With deep apologies to our blogger friend, Soylent Green.
Some days, it doesn’t pay to get on social media. the amount LOLs is only surpassed by the amount of WTFs. And as is its custom, the Church of the Perpetually Offended consistently crosses both streams.
Now, I live in Texas. I grew up in very, very South Texas were Mexican food was a staple, not a delicacy like up in Yankee areas. I remember kids almost rioting one day in school because Enchilada Day (usually on a Thursday) was replaced by Salisbury Steak.
We almost overthrew the school over cheese enchiladas, people.
In other words, Mexican food is no joke. It is LIFE. Some of y’all may not care for it, and that’s ok. But since when is celebrating ethnic food offensive?? The term itself, Maximum Mexican, celebrates not just the cuisine, but also the people of that country. I don’t know how many students were involved or if they were Hispanic or not. But how big of a fucking pussy do you have to be to take offense at this? Bigger question: WHY WOULD YOU THINK YOUR OPINION IS MORE IMPORTANT THAN THE REST OF THE STUDENT BODY’S? To put in perspective you perpetually offended assboils can understand: you have informed the entire world that you are unable to handle your feelings and must therefore deed that job to the rest of us. Well, I got news for you:
YOU DON’T HAVE A RIGHT TO BE OFFENDED.
But guess what? I DO have a right to refuse to cater to your fucking feelings if they intrude on MY rights. So in short, fuck you and your perpetual offense. Quit wasting your time in whatever “Studies” major you’re in and try living in the real world, where people don’t give a flying fuck about your feelings.
Better yet, come down to Texas and try to pull that stunt. Hispanic or not, you will be lucky to leave here with only ridicule heaped upon your worthless carcass, as you leave our state with your feelings between your legs.
I scream, you scream! We all scream for ice cream!!
So have some chocolate.
And some vanilla.
And finish off with some strawberry.
Hope y’all have a delicious day 😉
Last week’s offering made me nostalgic for the old days, when women wore gloves and dressed to travel and when men had a bar in the office. I was watching an old Columbo movie about a murderer whose alibi involves his lover dressed as his wife taking a flight, and all I could think of was “Holy cow!! Look at the space between the seats and the ashtrays and THEY ARE DRINKING COCKTAILS!!”
- 2 parts gin
- 1 part maraschino liqueur
- 1 part lemon juice
- ½ part violet liqueur
Pour ingredients into an ice-filled shaker and mix well. Strain into a coupe, and garnish with cherries if desired. The violet liqueur gives the drink the look of a clear sky.
Your head will be a bit fuzzy, though
Full disclosure: I’m a stay-at-home-mom who enjoys serving her hubby food and liquor. I usually cook while barefoot, as well. Yesterday, a NYT “Fashion” section article began to do the rounds on Twitter, and as a wife, mother, and just a plain ol’ woman, I have to put in my $5 (inflation) on the subject.
The title is 27 Ways to Be a Modern Man, written by Brian Lombardi. As far as I can tell, it’s not a nom de plume for a disgruntled wife. You’ll see what I mean in a moment. Mr. Lombardi makes a list of what a “modern man” does to support his masculinity. Some items on the list are given, such as #2 (never let’s others know his confidence is shot), #9 (a daughter teaches him new things all the time), and #19 (buys his wife flowers to surprise her). I can stand behind these, having witnessed them up close and personal from time to time. But most of the list?
#26–The modern man cries. He cries often.
Holy shit, dude. No he doesn’t. I’m not saying men don’t have emotional upheavals or are stoic to the point of being robotic. But men in general view certain happenings in a more orderly manner. He will cry when his kid is born, or if he breaks his leg, or at suffering a loss. But to say he will cry at the drop of a hat is not only silly but makes men look like they lack of control over a situation. Hubby never cried once when I had my accident. He held it together (see #2) because that is the thing to do when your wife is hysterical.
#25–The modern man has no use for a gun. He doesn’t own one, and he never will.
You know, living in Illinois will do that to people. I’m sure the homicide victims in Chicago would have something to say about this view. If they were alive, that is.
This week’s Girlie Drink is inspired by perennial favorite, Dita von Teese. I was inspired to post it because it’s so pretty, and I am all about pretty drinks.
- 1½ oz. Cointreau™
- ¾ oz. apple juice
- ½ oz. violet syrup (Like Monin™)
- ½ oz. lemon juice
Combine all ingredients in an ice-filled shaker and mix well. Pour into a coupe, and decorate with a violet flower. Of course, the photo shows a Johnny Jump-Up flower, but as long as it’s purple, right? You can also opt to rim the glass with ginger for a little kick.
And speaking of kick, here you go.
By now the world knows that Speaker of the House John Boehner is stepping down at the end of October.
The wonderful Ms. Attkinson being diplomatic, as always. We all know it was not to avoid a battle, but to avoid losing. Much cheering transpired from the right. But a few on the left were downright crestfallen over the news.
If by “radical conservatives” you mean “conservatives who want reps to do their jobs”, then yes. The heartbreak didn’t stop there, though.
It appears Planned Parenthood just lost a friend. At least they are mourning over something.
Senator Reid, not to be outdone in the heartbreak, espouses his belief that the current establishment leadership remotely resembled the Reagan one. But if you ever needed proof that our soon-to-be-former Speaker was a duplicitous, spineless, egotistical platyhelminthes, look no further than Teh Prez.
The only good thing Speaker Boehner ever did was support Israel. I can’t think of anything else, frankly. But hey, I’m a lady, and will raise a glass in remembrance of his tenure.
After all, bourbon goes well with Cheetos™.
She embiggens quite nicely, too. Have a great Hump Day 😉
Today’s offering is anything but girlie, seeing as it has no sweetness to it. Blog friend Tiberius always recommends that I add brandy or bourbon to warm milk to aid in sleep. Of course, he recommends I give it to the kids (insert rolling of eyes here). The drink does come with a story.
One of my favorite authors is Rob Kroese. I recently got addicted to his book series, The Land of Dis. If you enjoyed the sarcasm and punniness of Hitchhiker’s Guide, you would enjoy Kroese’s books. Anyway, one of the funniest parts in the beginning of the series has to do with sheep. Suicidal sheep. No, I’m not joking. The sheep have been bred to have such thick wool, that the itchiness drives them to suicide.
Y’all have got to read this book series. I can’t do it justice. This drink is in honor of sheep with suicidal tendencies.
Warm Woolly Sheep
- 1 part scotch
- 1½ parts Drambuie
- warm milk to taste
Stir together the first two ingredients in a glass, then add warm milk to your liking. I’m not a fan of milk, the aftertaste is bitter to me. But booze makes it a more palatable bitter, if you know what I mean.
Pleasant dreams 😉