep things in perspective. And I need it. Perspective. Here’s the machine in case you doubted its beauty:
In conclusion, I want to talk about Marie Antoinette. No special reason and definitely no flow, but hey, it’s a hodgepodge tonight. I must confess I have a weird, historical crush on her
and have for years. We know she's got a shaky reputation, but Marie had a point with the whole "Let them eat cake" idea. I mean, if someone was like, "You have a choice of this piece of bread or this piece of double-layer pumpkin cheesecake," what peasant in their right mind would choose the bread? Now, obviously I’m not saying that one could live on double-layer pumpkin cheesecake. You would need to balance it out. Maybe mix in some German chocolate cake, along with some caramel cream gateau, and possibly a lemon Bundt with raspberry rhubarb glaze and of course, pistachios. But you get the idea.
But truthfully, Marie didn’t say it. Well, not exactly. It’s mere rumor that Antoinette on the eve of the revolution upon hearing her people were starving and had no bread responded, "Let them eat cake!” The misunderstood issue is this:
“qu’ils mangent de la brioche” does not translate to “Let them eat cake,” but rather brioche is a type of sweet bun. Secondly, it wasn’t Marie but in fact, Maria Therese of Spain, wife of Louis XIV, who said it 100 years prior!
But who gives a damn at this point?
Don't viva la revolucion. Viva la cake!
And for Christ sake, hold steadfast to your moral cohones this week!
~tpg ;) wink