Cute, but getting on my last nerve.
Hi, I’m Tina, and I like to interview inanimate objects. Don’t judge me! Have you ever tried it? Well, then don’t knock it. I figure some people would rather get to know a critter before deciding to bring them into their home, so it’s only fair that I introduce you guys. Picture me as Barbara Walters. No, no, no. Picture me as Oprah! No, scratch that. Picture me as some weirdo in her pajamas. There you go, I’m all about honesty here. Without further ado, allow me to introduce Buttercup, a lovely little needle felted owl. She lives at my place, but really wants her independence. She’s at that age. Here we go…
Me: Good evening, Buttercup. How are you?
BC: I’m fine, but I have decided to change my name.
Me: Oh, really? What is the new name?
Me: Oh, that’s surprising. When I think of the name Raven I tend to think of a black bird, not a yellow owl.
BC: That’s because you’re racist.
Me: Woah! What?! That is a serious accusation. I am absolutely not racist.
BC: Well, then you’re bird-ist.
Me: I don’t think bird-ist is a word, but if it were, I wouldn’t be that either. I’m just saying that Raven, while being a first name, is also a specific type of bird. Kinda like choosing the name Robin or Wren might be strange. If you looked up Raven in the dictionary, you’d see a picture of a black bird. That’s all I’m saying, that name has a connotation that I thought maybe you weren’t aware of. See what I mean?
BC: No, I see nothing wrong with an owl named Raven or Robin or Wren. You are trying to oppress me.
Me: You know what, this interview is going nowhere fast. How about we end it here and we’ll just do this another day- okay?
BC: Oh, so now you just run away from what makes you uncomfortable, is that what it is? You just start something and then walk away from it, huh?
Me: No, not really, I just had planned on a more fun and light hearted interview. I think that’s more what readers are looking for. This is kinda like watching two people disagree, and that isn’t comfortable for most people. I was hoping your sweet personality would show through. This kind of attitude probably won’t get you adopted very quickly if you know what I mean.
BC: OMG! Now your’e trying to GET RID OF ME?! This is all a ploy to unload me onto some STRANGER?!?!
Me: *clears throat* This concludes our little chat. Please join us for more interviews at a later date.
BC: Oh, now you’re ignoring me?!! I see how it is.
mmmm, tastes like brains!
Howdy, y’all! I have a sneaking suspicion you may be here looking for some zombie candy awesomeness, and you’re in the right spot. If you’re looking for a daily dose of weird and wacky, then you’re also in the right spot! I’m flattered that you’re here, and you know what would flatter me even more? Can I be totally honest? I’d like it if you’d like me on Facebook. There is a little like button over there to your right.
I’m totally shameless, and if you like me on Facebook I will give you one thousand smoochy kisses!!!
Oops, wait a second. My husband said ix-nay on the oochy-smay isses-kay. Well, let’s see, time for plan B. If you like me on Facebook I will smile. Wow, that’s lame. Ok, if you like me on Facebook I will… I will… I will name my first born child after you! Dang it, I got vetoed on that one too. Anyway, if you like me on Facebook I will like it. I’ll get back to you with what else will happen. I will marinate and ruminate, and procrastinate. That’s about all I can say with you know who reading over my shoulder. So go ahead and like me, and have faith that good things will come. Or weird things will come. Or at least you will get one more click out of your click-tastic mouse.
heeeere granny granny granny
This is my sweet pupster, and her name is Trixie. It was a tough task to name this little girl, heaven help us if we ever need to name a human! I kinda wanted to name her something funny. Something like Kitty, Bunny, Lily, or my favorite… Grandma. I really think Grandma is a hilarious dog name for so many reasons. Think of the things you say about your dog, and now sub Grandma for your dog’s name. Funny- right?!
Aw man, Grandma is dragging her butt on the carpet again. Yikes, what’s that smell? I think Grandma needs a bath. Granny’s beard is getting kinda long, time for a trim! Oh no, Grandma pooped in her crate- bad Grandma! Bad! Grandma is out of kibble, we need more granny chow. Picture yourself yelling “GRAAAANDMAAAAAAA! COME!” out the front door. Or asking your neighbors if they’ve seen Grandma, seems she ran away again. Probably chasing the UPS truck.
I got a good laugh out of it, but then it came down to really naming her. When we saw that sweet little puppy face, that teensy little waggy tail, we just couldn’t do it. We were going through names, favorite tv characters, etc. We decided on Trixie after going through the characters on HBO’s Deadwood. I am not sure I should tell you that the character named Trixie is a prostitute… but I think I just did.
A bevy of beans
We are not big bean eaters around here. In fact, we are not bean eaters at all. I’ve just never been a fan of any bean. They seem like little pouches full of grit, and I don’t see how that’s appealing. As a child, I just swallowed them like pills, or tried to hide them in my napkin. Eventually my folks would just zip my bowl of chili through the blender first.
For some reason, I’ve decided that we’re old enough to just get over the bean phobia and start eating them. They are a good source of fiber and protein, and it just seems like I’m too old to say I don’t like them. I’m still not sure I’ll ever work up to eating straight up beans on a plate, but I think I can handle working them into soup. I’ll keep you posted on our progress, and if you’ve successfully converted a bean hater, please let me know how you did it. I’m flying blind here.
So now it begins, 2012 will be the year of the bean, and consequently, maybe the year of the fart. Forget I said that. I’ll let you know how it goes, the bean part, not the fart part. The end.
I grew up in Ohio, but never knew that Ohio had it’s own style of pizza until just a year or so ago. I was watching a pizza cook-off, and it featured four kinds of pizzas. New York, Chicago, California, and Ohio style. I was like, “Ohio style, wha…?” and then I consulted the oracle for more information. Google knew about Ohio pizza all this time, and I was never clued in! It’s a thin crust pizza, with no puffy crust ring around the edge. The toppings go all the way to the edge, and it is my favorite for sure. We didn’t call it Ohio style pizza, we just called it pizza, and it is delicious. Then we moved to Georgia, and we mostly find New York pizza here. As far as I know, Georgia doesn’t have it’s own pizza. But if it did, I think it would be deep fried- with gravy, and maybe peaches for good measure. Anyway, this is a long path that leads here, to tortilla crust pizza, and the crunchy deliciousness of it all.
It’s such a simple recipe that I don’t think I’ll even write it out in traditional recipe form. I’ll just talk it up here, and you can do what you please at your house. Ok? Here we go!
Start with your favorite tortilla, I do make my own tortillas on occasion (more on that later), but for this particular dinner I used our favorite store bought variety. I like my crust really crispy, like a cracker, so I rubbed the top of the tortilla with a little bit of olive oil. Pop it in a 425 degree oven for about 5 minutes. Mine did puff up a bit, but that was no biggie. Pull the tortilla out of the oven and schmear a thin layer of pizza or marinara sauce on there. I used my homemade marinara sauce, I’ll give you that recipe a little later, but only if you’re good. Then add your mozzarella cheese and toppings, I used turkey pepperoni. Pop it back in the oven for 5-10 minutes and bingo, you’ve got a crunchy pizza that was super simple. The end!
Hey there, good looking!
This needle felted valentine heart is totally into you, and who can blame him?! You’re the whole package, and everyone can tell- just sayin’.
I was out to make some calorie free valentines, you know, for those of us watching our figures. The only problem is, I had to do something with the candy that came in this heart-shaped box… so much for my figure. But YOUR figure is more important here, right? Oh wait, did you think I was calling you fat? Noooooo… well, maybe, but mostly no. And now I think I’m digging myself a hole here, so I’m gonna call it quits on this post. Happy early Valentine’s Day anyway! Maybe you and I can mend our relationship over candy, because you can absolutely afford the calories.
This is a photo of Chateau Elan, it’s a lovely winery and spa not too far from our place. It’s here that I have found my favorite wine, well, if you can call it wine. I am not an expert on wine by any means. But I am an expert of what I like, and what I like is pretty much grape juice for grown ups. I like sweet white wine, and my current favorite is Chateau Elan’s Muscadine. They also have a delicious peach wine, and berry wine. Some of you will turn up your noses, and that’s fine. Just don’t go telling me about how wine is supposed to be this and that and dry with chocolate undertones and all that jazz. Don’t go hatin’ on me, you may guzzle whatever you choose. All I’m saying is this- if you’re coming to dinner, bring a bottle of what you like, and we’ll pop that bad boy open.
Wine drinking is serious business in some circles. In fact, there are countless articles written about choosing the proper glass for your wine. Buy the best you can afford, use larger glasses for reds, champagne goes in a skinny little flute, etc, etc. I expertly chose a long stemmed glass with a wide-mouth for my beverage of choice. I’m sure you’re on the edge of your seat wondering why. No? Well, I’ll tell you anyway. My nose fits in it.
That’s right, I have a big nose. You wanna make something of it? For me, the most important feature of a wine glass is being able to fit my big schnoz in there so that I may drink comfortably. That’s it. Are you disappointed? Well… then maybe you should have quit reading up where I said I’m no wine expert! I hope you’re not afflicted with big-nose-itis as I am, but now you’re aware. Maybe you have a friend who comes to mind when you think of this issue. Give ’em a wide glass, trust me, they’ll thank you for it!
I’ve censored the following, in protest of a bill that gives any corporation and the US government the power to censor the internet–a bill that could pass THIS WEEK. To see the uncensored text, and to stop internet censorship, visit:
I ████ the ████████ █████ ████! If I █████, I █████ ████ it on the ████. And the ████████ is so █████████ ███████ of our ██████ ███████. ████████ ██████ ██████ is a █████████ █████, but █████ so at the ███████ of our ████ ██████ is not. ██████ █████ ██████████████████.org to █████ ████. ████ ████ ███████ ████ to ███████ ████ ███████████████.
mmmmmm, brain filling!
I bought a box of Valentine candy and brought it home. It sat there on the counter, just looking at me. Then somehow I totally, accidentally, unexpectedly, and other words that end in -ly, opened it. Then I decided to just have a peek in there. I mean, it was open, I had to check it out.
First, I threw away the coconut one. Come on, everyone knows that one is trash! If you’re that renegade coconut lover, let me know, and I’ll save ’em up for you. Then, I had the caramel one, because that one is my favorite. And then… well, I’m not sure you need me to go on. The good news is, I’ve replaced the chocolates with zombie and monstery goodness! Coming soon to an etsy shop near you!
What could it be?!
I looooove anticipation. I love it almost as much as the main event. Actually, sometimes I love it even more than the main event. That’s partly why I was so excited to come home yesterday and see these presents sitting on the hearth.
My birthday is about 2 weeks away, and these boxes are staring at me, and I kinda like it. The gold box is heavy, and I know it is something that plugs in. I know this because my husband loves things that plug in. He gets cool plugger-inner things for me, then teaches me how to use them. It’s a fantastic system, and it gives me an air of being tech-savvy. Then people are like, “Oooh- can you fix my whatchamacallit?!” And I’m all, “No.”
That’s because it’s all a lie. I just masquerade as someone who knows how to use that fancy universal remote. I am not kidding when I say I take notes and email them to myself. Then when I forget how to use my gadget I don’t have to fess up, I just look it up and go quietly along. I’m pretty sure that the purple one is not electronic, but you never can tell. It could be an accessory, a book, a cd, a dvd, it could be, it could be… a pony! But for now, it’s the anticipation of something fantastic, and that is a bonus gift in itself.