Chicago -
You have 2 days.
Two days before I freak the fuck out on you.
Actually - what the hell am I talking about? Summer arrived today. I am becoming one of 'them'. The 'them' I swore I would not become.
It was shitastic out today. Pleasant through the afternoon and then it turned into a humid hell. All beginning of summer crappiness.
I was sweating as I walked about Ravenswood Manor...admiring houses I'd like to live in with my imaginary children and well paid imaginary husband.
Whatever - this is what I have to say to everyone is Chicago:
#1: Please make reference to my previous blog about spring
#2: It is a no win situation with you spoiled freaks. Yes - I am here to offend. And I was acting like one of 'you' two seconds ago. I admit it.
This is the thing: All any Chicagoan does is bitch bitch bitch bitch about the weather going from cold to directly to hot.
Congratulations - we ACTUALLY had a good two months of tolerable temperatures. Spring like...wouldn't you say?
Lots of rain? Yes.
April showers bring May flowers and what do May flowers bring? PILGRIMS!!!
I love that.
BUT - still it has been pretty easy on the temperature.
And what is everyone doing? RUSHING the SEASONS. Bitch bitch bitch - everyone wants summer.
You people can not be satisfied.
Had we jumped to 83 degrees on May 15th - bitching.
We stay in the 60s - 70s in May - bitching.
So here we are on June 18 doing the spring-summer transition. That humid horsecrap thing. It is coming a bit later than normal. Is it that big of a deal?
As my friend Megan said:
Talk to me in October...when it is 85 degrees.
Does anyone recall Halloween last year?
Let summer start in late June as it is supposed to. Because if that season lasts through October 31 - like it did last year: That is FOUR months of summer and that is plenty.
You will be so sick of summer and you are going to want a nice stew and a pumpkin spice latte. And and it will be too hot for it and what will you do? BITCH about it.
PLEASE - for the love - STOP COMPLAINING. and I will too!
So....turns out: I found my dream man:
Too bad he would have celebrated his 151st birthday this year.
Obviously he is dead.
He is Theodore Roosevelt.
The reason I may be single FOREVER? They don't make Theodore Roosevelts anymore.
Extinct this breed is.
I mean sure...there may be one or two in about a million running around, so hunting this down is a job and a half.
Let's go through some traits that T.R. has:
Educated, Harvard style: check
Intelligent: check
Wealthy Family: check
Clever: check
Fearless and Brave: check
Man's Man: check
Everyone that personally knows him, loves him: check
Beefy: check
I just described my perfect man. I can let up on the Harvard and wealthy family - obviously. When one dreams - dream big. But still. Are you going to find all these qualities today?
Hell no.
Do you think someone that went to Harvard would actually be brave enough to fight in war on horseback or lead an expedition down an unknown river in the Amazon?
HELL NO. Mommy and Daddy would not have it.
What happened to this era?
I'll tell ya: It went the way of the dodo bird along with fancy hats and appropriate dress.
What happened to men NOT only being brilliant but also being brave?
Today, you either get some smart dude that would hire someone to install a shelf or some tough guy that thinks higher education is a waste of time.
The species divided and I don't get why or how.
And hey - I will admit the ladies of the world aren't exactly pulling their weight on these renaissance ideas of mine. I just happen to NOT be that incompetent lady. So in my reality: The men have failed me.
I will need to look up some lineage. Meredyth Roosevelt sounds like a regal lady of good breeding. I shall settle for nothing less.
Unfortunately - in today's world I can only think of one family that breeds intelligence with the bravery of war and big game hunting: The Windsor Family.
Really...has the marriage of bravery and smarts become so nonexistent that it is only available in other lands when a crown is involved?
Those Windsor boys are not beefy enough for my taste. But surely they please others. Just the other day Wills called me and asked me for marriage and I said, and I quote "gain 50 lbs and we will talk. I don't know how many stones that is - but surely you can figure that"
For God's sake people!!! Save America! Save the world! Teach your girls to be intelligent and bake a cake. Teach your boys to hit the books and shoot a buck!
Let's get some balance...we can in fact, can be it all.
Stop fitting into a stereotype!!
Obviously he is dead.
He is Theodore Roosevelt.
The reason I may be single FOREVER? They don't make Theodore Roosevelts anymore.
Extinct this breed is.
I mean sure...there may be one or two in about a million running around, so hunting this down is a job and a half.
Let's go through some traits that T.R. has:
Educated, Harvard style: check
Intelligent: check
Wealthy Family: check
Clever: check
Fearless and Brave: check
Man's Man: check
Everyone that personally knows him, loves him: check
Beefy: check
I just described my perfect man. I can let up on the Harvard and wealthy family - obviously. When one dreams - dream big. But still. Are you going to find all these qualities today?
Hell no.
Do you think someone that went to Harvard would actually be brave enough to fight in war on horseback or lead an expedition down an unknown river in the Amazon?
HELL NO. Mommy and Daddy would not have it.
What happened to this era?
I'll tell ya: It went the way of the dodo bird along with fancy hats and appropriate dress.
What happened to men NOT only being brilliant but also being brave?
Today, you either get some smart dude that would hire someone to install a shelf or some tough guy that thinks higher education is a waste of time.
The species divided and I don't get why or how.
And hey - I will admit the ladies of the world aren't exactly pulling their weight on these renaissance ideas of mine. I just happen to NOT be that incompetent lady. So in my reality: The men have failed me.
I will need to look up some lineage. Meredyth Roosevelt sounds like a regal lady of good breeding. I shall settle for nothing less.
Unfortunately - in today's world I can only think of one family that breeds intelligence with the bravery of war and big game hunting: The Windsor Family.
Really...has the marriage of bravery and smarts become so nonexistent that it is only available in other lands when a crown is involved?
Those Windsor boys are not beefy enough for my taste. But surely they please others. Just the other day Wills called me and asked me for marriage and I said, and I quote "gain 50 lbs and we will talk. I don't know how many stones that is - but surely you can figure that"
For God's sake people!!! Save America! Save the world! Teach your girls to be intelligent and bake a cake. Teach your boys to hit the books and shoot a buck!
Let's get some balance...we can in fact, can be it all.
Stop fitting into a stereotype!!
Giant Baby
So - I admit it. I am a baby. I am afraid of stupid things. Like bugs, and heights, and any creature that takes flight.
In particular anything that flies.
I do not like birds or any insect of any kind but add the option of flight and that insect or bird is my worst enemy.
I do not agree with a creature having three dimensions of free movement when I really only have two.
I am afraid of butterflies.
Yes. Butterflies.
I realize the rest of the world looks at butterflies as harmless creatures that flit and flutter about in their beauty. I do not see that. I see an erratic, dirty moth in a beautiful ball gown. Moths are dirty. I am NOT fooled by the beauty and pretty colors of a butterfly. You remove their colors and pretty dress and they are just common, toothless, trailer park trash like their moth cousins. Don't fool yourself, my friends. They just want to fly about to get caught in my hair, much like a rabid bat.
So this weekend, I took a big step. I confronted the fear. A little immersion therapy.
The thing is - like all my fears - I get comfortable, somewhat after a while.
I met my friend at the Nature Museum where I would actually enter the butterfly habitat.
This was me whenever a butterfly fluttered near:
And really...can you blame me? Look at all of them in this small region waiting to take flight and attack:
yeah yeah yeah...I get it. They are pretty:
But really who are we to judge a book by its cover? Sure they are pretty - but you don't know what is going on in their minds.
Next stop: I am going to enter the bird house at the zoo and not cower like a freak and run out like a maniac...perhaps next weekend.
**Special thanks to: Hope for taking that fantastic photo and Meaghan for once saying "Moths are dirty" and for some reason that stuck with me.
In particular anything that flies.
I do not like birds or any insect of any kind but add the option of flight and that insect or bird is my worst enemy.
I do not agree with a creature having three dimensions of free movement when I really only have two.
I am afraid of butterflies.
Yes. Butterflies.
I realize the rest of the world looks at butterflies as harmless creatures that flit and flutter about in their beauty. I do not see that. I see an erratic, dirty moth in a beautiful ball gown. Moths are dirty. I am NOT fooled by the beauty and pretty colors of a butterfly. You remove their colors and pretty dress and they are just common, toothless, trailer park trash like their moth cousins. Don't fool yourself, my friends. They just want to fly about to get caught in my hair, much like a rabid bat.
So this weekend, I took a big step. I confronted the fear. A little immersion therapy.
The thing is - like all my fears - I get comfortable, somewhat after a while.
I met my friend at the Nature Museum where I would actually enter the butterfly habitat.
This was me whenever a butterfly fluttered near:
And really...can you blame me? Look at all of them in this small region waiting to take flight and attack:
yeah yeah yeah...I get it. They are pretty:
But really who are we to judge a book by its cover? Sure they are pretty - but you don't know what is going on in their minds.
Next stop: I am going to enter the bird house at the zoo and not cower like a freak and run out like a maniac...perhaps next weekend.
**Special thanks to: Hope for taking that fantastic photo and Meaghan for once saying "Moths are dirty" and for some reason that stuck with me.
It is time. It has been asked for. A new blog entry.
UGH! Would you believe, I can't come up with something to bitch about?
I'd like to blog about my crunchy knees...but who would that entertain?
I have decided I will speak of the weather because we are on the brink of Spring. February and March are the worst for us here in Chicago.
Spring in Chicago is your drug addicted mother on welfare that ditched out on the family years ago and comes for a visit every once in a while.
This year she stopped by on December 26th and dropped off some Christmas presents and then high tailed it out of there in 36 hours. I think she came by again once. She came back again for a day or two in January or February - I can't remember...but it was a weekend and a nice visit. She is here again for a day - maybe through the weekend - but she is unpredictable - it is her nature.
Then she makes an alleged commitment to you on March 20th, some say March 21st - but since my birthday is March 20 - I claim the rights to spring. She is bad at commitments so she pretty much comes and goes until May or June - depending on her mood and then your step-mom, Summer, kicks her ass out...till she randomly shows up again in winter, unannounced.
Changing Seasons:
I am not sure how I lived without this for 9 years. There is something about the promise of change that really makes one hopeful and giddy. The entire city morphs into a different place at each season. I dig it. It works for me because I think I have some form of ADD and I can't handle too much of one thing.
However - I will say Chicagoans are the biggest pussies sometimes. City of Big Shoulders, my ass.
I can often be found screaming at the evening news when the weather hits a brutal and unlivable temperature on the third day. Yes. I said THIRD day. I can predict it. It is day number 3 when the news stations hit the streets to get the public's opinion. As though it is something one can rally against. As, though we can organize a coup against the weather. Give it up and deal. You live in Chicago. Chicago. Chicago!
It is the midwest, my friends, and the we have that huge mass of water known as Lake Michigan that can make it or break it.
You can't leave the door without checking the weather. You never know what may happen. Spring is notorious for this crap...but still...it can happen at any time. When I first moved back here I did not have this in my routine. I went to work one day: It was 60 degrees outside. It was 30 degrees by 3 PM. I had my spring coat and that was all. My teeth chattered all the way home and I looked like an idiot.
"Didn't you listen to the weather" the co-workers said.
"I'm not use to that yet....I am from Arizona" I said sheepishly.
Another time it was clear skies. I was living in the suburbs at the time. When I took the train home....as we got deeper into the burbs I noted there ... was ... snow. No snow in the city....yet snow...in the burbs...just 5 miles out it started. At every stop there was another inch on the parked cars. Then...I got to my stop and 8 inches were on my car! WTF? Oh...this is that 'lake effect snow' / no snow thingee. I had no snow removing devise at the time so I had to risk frost bite with my hand wrapped in a T-Shirt that was in my trunk to get it off. Stupid unprepared Arizonian!
I become enraged when we do experience the bad times. The 3 days of negative 17. The three days of 103 degrees. That is when the news stations step in.
Take it to the streets! Something must be done!
Who are these weaklings that can't take three days of intolerable weather? Who? I want their phone numbers.
This is what happens on the third day of intolerable weather:
"How do you feel about this weather" asks the newsperson
and the responses:
"well it is terrible. It is just unlivable. We are living in unlivable conditions"
"the real question is, how much longer will we put up with this?"
"I know I can't go on like this any longer. I am sick of it. Just sick of it"
"Something needs to be done. This is no way for people to live"
"This is just not how you want in your life right now. You want to be outside. You can't be outside when this is going on"
Excuse me...are we talking about the extreme weather that has lasted 3 days or has a foreign military taken control of the city? What is going on? THREE DAYS. THREE FUCKING DAYS and you are acting like there is a deadly epidemic of some sort. Has there been an outbreak? Am I that last to know?
Now - of course my opinions are different. I actually have lived somewhere called Arizona. A place where extreme weather rules the better half of the year with no breaks. A place where your car melts. A place where I spent the entire good part of the year dreading what was coming.
Hence, I moved. You know what...if you don't like the weather, move. It is pretty simple. People have been doing it for hundreds of years.
In fact, I demand these sallies live in a place like Arizona. Where one actually experiences extreme weather for more than 1 week.
I admit it. I am Goldilocks. I left Chicago because it was too cold. I left Arizona because it was too hot. I woke up stung by a scorpion, did the math, and got the F out of there. Actually I knew I was leaving before the scorpion got me - but NOTHING sealed the deal like that. Take me to a place without the devil's army (scorpions) and where it is NOT NORMAL for a cockroach to wonder across your path.
Being away and coming back has left me with an appreciation for the seasons. It is nice to never dread a season. It goes like this:
Winter: Hooray Christmas! Santa, shiny things, and lights! Snow! Hooray for the first snow.
Then...enough. I am sick of this winter coat and I have lost half my winter gear on a night of drinking to ease the pain of this weather.
Spring: Finally we thaw. This is the worst season. Spring is lying whore as explained above. You go to sleep with 60 degrees and wake up to a fresh blanket of snow. F spring. But it is a relief from winter and you take what you can get.
Then...enough. I need stability, I can't take the unpredictability.
Summer: Hooray! Bikes (not Rollerblades) and the beach. Laying in parks! Dining al fresco. Coats be gone! The Cubs! A busy city full of excitement!
Then...enough. I want to eat stew and sip hot drinks with delightful flavors.
Fall. Hooray! The BEST season ever. There is nothing bad to say about this. There are way too many to mention. The crisp cool air. The colors. The lack of sweat.
Then....hmmmm...that awesome first snow would be great.
In closing...February sucks for the weather...but it sucks even more for how it is spelled. I HATE IT.
UGH! Would you believe, I can't come up with something to bitch about?
I'd like to blog about my crunchy knees...but who would that entertain?
I have decided I will speak of the weather because we are on the brink of Spring. February and March are the worst for us here in Chicago.
Spring in Chicago is your drug addicted mother on welfare that ditched out on the family years ago and comes for a visit every once in a while.
This year she stopped by on December 26th and dropped off some Christmas presents and then high tailed it out of there in 36 hours. I think she came by again once. She came back again for a day or two in January or February - I can't remember...but it was a weekend and a nice visit. She is here again for a day - maybe through the weekend - but she is unpredictable - it is her nature.Then she makes an alleged commitment to you on March 20th, some say March 21st - but since my birthday is March 20 - I claim the rights to spring. She is bad at commitments so she pretty much comes and goes until May or June - depending on her mood and then your step-mom, Summer, kicks her ass out...till she randomly shows up again in winter, unannounced.
Changing Seasons:
I am not sure how I lived without this for 9 years. There is something about the promise of change that really makes one hopeful and giddy. The entire city morphs into a different place at each season. I dig it. It works for me because I think I have some form of ADD and I can't handle too much of one thing.
However - I will say Chicagoans are the biggest pussies sometimes. City of Big Shoulders, my ass.
I can often be found screaming at the evening news when the weather hits a brutal and unlivable temperature on the third day. Yes. I said THIRD day. I can predict it. It is day number 3 when the news stations hit the streets to get the public's opinion. As though it is something one can rally against. As, though we can organize a coup against the weather. Give it up and deal. You live in Chicago. Chicago. Chicago!It is the midwest, my friends, and the we have that huge mass of water known as Lake Michigan that can make it or break it.
You can't leave the door without checking the weather. You never know what may happen. Spring is notorious for this crap...but still...it can happen at any time. When I first moved back here I did not have this in my routine. I went to work one day: It was 60 degrees outside. It was 30 degrees by 3 PM. I had my spring coat and that was all. My teeth chattered all the way home and I looked like an idiot.
"Didn't you listen to the weather" the co-workers said.
"I'm not use to that yet....I am from Arizona" I said sheepishly.
Another time it was clear skies. I was living in the suburbs at the time. When I took the train home....as we got deeper into the burbs I noted there ... was ... snow. No snow in the city....yet snow...in the burbs...just 5 miles out it started. At every stop there was another inch on the parked cars. Then...I got to my stop and 8 inches were on my car! WTF? Oh...this is that 'lake effect snow' / no snow thingee. I had no snow removing devise at the time so I had to risk frost bite with my hand wrapped in a T-Shirt that was in my trunk to get it off. Stupid unprepared Arizonian!
I become enraged when we do experience the bad times. The 3 days of negative 17. The three days of 103 degrees. That is when the news stations step in.
Take it to the streets! Something must be done!
Who are these weaklings that can't take three days of intolerable weather? Who? I want their phone numbers.
This is what happens on the third day of intolerable weather:
"How do you feel about this weather" asks the newsperson
and the responses:
"well it is terrible. It is just unlivable. We are living in unlivable conditions"
"the real question is, how much longer will we put up with this?"
"I know I can't go on like this any longer. I am sick of it. Just sick of it"
"Something needs to be done. This is no way for people to live"
"This is just not how you want in your life right now. You want to be outside. You can't be outside when this is going on"
Excuse me...are we talking about the extreme weather that has lasted 3 days or has a foreign military taken control of the city? What is going on? THREE DAYS. THREE FUCKING DAYS and you are acting like there is a deadly epidemic of some sort. Has there been an outbreak? Am I that last to know? Now - of course my opinions are different. I actually have lived somewhere called Arizona. A place where extreme weather rules the better half of the year with no breaks. A place where your car melts. A place where I spent the entire good part of the year dreading what was coming.
Hence, I moved. You know what...if you don't like the weather, move. It is pretty simple. People have been doing it for hundreds of years.
In fact, I demand these sallies live in a place like Arizona. Where one actually experiences extreme weather for more than 1 week.
I admit it. I am Goldilocks. I left Chicago because it was too cold. I left Arizona because it was too hot. I woke up stung by a scorpion, did the math, and got the F out of there. Actually I knew I was leaving before the scorpion got me - but NOTHING sealed the deal like that. Take me to a place without the devil's army (scorpions) and where it is NOT NORMAL for a cockroach to wonder across your path. Being away and coming back has left me with an appreciation for the seasons. It is nice to never dread a season. It goes like this:
Winter: Hooray Christmas! Santa, shiny things, and lights! Snow! Hooray for the first snow.
Then...enough. I am sick of this winter coat and I have lost half my winter gear on a night of drinking to ease the pain of this weather.
Spring: Finally we thaw. This is the worst season. Spring is lying whore as explained above. You go to sleep with 60 degrees and wake up to a fresh blanket of snow. F spring. But it is a relief from winter and you take what you can get.
Then...enough. I need stability, I can't take the unpredictability.
Summer: Hooray! Bikes (not Rollerblades) and the beach. Laying in parks! Dining al fresco. Coats be gone! The Cubs! A busy city full of excitement!
Then...enough. I want to eat stew and sip hot drinks with delightful flavors.
Fall. Hooray! The BEST season ever. There is nothing bad to say about this. There are way too many to mention. The crisp cool air. The colors. The lack of sweat.
Then....hmmmm...that awesome first snow would be great.
In closing...February sucks for the weather...but it sucks even more for how it is spelled. I HATE IT.
I'm just sayin'
When I was watching 30 Rock this week...
Jenna - said something to the effect of taking a "silkwood" shower.
ummmm...I made that joke months ago in my RPDSS post.
That is RIGHT...I am funnier than an Emmy winning sitcom. I called that Silkwood shit before they did.
I rule.
Jenna - said something to the effect of taking a "silkwood" shower.
ummmm...I made that joke months ago in my RPDSS post.
That is RIGHT...I am funnier than an Emmy winning sitcom. I called that Silkwood shit before they did.
I rule.
WT Food...
White Trash Food...what is it?
We shall explore this topic today.
It is food of poor taste - yet with a price that far exceeds the value.
You see there is a difference between being poor and being white trash.
Poor people are just poor. Where white trash is poor and, most importantly: stupid.
Say there was a big Monster Truck Rally coming up. A poor person that does not have the money will simply not go. Whereas white trash will forgo paying the mortgage to buy 7 prime seats to the event - even though it is the 9th Monster Truck Rally they have been to that year.
White Trash Food and Drink:
Pop Tarts:
Where do I begin? If White Trash had a mascot it would be the Pop Tart. If White Trash had a flag, there would be a picture of a Pop Tart on it. They cost far too much money. I suppose you could purchase an off brand - but nonetheless. The disgustingness of this delight never ends. Some kind of icing, a gooey manufactured center, and bleached white flour paste has been baked together into the land's most offensive breakfast treat. Stop eating them if you have any respect for yourself and the human race.
Grape Jelly:
Not to be confused with a jam or preserves. In reality you can insert any jelly in here but grape is the most popular and is particularly gross. I believe I had an early post on my blog about how I was served dry toast at a well known and respected breakfast establishment and all I got was grape jelly. As though that would be good enough for me. At least give me some margarine for cryin' out loud. I know I am a freak - I like pulp in my OJ. But the thing is - I like to know that actual fruit was present in the making of my fruit food. This is why JELLY is gross. What is it? Plus - UNSPREADABLE. IT just chucks out and moistens the bread. YUCK.
White Zinfandel:
This is a starter wine. It is what you drink in college, out of jug. Lord knows I have been stinkin' drunk on White Zin in my life. All those time: before my 21st year of life. It is for underage drinkers that don't know better. Once you graduate from college it MUST end. You ever wonder why a restaurant will have a list of 10 reds, 10 whites, and there is ONE white zin? Because - no one drinks it. No one drinks it because it is an embarrassment. It is not classy. Graduate to a finer wine, like Charles Shaw's Merlot...it is $3.
Velveeta Cheese:
It is not even cheese. It is solidified oil. It is cheese that sits on a shelf. Plus I believe it costs more money than gold per pound. Now - I am not sayin' it ain't DELICIOUS in a hot chili cheese dip. Lord knows that is one of the finest culinary treats known to man. But it is...white trash. The price to quality ratio makes it WT. Plus no one in their right mind eats Velveeta with out an accompaniment like a can of chili. The flavor is nasty. You need to hide that with some nice canned chili. (also not a nice flavor without the Velveeta - two wrongs do make a right in this case)
There are foods that are commonly miscatorgorized as White Trash Foods. Again - cheapness does not signify WT. If you do not understand that - you do not understand the golden rule of White Trash
Kraft Mac-n-Cheese:
This is one of the greatest treasures of America. You having a bad day? Feeling low? You make yourself a box of MnC and you are on top of the world. I like to heavily sprinkle mine with pepper. Preferably pepper out of a grinder so I get that course pepper that adds just the right amount of class. Now - I remind you I am talking the powder mix.
Now - this is not to be confused with Velveeta's Shells N Cheese with that Velveeta goo in a pouch. That stuff tastes like...well...Velveeta which is gross. Velveeta Shells and Cheese is the White Zinfandel of MnCs. People that prefer it to the powder mix are confused. They think it makes them classy. It costs a premium and they think they are getting value. No no....if you think that...then you are white trash. I don't care how much money you make.
Kool-Aid:
It is childhood favorite of the 80's. Maybe it still is. I can't see myself letting my kids drink sugar water - but hey - everyone needs a quick sugar boost. I won't say I won't. However - it is age appropriate. I am not sure an adult really needs to be drinking Kool-Aid. But maybe this is some people of lower income's only access to a fruit flavored beverage. For them - I say - drink you Kool-Aid if you need. The last time I had Kool-Aid - or the generic brand was when I had dysentery in middle school. My doctor made me drink a anti-dehydration formula and to flavor it: Kool-Aid packets. This formula was obviously make at home, poor man Gatorade. But this formula suited my mother's tight purse strings. Lord knows if she was told to buy Gatorade I would have died - far too pricey. BUT...to this day - I regard lemon lime flavored Gatorade as "dysentery flavor" as that was the only flavor that tasted decent with the mix. And it tasted EXACTLY like the make-at-home Gatorade formula. You take some salt, some water, some baking soda, and a package of lemon-lime Kool-Aid mix --- you got yourself the yellow Gatorade. Yuck.
Ramen Noodles:
Cheap. For poor people. For people on a strict budget to live another day...not white trash. Don't judge. However - if you are eating this and not getting an Earned Income Credit on your taxes...please rethink your choice. It is 15 cents a package for a reason: it is crap.
Chicken Drumsticks:
What is wrong with chicken drumsticks? They are very economical and provide protein for your body. Sure it might be considered the greasiest part of the chicken - but it provides something, unlike a pop tart or grape jelly. We have become a society that shuns the drumstick. We are entitled mother-f-ers that want out boneless skinless chicken breast. Sure - it is healthier. But - The drumstick should never be overlooked for an occasional dinner. It is inexpensive, has nutritional value and is moist and tasty.
Now - I know this will enrage and offend people across this great earth. But remember - this is only my opinion. I certainly don't think you are WT if you enjoy these treats from time to time. But if all my WT foods are on you daily food intake...I might suggest there are actually far tastier and more nutritional food out there for your dollar.
We shall explore this topic today.
It is food of poor taste - yet with a price that far exceeds the value.
You see there is a difference between being poor and being white trash.
Poor people are just poor. Where white trash is poor and, most importantly: stupid.
Say there was a big Monster Truck Rally coming up. A poor person that does not have the money will simply not go. Whereas white trash will forgo paying the mortgage to buy 7 prime seats to the event - even though it is the 9th Monster Truck Rally they have been to that year.
White Trash Food and Drink:
Pop Tarts:
Where do I begin? If White Trash had a mascot it would be the Pop Tart. If White Trash had a flag, there would be a picture of a Pop Tart on it. They cost far too much money. I suppose you could purchase an off brand - but nonetheless. The disgustingness of this delight never ends. Some kind of icing, a gooey manufactured center, and bleached white flour paste has been baked together into the land's most offensive breakfast treat. Stop eating them if you have any respect for yourself and the human race. Grape Jelly:
Not to be confused with a jam or preserves. In reality you can insert any jelly in here but grape is the most popular and is particularly gross. I believe I had an early post on my blog about how I was served dry toast at a well known and respected breakfast establishment and all I got was grape jelly. As though that would be good enough for me. At least give me some margarine for cryin' out loud. I know I am a freak - I like pulp in my OJ. But the thing is - I like to know that actual fruit was present in the making of my fruit food. This is why JELLY is gross. What is it? Plus - UNSPREADABLE. IT just chucks out and moistens the bread. YUCK.White Zinfandel:
This is a starter wine. It is what you drink in college, out of jug. Lord knows I have been stinkin' drunk on White Zin in my life. All those time: before my 21st year of life. It is for underage drinkers that don't know better. Once you graduate from college it MUST end. You ever wonder why a restaurant will have a list of 10 reds, 10 whites, and there is ONE white zin? Because - no one drinks it. No one drinks it because it is an embarrassment. It is not classy. Graduate to a finer wine, like Charles Shaw's Merlot...it is $3. Velveeta Cheese:
It is not even cheese. It is solidified oil. It is cheese that sits on a shelf. Plus I believe it costs more money than gold per pound. Now - I am not sayin' it ain't DELICIOUS in a hot chili cheese dip. Lord knows that is one of the finest culinary treats known to man. But it is...white trash. The price to quality ratio makes it WT. Plus no one in their right mind eats Velveeta with out an accompaniment like a can of chili. The flavor is nasty. You need to hide that with some nice canned chili. (also not a nice flavor without the Velveeta - two wrongs do make a right in this case)There are foods that are commonly miscatorgorized as White Trash Foods. Again - cheapness does not signify WT. If you do not understand that - you do not understand the golden rule of White Trash
Kraft Mac-n-Cheese:
This is one of the greatest treasures of America. You having a bad day? Feeling low? You make yourself a box of MnC and you are on top of the world. I like to heavily sprinkle mine with pepper. Preferably pepper out of a grinder so I get that course pepper that adds just the right amount of class. Now - I remind you I am talking the powder mix.
Now - this is not to be confused with Velveeta's Shells N Cheese with that Velveeta goo in a pouch. That stuff tastes like...well...Velveeta which is gross. Velveeta Shells and Cheese is the White Zinfandel of MnCs. People that prefer it to the powder mix are confused. They think it makes them classy. It costs a premium and they think they are getting value. No no....if you think that...then you are white trash. I don't care how much money you make.Kool-Aid:
It is childhood favorite of the 80's. Maybe it still is. I can't see myself letting my kids drink sugar water - but hey - everyone needs a quick sugar boost. I won't say I won't. However - it is age appropriate. I am not sure an adult really needs to be drinking Kool-Aid. But maybe this is some people of lower income's only access to a fruit flavored beverage. For them - I say - drink you Kool-Aid if you need. The last time I had Kool-Aid - or the generic brand was when I had dysentery in middle school. My doctor made me drink a anti-dehydration formula and to flavor it: Kool-Aid packets. This formula was obviously make at home, poor man Gatorade. But this formula suited my mother's tight purse strings. Lord knows if she was told to buy Gatorade I would have died - far too pricey. BUT...to this day - I regard lemon lime flavored Gatorade as "dysentery flavor" as that was the only flavor that tasted decent with the mix. And it tasted EXACTLY like the make-at-home Gatorade formula. You take some salt, some water, some baking soda, and a package of lemon-lime Kool-Aid mix --- you got yourself the yellow Gatorade. Yuck.Ramen Noodles:
Cheap. For poor people. For people on a strict budget to live another day...not white trash. Don't judge. However - if you are eating this and not getting an Earned Income Credit on your taxes...please rethink your choice. It is 15 cents a package for a reason: it is crap.
Chicken Drumsticks:
What is wrong with chicken drumsticks? They are very economical and provide protein for your body. Sure it might be considered the greasiest part of the chicken - but it provides something, unlike a pop tart or grape jelly. We have become a society that shuns the drumstick. We are entitled mother-f-ers that want out boneless skinless chicken breast. Sure - it is healthier. But - The drumstick should never be overlooked for an occasional dinner. It is inexpensive, has nutritional value and is moist and tasty. Now - I know this will enrage and offend people across this great earth. But remember - this is only my opinion. I certainly don't think you are WT if you enjoy these treats from time to time. But if all my WT foods are on you daily food intake...I might suggest there are actually far tastier and more nutritional food out there for your dollar.
So when I wheeled my 2 wheel drive 2000 Jetta out of the snow a couple weeks ago, I was reminded of one thing: Drivers Education.
Or is it Driver's Education. Is the driver owning the education? It could. Or is the Education being described as that for Drivers. It could.
I have no idea and I care not for grammar. It is a silly practice.
The important thing is that I know the difference between its and it's and their, they're, there... that is all I care about.
Anyway - I would like to send a shout out to all that had the pleasant experience of Drivers Ed with Mr. Arnold. I only had the pleasure of 'Behind The Wheel' with Mr. Arnold once. Once - for parallel parking.
I am very good at parallel parking. I can get my car into the most absurd places...then when the car leaves behind me...the color of said car is all over my bumper and sometimes on the side of my car. Whatever. They ain't good, like I good. I RULE at The P-Park. I am not too proud to brag. Perhaps I have MR. Arnold to thank. I doubt it. I just remember him flipping out and then drawing a diagram of what the tires were doing while I struggled to park in downtown Wheaton.
The reason I was reminded of DE (that is Drivers Ed, not Delaware) is because I was doing this forward - reverse - forward - reverse - forward - reverse action to get over the wall of snow.
I learned this action in simulator. Simulator. Did anyone have simulator besides those that attended G-Dub? UGH! It was by far the stupidest things know to man.
I sat in the seat in the back corner next to Mr. Arnold as he manned the projection of video circa 1967. I believe it was car 20. Let's just say it was for the sake of this story.
He would always yell at me because I was the closest target and he could see everything I did wrong. In the snow film we needed to get out of the snow. So I was forwarding and reversing my 'car' to get out. Yet...not in time with what the film was doing hence I got a 2 out of 100 score. The entire time he was screaming "Car 20 you are NEVER getting out of there. NEVER. What is going through your mind? What are you doing car 20??"
I am humored that he thought the damn simulator was an accurate evaluation of your driving skill. For those that don't know...the simulator was a room of at least 20 god damn fake drivers seat and controls and you had to drive according to whatever was going on in the outdated and retard film had going on...like 1932 to the closest current year of 1970.
I swear to God there was either a simulator film or classroom film in black and white of a man in a f-ing Model T driving down the road giving out "friendly honks" to possible collisions. So that man was driving and sending out a friendly honk every 2 seconds. "there is a car" HONK. "There is a person getting in a car" HONK. "I see someone in that car, they may open their door" HONK. "we are approaching an uncontrolled intersection" HONK. "there is a child looking out the window of his home and he might escape his home and run like lightening into the street" HONK. "I haven't honked in over 4 seconds, something must be going on" HONK
It was beyond absurd.
I also recall the most current Drivers Ed film in Glenbard West's collection of archives. It was made at whatever time Laugh In was the hit TV show. It was a bunch of drunk people go-go dancing and drinking. The message was that you can't eat or drink coffee to sober up before driving.
Anyway- my point is. I was reminded of Mr. Arnold. Screaming at me about getting out of the snow in a simulator when I was practicing the method.
You are a lucky person if you had drivers ed anywhere but GW. All films predated the Korean War, sunglasses, personal computers, dishwashers and perhaps the bayonet.
Or is it Driver's Education. Is the driver owning the education? It could. Or is the Education being described as that for Drivers. It could.
I have no idea and I care not for grammar. It is a silly practice.
The important thing is that I know the difference between its and it's and their, they're, there... that is all I care about.
Anyway - I would like to send a shout out to all that had the pleasant experience of Drivers Ed with Mr. Arnold. I only had the pleasure of 'Behind The Wheel' with Mr. Arnold once. Once - for parallel parking.
I am very good at parallel parking. I can get my car into the most absurd places...then when the car leaves behind me...the color of said car is all over my bumper and sometimes on the side of my car. Whatever. They ain't good, like I good. I RULE at The P-Park. I am not too proud to brag. Perhaps I have MR. Arnold to thank. I doubt it. I just remember him flipping out and then drawing a diagram of what the tires were doing while I struggled to park in downtown Wheaton.
The reason I was reminded of DE (that is Drivers Ed, not Delaware) is because I was doing this forward - reverse - forward - reverse - forward - reverse action to get over the wall of snow.
I learned this action in simulator. Simulator. Did anyone have simulator besides those that attended G-Dub? UGH! It was by far the stupidest things know to man.
I sat in the seat in the back corner next to Mr. Arnold as he manned the projection of video circa 1967. I believe it was car 20. Let's just say it was for the sake of this story.
He would always yell at me because I was the closest target and he could see everything I did wrong. In the snow film we needed to get out of the snow. So I was forwarding and reversing my 'car' to get out. Yet...not in time with what the film was doing hence I got a 2 out of 100 score. The entire time he was screaming "Car 20 you are NEVER getting out of there. NEVER. What is going through your mind? What are you doing car 20??"
I am humored that he thought the damn simulator was an accurate evaluation of your driving skill. For those that don't know...the simulator was a room of at least 20 god damn fake drivers seat and controls and you had to drive according to whatever was going on in the outdated and retard film had going on...like 1932 to the closest current year of 1970.
I swear to God there was either a simulator film or classroom film in black and white of a man in a f-ing Model T driving down the road giving out "friendly honks" to possible collisions. So that man was driving and sending out a friendly honk every 2 seconds. "there is a car" HONK. "There is a person getting in a car" HONK. "I see someone in that car, they may open their door" HONK. "we are approaching an uncontrolled intersection" HONK. "there is a child looking out the window of his home and he might escape his home and run like lightening into the street" HONK. "I haven't honked in over 4 seconds, something must be going on" HONK
It was beyond absurd.
I also recall the most current Drivers Ed film in Glenbard West's collection of archives. It was made at whatever time Laugh In was the hit TV show. It was a bunch of drunk people go-go dancing and drinking. The message was that you can't eat or drink coffee to sober up before driving.
Anyway- my point is. I was reminded of Mr. Arnold. Screaming at me about getting out of the snow in a simulator when I was practicing the method.
You are a lucky person if you had drivers ed anywhere but GW. All films predated the Korean War, sunglasses, personal computers, dishwashers and perhaps the bayonet.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)