Congrats to my sister who is out with the old...
...and in with the new. ***Disclaimer***- Nobody was hurt in this post. Well, kinda. But all is better now so we can look back at it and laugh a bit. The new one's a nice shade of pink, huh?
For a few reasons, really, I have decided I need a gimmick. I want to give my readers something to look forward to, while at the same time giving my blog an interactive touch. And, truth be told, I can get lazy at times and feel I need a cop-out-type post I can rely on to get up relatively easily once a week.
Enter my fancy and well-intentioned Quote of the Week!
I yearn for the day where I don’t have to head off to a restaurant to earn a substantial part of my income. But since that day still has yet to even approach my radar screen, I have elected to put a silver lining on my food service misery and create something all can enjoy.
We hear it all, people. Don't forget that...
Every Friday(-ish) from here on out, I will nominate the top five things I have heard while patrolling the aisle’s of my place of employment. From disgruntled guests to perverted coworkers to, dare I predict the occasional submission from myself, help me to decide which one shall be named the Trimming Nosehairs’ Quote of the Week!
Here are this weeks top 5:
1. “Dude, I’m not kidding you…Jesus basically stole my girlfriend!”
2. “If you killed a female roommate, how would you dispose of the body?”
3. “Italy doesn’t have a red light district, but occasionally you see a house with a red light on it.”
4. “I don’t care what you say- I’m not touching your naked body!”
5. “I’m sorry, but it either tastes like sweat or soap. There is nothing delicious about it!”
Going on seventeen glorious uninterrupted years in the food service industry, I have picked up a thing or two that I can apply when I am messing around in my kitchen at home. One of those is a solid set of knife skills. I don’t claim to be a prodigy, but I can tell the difference between a full-tang and a partial tang, as well as a dice, julienne, chifanade, and brunoise (well, at lease the first three. Truthfully, I didn’t know what the hell a brunoise was until I Googled “knife skills” because I wanted to list one more term to hammer home that last sentence).
My wife, on the other hand, failed miserably in the restaurant biz after just a few short months (though she landed a strapping husband three years her junior there, so I guess it shouldn’t be considered a total failure. I think…), and though she cooks most of the family meals and does so quite well, I am amazed that she has never accidentally Van Gogh-ed herself prepping some veggies for the stock pot.
I’ve tried, mind you, but whenever I offered a pointer or suggestion, I have found that the knife starts to move away from the cutting board and toward my general direction. So I stopped that practice a long time ago, opting instead for kiss on the cheek accompanied with an encouraging “Look’s delicious, I can’t wait!” before exiting the kitchen- quick!
Then this appeared on my counter-top late last week.
I think she threw away the reciept on purpose so I couldn't take it back
I am not gonna lie. My first inclination when I saw this in my home was to sit down and write a grandiose satirical piece paralleling the entry of this tacky gadget into my home and spokesman Vince Shlomi’s great adventure last March. You remember Vince, a poor man’s Billy Mays who first entered the infomercial scene sporting a Madonna-style headset pimping the ShamWow before introducing us to the glories of the SlapChop.
Humble Beginnings
It seems not even the overnight successes of peddling gimmicky crap on late night TV could even get Vince laid, so on a trip to Miami our boy dabbled in the worlds oldest profession, using his new-found fortune to pick him up a hooker. It also seems that Vinnie forgot the #1 rule in prostitution and began to kiss his new employee (did he never watch Pretty Woman? There is no kissing!) and as soon as he stuck his tongue down her throat she chomped down on that bad boy and wouldn’t let go until he beat the crap out of her. It’s true, with the mugshots to prove it.
Anyways, that is where I was gonna go with this piece. That is until my wife came up to me with a dish of chopped almonds and a ridiculous grin as if she had proved a point. I love you to death, dear, but I will stick with my knife. I will admit one thing, however–
You were right, Vince. My wife does love your nuts.
So my wife is on an dirty hippie organic-super-all-natural health kick, yet I try to remain steadfast to the frugal values that reside deep within my core.
How do you think this usually turns out?
Gone forever are the 10 for $10 packs of mystery hot dogs and bleached white synthetic buns. Gone are the BOGO’s of Hungry Man’s, $.99 2-liters, and half-price pints of Ben & Jerry’s. Instead my body is being pumped full of whole grains, organic, fiber-induced goodness that I admit has kept me delightfully regular but has also left my wallet noticeably thinner. All those additives actually make things cheaper! Who woulda’ thunk it? But alas…
With all that said I am sure you can understand my apprehension while shopping over the weekend when I heard the wheels of my wife’s cart squeal over to the frozen food aisle where I was gazing longingly at my old friend, the Eskimo Pie.
I miss you, old friend...
“Umm,” she starts. “can you come and look at something and make sure you’re seeing the same thing I am?”
Sweet, perhaps a blue light special on all hemp personal grooming products or patchouli scented eau du toiltte! I snickered to myself as I was led away by my invisible leash toward the meat department.
“It says this ground bison is only $1.50 a pound instead of $5.99 but I don’t get why.”
Always the skeptic I examined those packages from every angle, checking dates, color, label…and it all looked fine. I even took a few over to the courtesy price scanner at the end of the toy isle, and every time got the same response:
***BEEP! $1.50 you cheap fuck! BEEP!***
I was convinced, and turned to my beautiful bride and gave her a toothy smile and a subtle nod conveying my eternal love.
“Cool, lets get a couple then.” she replied.
“THE HELL WE WILL!” I shot back. We were getting them all…21 of ‘em!
Anyone have any good bison recipes?
Hoarding bona fide hormone-free, no anitbiotics, leaner-than-chicken, moo-free red meat is the exact reason why basement freezers were invented, after all. Is it not?
And on the front of that freezer? Like on overly-proud parent displaying their child’s first perfect spelling test on the refrigerator door with an over-sized magnet, the was but one last detail left:
A happy reminder everytime I go to prepare a healthy meal
'Twas the night before the tree came down
Meet Ernie.
Hi everyone! I am Ernie....
Ernie is a pug, which means by default he is not my dog, but my wife’s dog and hers alone. His claim to fame is once having his eyeball pop of out his socket when he got a little too excited. Don’t worry, though. The vet gave him some medication the sucked the eyeball back into its socket and he’s good. He naturally smells funny and is blind as a bat, mind you- but good nonetheless.
Ernie has a habit of being a bit of a prima donna, which allows us to fast-forward to a morning late last week that found me motionless at the bottom of the stairs, staring at the ceiling. You see, it was cold outside, and a bit too early for Ernie to rise and shine. However, I needed to get in the shower and go to work to be able to afford to buy Ernie his kibble, so for expediency’s sake, I agreed to be his personal escort downstairs to the back door.
Kinda sorta- except I was still in my underwear & hadn't had coffee yet
“I fell down the stairs carrying your dog outside,” I told my wife on the phone later that morning.
“Oh My God! Is he OK!?!?” she exclaimed with great concern.
“He’s good,” I replied with a serene tone of calm. “My back hurts, I have a cherry-red, skid-burn-thing on my butt, and my elbow doesn’t work. But Ernie? He naturally smells funny and is blind as a bat, mind you- but good nonetheless.”
Imagine Ernie. It's not in my budget to stage photos, just steal them online (where it is legal to do so, of course)
