Last time TAT (That Aussie Tart) and I went out to dinner with some friends after happy hour. We went to this little French style café, which isn’t too bad. Service was a bit on the wonky side, but that is pretty much everywhere here. I swear, I don’t know who some places stay in business to be honest, but that’s a whole ‘nother story for another time. Anyway, this friend asked me if I missed cooking.
Yep, face plant in a big plate of depression. I miss not being in a kitchen so badly at times I seriously could just cry. I miss not working. I miss not having the adrenalin pumping when your ass is about one minute from going into the weeds. The noise, the heat and then… it’s over and everyone is cleaning and ready for a couple of well-deserved stiff drinks. Yeah, I miss it like nothing else. It’s my drug of choice and it was taken away from me when I was enjoying it the most. But… sometimes that’s the way things go. Who knows, if I could ever convince someone to cut my feet off and I get some of those bouncy prosthetics like that legless Olympian, I could be back in business, just bouncing off the walls of a kitchen once again.
Speaking of which, the next time I’m in France, I swear I’m going to find a good patisserie and eat my weight in éclairs! I don’t know what it wrong with American bakeries. They can’t seem to get it right no matter what. Oh… and a good opera cake. Damn, I’m craving junk food.
Hurry, change of subject…
You know what really burns my ass? A flame about three foot high. That an old quote from a Dolly Parton movie. A good friend, Lisa Schrader, tagged me in a post about some Yankee woman who had never appreciated Ms. Parton for who she really is. Of course so many people think that she’s just some overly made up country singing bimbo. She is so far from that. She is probably one of the most generous people on earth. She gives back to her community like no one ever else has. With all the wildfires that devastated the East Tennessee region, she has promised one-thousand dollars to each and every family affected until they get up on their feet. She’s held a fundraiser.
Here’s the link of the woman who changed her opinion of this icon.
An Open Apology To Dolly Parton
She bought Silver Dollar City and named it Dollywood, which I’m sure some of you may have heard of. That place used to only be open about four months out of the year. Now that place runs year round and provides thousands upon thousands of jobs to local and traveling people.
She also has a mobile library for the kids who are so remote; there is little or no chance for them to get to a library. She expanded on that and is now sending preschool kids’ books in the mail for free! You heard right, these kids have the opportunity to get a free book every month at no cost.
No, our jezebel wanna be is so much more than a talented songwriter – performer. She is a superstar where I come from and it has nothing to do with her musical abilities at all. So, I’m gonna sing me a little Dolly tonight while whooping up something in the kitchen tonight. I’m thinking Jolene might be the ticket.
Where’s that damn escalator…
I so want to jump on my soapbox. I’m just too fucking lazy to walk up the stairs. You might want to be glad that I can’t find the escalator. Trump the chump just pisses me off. Him and his stupid wall. At what point has a wall ever really worked. Let’s ask the Chinese. Or how about the Brits with their stupid wall. Did it work? Or Berlin… how well did that wall fair? Hmm. Walls haven’t worked at any point in history and it won’t work now. Physically or virtually. The anti-Muslim wall he’s erecting won’t work either. It’s only going to piss more people off and play into the hands of the extreme right radicals, Christian AND Muslim. Okay… that’s as far as I can make it without the escalator. Ain’t you glad!?
Moving right along…
Did I mention I’m having the wackiest cravings? My doctor put me on a mega dose of steroids for four days and they are kicking my ass bad. It’s worse that smoking pot, as I remember. Makes me want to eat the entire house. I sat down and had a party size bag of Doritos last night with about half a gallon of milk. Damn, I’m going to look like I swallowed a beach ball the way I’m going. Either that or I’m carry triplets, which is impossible. Oh wait… there is that whole immaculate conception thing… who knows… think I could sell that story?
I gotta goooo…
I’m gonna close this bad boy up now so I can go and scarf up something good… or not so good, so let me just say… get out there and live life. Be happy. Do something for someone else. You won’t break a nail. It won’t break the bank. Your face won’t crack if you smile. Just do it. Put some of them good Karma Coins in that piggy bank.
Have a grrreat week, y’all.