Saturday, December 27, 2008
At 3a.m., I am wide awake. At 5a.m., I have dozed off then woken back up with an odd dream from which it was best to wake.
Sigh. Shrug of the shoulder. What are ya to do?
At 6a.m., I began a series of very . . . disturbing trips to the bathroom. I'm sure they were related primarily to poor eating habits. But since my stomach was upset, I didn't want to aggrivate matters by eating further.
That's from the same guy who knows if he doesn't eat SOMETHING for breakfast (usually a turkey sandwich on whole wheat bread as I drive to work), that I feel "funny" by 9:30a.m. So at 11a.m. when I became incredibly weak and light heated, I walked to my parents spare room and practically passed out.
During the next 24 hours plus of extreme fatigue and constant sleeping, I determined such plausible reasons as second hand exposure to meth (don't ask, there's no where in my world where I could have come into contact with meth) and hepatitis (no, never turned yellow the least bit). There was also the possibility that I simply caught a 24 hour bug. Only in hindsight did I think it may be related to diabetes and my failure to eat anything at all, when I know good and well that 9:30a.m. is about as long as I can go.
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
I took PTO today and it's been the best thing in the world. I slept til almost 9a.m.! Made myself a breakfast of farm fresh eggs with some Pillsbury croissants. I've piddled 'round the house, gathered up gifts and what-not, and played my all time favorite Christmad c.d.: Kenny & Dolly, Once Upon A Christmas. It's a sound track from a cheesy television special. The cd is a treasured gift. Not that it's a super great gift, but that it had to be hard to track down several years ago when I received it from a friend who picked up on an of the cuff remark about a memory of the show.
I've gone out to Big Lots and spent more money I did not need to spend. And I've called my oldest nephew and with the joy of a child's voice he answered the phone "YOU'RE STAYING THE NIGHT HERE!" Moments like that, I'm thrilled to be an uncle.
(Right this moment, Hard Candy Christmas is on). "Me, I"ll be just fine and dandy . . . . "
Church service at 5p.m. and I'm looking forward to it, followed by supper with Skeeter & Noodle, Sass & Spyder (someday I'll bother to learn how to do a hyperlink). I think they're having some plumbing drama over there. We always have a Mexican Christmas eve.
Inspired by my friend Red's recent successful trip to her home, I'm going to do my hardest to keep good karma in my heart and stay at my parents until Friday morning. Let's all keep our fingers crossed.
Saturday, December 20, 2008
Last night was an unexpected Boys Night. Sissy (Noodle) had to work and I volunteered to keep Spyder. We were sansa Sass who was at a sleepover. So Spyder and I left the bookstore headed for some supper, when Skeeter called saying he was getting off work and hungry. I asked if he wanted some pizza and he did and we kinda hit a pizza jackpot. Skeeter wanted 3 slices, which I realized was one dollar less than a small. So I ordered him a small, and they made him a medium by accident. So he won the pizza jackpot.
Skeeter offered movie night, and we went for the class first Indiana Jones. Nothing like the classic scenes in that movie. Plus I had picked up a big bag of cheesy puffs. No finer food in the world than cheesy puffs.
It was an unexpected Boys Night, but a very good sorta surprise night.
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
Saturday, December 13, 2008
So last night, starving, I went in there with that on my mind. The restaurant was full-up, people at every table and covering the bar. Yeah for them, a full house. I couldn't have been happier. I ordered my food to go, and since I live all of 60 seconds from the restaurant, was on my way.
Uh, yeah...don't ever order that to go. I ended up with a big congealed glop of cheese. Microwaving only seemed to make it a hot glop of cheese.
There's a lesson learned.
Sunday, December 7, 2008
Friday, November 28, 2008
Sunday, November 23, 2008
For 13 1/2 years, from the moment my brother picked her up, until the moment today that he laid her down, she was treated the way her name deserved. She was our Princess. My father loves to tell the story, that when my brother brought her home, he could hold her in the palm of his hand. And truly, he could. But she held us all by the heart strings.
but in this case, I can remember the Christmas morning it was waiting under the tree. I found these pics on the internet, but I have a sneaky suspicion my original one is in the attic at my parents' house. Just looking at it makes me remember how much I was excited to get it on Christmas morning!
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
it's the best $50 I've spent in a long time. Allowed me to really free up some furniture, by taking entertainment pieces off them, and really move the rooms around. Pieces into the living room, into the bedrooms, etc. The new apartment furniture lay-out is all MyFella's. It's funny, he thinks he's not gay at all. But he had it all in his head just itching to get out. But I think he approaches it in a functional way, not a decorative way. It's not something looks better here. It's that it functions better here. Anyway, either way, it's a darned good expense of fifty bucks.
Saturday, November 15, 2008
Sunday, November 9, 2008
Thursday, November 6, 2008
I'm really happy. Though I think it looks a bit goofy to wear a t-shirt to work, I'm gonna do it! I'm just sort of a "company man" like that!
My fellow Americans: Now that the election is over, I must face the reality that my dream to be President probably will not come to fruition. (I love that word, "fruition.") In doing so, I realize that I will never see my dream of having Rob Lowe look at a pager that says "POTUS" and leave his date with a hooker to rush to my office. (I just loved West Wing!).
But I believe and recognize and have faith (when applicable) in the following:
The time of "public service" has long since given way to the time of politicians. The age of the internet and 24 hour news channels has changed us from a time of information to a time of minutiae masquerading as information.
Both of the major candidates are
The position of President is "of the
I wish that I could be a conservative Republican. I wish it with all my heart. I'm afraid I'm just more open minded than most of their policies. Many times I agree with what they say, but not with what the reality of life as I see it, or what I perceive to be the spirit in which they say it.
I believe that abortion is murder. But I know that repealing Roe V Wade won't stop abortion. I admire the people who stand on the corner of
I believe in the sanctity of marriage. But I believe people who claim to care about the sanctity of marriage do very little to reduce divorce rates.
I believe that people have the right to disagree about equal rights and marriage rights for all. But I don't understand why they take such steps to withhold from others, instead of just disagreeing and letting others live their lives in their own positive, life affirming ways. Mostly I don't understand how one group of adult, tax-paying citizens think they should withhold something from another group of adult, tax-paying citizens.
I believe that the ugly side of human nature has, for centuries, included war. I believe the "good side" fights the "bad side." But I believe that sometimes you lose your way, and it's hard to tell the good from the bad.
I believe that social welfare programs are sometimes necessary to keep good people from starving. I believe that, at any given time, most working Americans are just a few missed paychecks away from needing the assistance of those programs to provide for themselves and their families. But many people abuse them.
I believe that illegal immigration is a problem. But I don't have a problem with immigration or immigrants. With very few exceptions, most of us are descended from immigrants. Most of the immigrants I know work in physically laborious jobs, much harder than any job I've ever held, and work 7 days a week.
I believe "rich" people should pay at least in percentage as much tax as "poor" people. I believe the trickle down theory is a sham. I don't think "rich" should pay more because they're rich. I just don't think they should pay less.
I believe in G-d, Jesus, and a Holy Trinity. I believe "in God we trust." I'm just realistic enough to know that with so many different churches, beliefs and branches of belief, that your idea of what He wants and mine often differ. I respect your belief, whether I agree or not. I hope you respect mine. I promise not to try and take away your right to your belief, and hope you do the same.
I believe I am a patriotic American. I believe you can be a patriotic American citizen and still disagree with me.
I now ask for your support as I consider my candidacy for 2012.
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
I was blissfully unaware of any presidential thoughts this morning until I was in the shower. Just a moment before putting "citrus explosion" in my hair, I thought, "Wow! I don't even know who the new president will be." It was a fun morning, looking back.
Mostly I'm thankful that it's all over!
Here's a picture of a grocery store hottie. Oh, he was a handsome specimen. Blonde, baseball cap, lean body. Jeans were "just torn enough." I love that look, don't know why.
For me, voting took just about one hour to the minute. The building was deceptively line-less, with the people within snaking back on themselves in a hallway. I took a book and waited my turn to cast a vote for . . . something. I wasn't really sure until the moment I clicked it if I would vote for the candidate I had chosen. And I'm still not sure I chose the right guy. Oddly enough, I would have felt the same way had I clicked on the other guy.
But the most important thing about the voting experience for me was voting hottie: white male, probably 26 or so. Brown hair, gorgeous lean legs that were lean, tan and hairy. Wearing a pair of those loose hanging shorts and a black fleece zipper thing. A red baseball cap. The pics attached don't do him justice. Guess I moved the camera a bit. Oh well. He made my voting experience a world better.
Sunday, November 2, 2008
Since I had my own little breakdown about two weeks ago, I have steadfast resolved to not participate in political one-shots via Facebook statements, Myspace, etc. ad nauseam. (I've got to check the spelling on that word).
A girl on Facebook the other day had a statement like "Wow! I can't believe an Obama supporter attacked a woman and carved a B in her face! Way to go, Barack!" . . . . Uh ~ hello? First, it was ludicrous to begin with. Second, it was a lie. Did she ever go back and say "Wow! I can't believe a McCain supporter carved a B in her own face and pretended it was an Obama supporter!" Uh, no.
This morning a woman I sorta know has the statement "I hope everyone who supports Obama gets what they deserve, and I don't mean money!" Well, WTF do you mean? That every single citizen who disagrees with you somehow deserves to "get" something? Jeeze oh pete. People really should just calm down.
Yesterday, near to starving, I told MyFella, "We got to have lunch." I told him to just pull in anywhere he wanted. He pulled into Popeye's. Ya know, I wouldn't have suggested it, wouldn't have asked for it, and didn't understand why he did it.
You know what? The chicken was GOOD. The store was spotless clean. The employees were friendly. Oh, did I mention the chicken was GOOD?
This may sound like a corny jingle, but I just love that chicken at Popeye's!
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
In response to some internet article about saving electricity, I emailed a friend of mine yesterday who works for a utility company. I provide the following information as a public service announcement:
A friend's response:Dang! This advice was sounding good until I read the last sentence! :(
Her response again:
They don’t say you CAN’T have them in the shower with you.
That's how I felt yesterday. Lately I've gotten so balled up over receiving those mass forwarded, viral emails, that I've gone nuts with long diatribe replies. Built arguments in my head, framed them around phrases, contemplated words, and sent them off. And ticked off a couple of three people that . . .well, you know, it just didn't really matter all that much.
One of them even phrased it thinking I would realize she was asking me (or someone) to double check it on snopes because snopes is blocked at her work site. I didn't read that into it, so I just let loose.
I really do wish people would check on snopes or factorfiction or something first. I think if you don't, you run the risk of just telling lies and taking part in hate. But if they don't, I need to take a breath and calm down before ripping out emails.
Calm is my mantra today. Oh, and I'm going to try and not go to that group at all today. I need a self imposed day off. I made some apologies last night. Hope that's enough.
On a related note, I've about decided that those viral emails probably weren't written by anyone for or against a candidate. I think they were probably written by the same type of people who write viruses and send them out. They just want to stir up drama in people like I did. It's just viral and ugly.
Sunday, October 19, 2008
It's like cold water on a hot day.
Thank you, BBC. Thank you.
After reading an opinion posted on line about Torchwood, I'm second guessing myself. I'm bad about doing that sometimes. But usually only on things that don't really matter. So now I'm wondering if the first episode of season 2 was really any good or not. Did I really enjoy the homo-banter, or did I prefer it when it was much better hid and stealthy? Was the outrageous kissing really necessary, or any part of this world? Was it ever a scary story, or did I know from the start that this guy would double cross them? Maybe it wasn't all that good.
After watching episode 2, I'm really confused. I think it was a little better. But somehow, I knew all along that the young alien lady would find a way to kill herself to save her humanity. I did like the one little when Ianto said, "He is dashing." and everyone sorta agreed. I kind of thought it was funny.
Sigh. I just don't know.
I've watched "To the last man" and loved the writing thoroughly. The "one morning" music is modern but haunting. The play between Toshiko & Tommy is drawn out nicely. Her conflicts seem normal in an unnormal situation. Oddly enough, the only thing I did not like is the kissing between Jack & Ianto. It seems oddly anti-climactic and a let-down. All the play, the subtletly, the tension, gone in a clumsy kiss. Just too something.
"One Of These Mornings"
One of these mornings
Won't be very long
You will look for me
And I'll be gone
It's like cold water on a hot day.
Thank you, BBC. Thank you.
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
Is it wrong to think dirty thoughts during prayer? Or more specifically, is it more wrong to think them during a prayer?
Sunday, October 12, 2008
In doing some of my blogs on here, I wrote on here, and if I thought the story was funny or interesting, I might click/copy/paste it over.
Yeah. See. That whole "to be gay" or "not to be gay" thing, I don't care to go into that with people I haven't actually seen since 1987 (count those years, 1987) or co-workers. And this blog, like so many other people's blogs, is sorta secretive. Not real secretive, I understand, but sorta. Names are usually changed to protect the innocent, that kind of thing.
I accidentally click/copy/pasted a friggin' link.
Found by my MyFella's neice. . . . . . . . . who didn't know he is gay. . . . . and dating me . . . . .
I think he took it better than me, rushing to get home to figure out howthahellidmanagedthat! Sheesh. I've deleted the link and figured out how it happened. Silly me, I guess I just don't understand a damned thing about html coding and all that crap.
But now, my blog's been found. MyFella's swearing he only read one or two postings and he did not keep the address in his history or anything. But still, it's found.
So I'm considering what to do. To keep or not to keep? Close it out and call it a day? Keep posting like it never happened and believe him when he says he didn't keep the link? I don't know. I'm not gonna lose a lot of sleep over it. I mean, the bigger picture is he got outed to his niece. Surely my heart break over blog-exposure isn't that big a deal in comparison. But I liked being able to write about my experiences with him, without him being able to see them. Wistful sigh.
I'm searchin' for my blue jeans on a stranger's bedroom floor
Well, shouldn't I feel guilty well I don't feel a thing
I'd wake her up and say goodbye, but I can't recall her name
Now that's a country song!
Randy Hauser/Anything Goes
Saturday, October 11, 2008
OK, so here's my problem: Having waited months and months for Torchwood to come out on dvd/Netflix, it's finally here! The problem? I learned my lesson (maybe?) with the most recent season of Stargate: Atlantis and the last season I watched of MI-5.
You see, Torchwood (and I'm sooooo thinking ahead to Dr. Who, on my Netflix list and showing it will pop up in November! YEAH!) and other shows play off a subtle weaving of emotions week to week. With Dr. Who & Torchwood, there's often just something at the end that's left you wanting more. . . a sad ending, a happy ending, a curious ending, a two-parter. SOMETHING! And you find yourself positively moist with anticipation by the time a week passes and the next episode comes on. That makes it sort of like tantric-t.v.
But what do you do when you can, quite literally, wait for MONTHS AND MONTHS and then, if you work your Netflix que right, complete the ENTIRE SEASON IN LIKE A DAY, or a weekend! Then, what do you do for like the next FULL YEAR! aaaaggghhhhh!
I guess I could watch one episode, return the dvd, and put it right back on my que. Or force myself to watch only one dvd and wait a week in between. But you know a regular series stretches out something like, what jeeze, weeks and weeks and weeks?
Sigh. The first dvd is here now. What to do, what to do?
"Flexitarian." When you want to be vegetarian, but you're just too poor too afford it. As in, at work, a friend says, "Hey. I'm not going to eat all this sub sandwich. You want half?" or "Hey. We're cooking out tonight. Want to come over?" and really, it's your best chance for a meal that your poor-butt best not turn it down.
"Heterosexual Life Partner." Young straight men, when "BFF" just isn't enough.
Advice on dating: "It's good to be the cuter one. It gives you all kinds of power." Followed up by "I've never dated anyone cuter than me. Well, I'm pretty cute and I never dated anyone who had more cuteness potential than me. Like, he may have tried harder to be cute, and sometimes I'm kind of grubby, so it kind of equaled out. But I always had more cuteness potential."
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
I just received an employee award for community service! It sounds cheesy, but I'm so excited! They came in my office (while I was typing a personal email to MyFella) clapping and carrying on, and said I had won a shining star for my service to the nursing home. A friend-girl co-worker 'V' nominated me.
I thought it was odd that one of my employees had asked me if I would be here at 11 because someone wanted to call back and talk about groups for 2009, but you know my clients can be so odd that I really didn't over think that.
I've got a new name badge with little stars on it that says "Shining Star of the Quarter Community Service" and I get a primo parking spot for 3 months (THREE MONTHS!) because it's a quarterly award, and I got a little check (going straight to November rent!). And when they have the next employee luncheon, I think I get a little statue thing.
How cool huh? You know, I'm usually so "over" so much stuff. But this has just made my day. I'm so like "This is the best place to work EVER!"
Saturday, October 4, 2008
It's a shame, but it's the truth. Every time I pass the adult costume rack at Target, I stop. Flip through and find it. . . run my fingers on the fabric. . . look at the size and the price and sigh wistfully before walking away.
Sunday, September 28, 2008
To further continue celebrating the holiday known as "my birthday", my friends G & Bev took me to lunch at the Arcade.
OK, to be honest, yes, I set it up. I was like, "Let's go to lunch." But the way I see it, if you really want something for your birthday (like lunch with G&Bev at the Arcade) it's ok to take the steps to get it. That they happened to buy my lunch for me (a yummy sandwich of thick slices of honey ham with sliced pear and aoili mustard) was just a bonus.
Afterwards, I took my cousinette M.F. to Wiles-Smith Drug Store for a homemade milk shake. There's just not a better one in the city.
I'll be wrapping up festivities today with a family dinner shared with my brother. I got to go get him a present on my way out of town.
Friday, September 26, 2008
I picked up my cousin M.F. on Friday night and brought her to the apt. long enough to show her around, then leave her Saturday. She came to town to work on a project, sort of. I think she really came to town to get out of our small hometown.
Then zip I headed off to MyFella's to begin the week. Sunday morning we popped up early and hit the road to Pigeon Forge. We discovered that we vacation well together. We both like and dislike similar things. We'll gladly pay to go into a theme park and spend the day happily walking through exhibits, museums, shows, etc. And we'll gladly go to a dinner show and watch the trick riders.
But tourist shopping? We'll pass. Gatlinburg was a bit of a bust for us. Just row after row of touristy shopps with a few places in between to pay and go in and see. . . whatever.
Late one night we did a wee bit of touristy shopping to pick up a souvenir t-shirt for Jamie, and we're both a sucker for a book store anywhere, anytime. But we wanted to go see, go do, not go shop. So all that tourist shop-crap just wasn't our thing.
Did I mention the people up there were super friendly?
Back in town yesterday to go to a friend's house. A friend of mine died, a beautiful lady we'll call D. She was 70, and her suffered through illness the last few months that included a fast spiral into Alzheimer's and a horrible weakening of her body. I haven't asked the particulars, but I think she died with her daughter and grandson near her. So I made it to the house yesterday afternoon to spend a little time with them. The visitation is tonight, and I've offered to pick up a few inbound relatives at the airport. Funeral is tomorrow. She's going into one of those wall-mausoleums. I said it sounded very classy and very "like D." She said she had thought so too when the idea came up.
Last night to the fair, and not one decent photo op out of it. J&K picked us up, and even treated us to tix! K blew her recent uber-healthy organic diet by feasting on every fair food item she could see. Spiral potato chips, pineapple whip, pronto pup, roasted corn, chicken tenders, chicken on a stick (which is different from the honey roasted chicken tenders). About the only thing we somehow skipped was a funnel cake.
If M.F. would wake on up, I'd treat us to some Wiles-Smith for breakfast. But if not, I can probably do it tomorrow. I've got lunch with two of my all-time faves at 11:30 downtown to celebrate my birthday!
Sunday I'm going home for the family supper we missed last weekend. I've got to think of something to buy my brother for his birthday. Wow. By the time Monday comes, I'm going to need some time off just to relax from my vacation!
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
Once I turned on my phone, I received a plethora of voice mails and text messages and what-not. All the birthday-love I love to receive. I know it sounds greedy of me, but I hope there are some birthday cards in the mail when I get home! I always love to have a phone call from my Moma on my birthday. I had voice mails of song singing from my nephews.
And a Dolly Parton theme it was. We found the Dolly World attraction and my half price tickets were waiting on me. The off season crowd was light, but everything was open. So if you want to ride the roller coasters, you don't have to stand in line. We meandered through the whole day. Had lunch at Lillian's Chicken Buffet or something like that, where MyFella got his hair blessed by Lillian and her chicken. She said he had good hair.
We didn't ride the rides. Between MyFella being a skeerdy cat and my back still feeling a bit out of whack, we just went without this time.
My friend-girl through work met us at Dixie Stampede last night and gave us tickets. So we really enjoyed the dinner and show there. MyFella laughed at the way I ate chicken with my fingers. It's a good, fun show and a good time.
It was a very good day.
Monday, September 22, 2008
Our ride up to the Smoky Mountains was fairly uneventful, even nice. We had only one tiny argument, and my biggest disappointment was that he doesn't like Meatloaf, so I didn't play that c.d. I like to use road trips to listen to favorite old c.d.'s.
The hotel is something I am going to stress over and over as a positive. I had a gift certificate for free 2 nights. So for two free nights, I'm going to stress happiness. I'm hearing there was some remodeling a few years ago, and I didn't perceive a recent remodel. What I have found is that it is very clean and the people are very friendly, and there's no sign of anything being worn or ratty. Is it their fault someone has bad taste in decorating and my room is filled with an odd assortment of faux-Native American designs?
Let me tell you - there's an indoor pool. Whatever else goes on, there's an indoor pool that's open til midnight. I even went to W-M hoping to find a "noodle" in the close-out section. I'm thrilled 'bout that!
Last night we just rode up and down the tourist strip going in a few touristy joints. We ate a supper of sandwich in the room before going back to the pool. You know I just love swimming.
But today is my Dolly Parton birthday! Dollyworld opens at 10a.m. and we have half price tickets, and then tonight we are meeting a sort-of work friend at Dolly Parton's Dixie Stampede! So it's going to be a Dolly Parton themed birthday! This could be the best birthday ever!
*The work friend got us free tickets! So that's dinner and a show for free. The only catch is the girl is stuck going with us to get the free tix. I told her how much I appreciated it, especially since I'm sure she's seen it all before. But as a thank-you, I got my boss (who rocks!) to give me one of the signed cookbooks she has in her office and I've got her a little coffee mug and I'm making her a 'happy' out of it all.
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While I adamantly said, "I'm not mad or bitter about this, MyFella kept saying, "You sound mad and bitter." So I'm going to say that I realize it's impossible to write this (or say it out loud) without sounding mad and bitter.
So there's your bitter alert for this posting.
"Here" she said and was handing me the phone. I said, "Who is it?" She said, "E." I said, "I'm not taking that call." She said into the phone, "I think he's mad at you." I said, "I'm not 'mad.' "
Come home from Iraq or Afghanistan or where ever it is you are and spend a month and don't call me, the first time I won't even think about it. Or the second. But the fourth time? OK, OK. Two times I won't count because you had an intensely personal reason, so I'll give you those two. If you want me to believe you spent the full 30 days so deeply consumed by the personal emotion of a tragedy with some of your friends - I will believe you. I've got no problem with that.
I've told you before, I don't have to be first. I know you have a lot of family and a lot of friends who want your time when you're home. I'll take second. I'll share. You made it all the way from the Middle East, I'll drive to you.
I'll even give you this: I know you are young and handsome and would rather spend your time with young pretty girls and young handsome men than with your old, fat, fag cousin. I got ya, I understand. Just call. Or tell your Mom and aunt to cook a family supper one night. I'll share.
But come home four times in a row, don't call me at all? In fact, tell me by MySpace two months ago you were coming home on the 22nd for a month, and then actually come home a month earlier, and the night you are leaving, as you are driving to the airport, tell somebody to hand me the phone because I happen to be sitting near them. . . in a crowded and noisy restaurant where I really can't talk with you anyway.
I'll be second place. What I won't be is second hand, second rate, second thought.
Doesn't change how much I love you. Doesn't change that I will answer the phone of it rings right now. Or when you come back, I'll still share, take a phone call, etc. But I have people who think of me first. I have people who enjoy my company and call me. I have people who come to town and make the point of seeing me. So I know what it feels like.
I won't be second hand, second rate, second thought.
*Told you. It would read like drama*
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Friday, September 19, 2008
It was good to be back. Good to be us. Good to feel like the smile and the laugh were sincere, and meant for me, and not just in a room I happened to be in. It was good to see her the way I used to see her, and hoping she saw me the way she used to see me.
Maybe that's enough of a blog. It's never felt so good to lose something.
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
Quite possibly the hottest-built-man-alive.Wearing the muscle-style t-shirt under his white t-shirt. Thick, body building neck, black hair, cannons (not just guns, cannons) on his arms. Perfectly ratty jeans. Broad chest.
A little brunette hottie girlfriend who danced like a stripper girl to the stadium music. You know he's banging her like a screen door in a hurricane.
This picture doesn't do him justice. In fact, the shadow on his shirt seems to make him fat. But he wasn't. Trust me. It's just not so easy to take a good photo with my Razor phone in a crowd, and less so trying to move your camera around a bunch of fans in a stadium.
Monday, September 15, 2008
Sunday, September 14, 2008
She's also been known as a bit of . . . a . . . frugal person. The kind to order "soup and a coke" then say, long before the rest of the group are finished, "I've got to go, I can't wait on the waitress. Can you pay my check for me? Thanks" and dash off. Not bothering to toss you a five to pay for the check.
She's . . . well, she's a pearl.
He is also one of the first friends I made when I moved here. He was part of the group that I moved into at my fave-eating-place. He's had a key to my apartment. We've been out to eat. I've done my best to get him complimentary fare at my varied employers so he could impress who-ever.
So. Why. You. Gonna. Do. Me. Like. That? I run into him at the festival yesterday, and go to hug him and he sticks out his hand to shake mine. I push on, introducing him to MyFella and Jamie, and he says in response "I think you should shop there" - pointing at the booth where we are which has a variety of costumes on display. And then? He's gone. Completely walked off. Didn't introduce us to whoever the young hottie with him was, didn't say goodbye, just disappeared as fast as he could.
So how come I'm thrilled to see you, but you treated me like an old neighbor from a poor subdivision?
Sigh. It's not like I'm surprised he's shallow and wants to be with whoever his pretty friend is. I just didn't realize he'd turn his back on me so quick. We'll see what I'll remember the next time I get a coupon for a free meal. That'll teach him!
Anyway, there's this one about football games at a particular Mississippi college. It talks about how the women dress up, how the boys where khaki's, how they hide whiskey in flaks versus . . . I suppose yankee's going to football games in old jeans and t-shirts drinking cheap beer. I haven't read it in a while, but it's out there.
Yesterday, in all my 39 years, was my first time to go to a game at this college, just over an hour away. All the rumors? They're true.
Tents all in the grassy areas with people set up like they are catering meals. It's all family, so if you don't know someone, you don't get none. I swear to you, CABLE DISHES and FLAT SCREEN TV's set up. Chafing trays (the expensive ones, not the cheap, throw-away aluminum ones). Girls in high heels. Men in khaki's. It was. . . . unique, to say the least. Take the concept of tail-gating, throw it away, and just start with "hosting a lawn party." Lots of them. One after one after one, row after row, after row.
Last home game? Someone cut the rope marking off the band's practice area to set up more tents. (Not that they wouldn't KNOW the band practiced there before the game, mind you.) So the band director sent someone out to buy yards and yards of chain metal, painted security yellow. Ha, cut that!
To be normally expected, lots of college pride colors, logo's, emblems, etc. But this is how invasive they are - the college paints rows in the grass and puts up signs that say something like "EMERGENCY PATH - DO NOT FILL" and "STAY OFF THIS GRASS" because if you didn't, there would be no paths. They just pop up next to each other into infinity. All over the place.
And booze? Well, they said last year and years before you could smell it on the breeze. This year there's a new mandate that you can't have it. But security can't sip your cup or open your cooler if there's a lock on it. So just don't show it. Kind of funny.
The whole thing was kind of funny, really. I'll see if I can find that email joke somewhere. Too True.
The best college game story I've got is drunk-white-boy standing 3 feet away. The band is in their warm-up spot just playing little warm-up diddys (once upon a time I knew the correct term for them) and there's these 3 guys next to me. All well into their enjoyment of the intoxicating evening.
One of them must work at some chain store, he struck me as the type, and his 'boss' is in the band playing the trombone. So drunk boy is heckling his boss with great lines like "You can SLIDE one in me!" and "You can BLOW me!" Him and his two buddies just howl with laughter.
A fellow bandmate turns around, a young black gentleman, and looks at them. Heckler, who up to this moment has just been mildly drunk and not particularly annoying yet, says, "Hey! It's all about the love! You wantsum? Cause I don't do black guys!"
Uh. The pause from his drunk-white-heckler-pals, the look on the black guy's face, it's clear. There was a little line there, and you just stepped over it. Maybe not intentional, your mouth was just running faster than your brain. But you did it. You stepped over it.
He yells "I'm not racist, I'm just scared!" Young black band guy changes to sort of a smile and a shake of his head and turns around. Drunk guy says, "It was the only thing I could think of."
One of his pals says, "I'll tell that story for years."
I said, "Yeah, I will to."
It would of been a great story, too, if the three heckler drunks had stopped there. But they kept heckling their pal long after it stopped being funny. Oh well.
They weren't particularly really cute, but the great thing about college aged guys is even the ugly ones are cute. Here's a little snap of a drunk, white, straight boy whose not racist, just scared.
This is NOT my secret. It's not my card. I didn't think of it. Can't take credit for it. But it's how I feel every single time I make the drive to his house, then turn around and drive back 2 days later. It is, I always hope, how he feels on Sunday afternoons when he gets back to his home.
Saturday, September 13, 2008
I liked leaving notes on my door that said, "No. The car left in the street is not mine. Please don't knock" after a couple of years of having go-rounds with vendors. One year they just popped their tent over the car and set stuff up on it. Gotta do what you gotta do.
Well, we're going to the festival this morning. It's just a little hurtful to my sense of sentiment that I have to DRIVE!
But at least we're here together. And at least we had fun tonight with an "old style" gathering of friends at "our place." It was just like back in the day, when we were young and single and had (we thought) more money than we knew what to do with. When we could just order "another" and then do it again. When we closed the place down. (I left early when Jamie got tired, some body else might have closed the place down. Red's jeep is still parked outside where it was when she came by here.)
Thursday, September 4, 2008
This morning they took the blood for lab works to make sure the cholesterol pills aren't ruining my liver, to make sure I'm doing some good with lowering my sugar, etc. Let's keep our fingers crossed on the results.
Back went out, did I tell you? Two weeks ago. Chiropractor doctor's been giving it to me good. He's cute, in his own way. I'm not attracted to him, but he's fairly young and nice.
Best thing to come out of campaign rhetoric lately is Sarah's husband. What a cutie he is.
Watched the two episode season closer from last season's House. You know I'm a House fan by association. My friends J&K watch it, so I watch it with them. I knew I had to catch last season's closer on rerun so I would be ready for the new season. The first of the two part episode was arguably the worst & best written. Kind of funny, kind of out there, didn't make sense, too much of House's attitude and not enough good writing but at the same time very out of their normal box. Then the second episode - emotional roller coaster that had me bawling my eyes out at the end. So there I am, darned near 40 years old, crying in front of my friends after dinner, just sniveling at poor Amber.
I got to get a grip on that stuff.
Thursday, August 28, 2008
It's better now, and I'm going to keep trying to work on it. You know, I've never dated one person continuously for this length of time. There was the guy I dated off and on for 4 calendar years, but we only dated in increments averaging 4 months. We were never particularly close - although for all the emotion and drama and baggage at the time, you would have thought. . . . .I don't know what you would have thought. I could have starred alongside Sally Fields in some Lifetime movie for all the carryin' on we did. But this is different - two guys, one relationship, consistent and continuous. Now that takes some getting used to! Sigh.
I am still annoyed at Netflix. After suffering with all their other customers through the loss of a week's worth of shipments, I call them to figure out what's up with my MI-5 dvd. It sat at the 'shipping today' spot for days, then jumped back down to first spot in the que. The boy on the line told me that dvd was very popular and the shipping trouble had kept the system from really knowing how many were available. As an apology, he popped out another dvd of mine, supposedly. But not really. So I had dvd's out of a series coming in a completely wrong order while that first one continued to sit there. The bam dastards. So now I know how Tom Quinn dies at the end of the season, but there's still two episodes from earlier in the season at the house to watch. Ugh!
In a vain attempt at hope for Tom Quinn (who, and I swear this to you, I dreamed about night before last), I went ahead and added season 3 and popped dvd 1 to the top. Then snuck a peek at the box top. No Tom Quinn. But that damned Harry is right there on the cover. Oh why could he not have died?
Saturday, August 23, 2008
Last night, I had dinner with my friend Red and her best pals M&Somebody. M is bald, gay, a hair dresser, and fabulous. And Somebody's name I can never remember. But two margaritas gave me more relief than I felt all day. Before falling into bed, I took my pills and fell fast asleep until 6a.m.
Between 6a.m. and 7:30a.m. I struggled heartily to get out of bed and pee. It was beyond painful. A little after 8, Red had found a chiropractor who was open, and after a useless call to the insurance card #, I just went on. I needed help.
The pain is now tolerable, in part because I keep moving and try not to over do it, but also try not to get stiff. It could be a combination of the drugs settling in as well as the chiropractic visit. I am taking another set of pills at 3. Let's hope that does well for me.
Ooooh that was a mistake. Using the only position the doctor said provides relief off that area (on back with feet against the wall), I stayed there with the ice pack about an hour. Getting up ~ uh, a total beotch again. Lost all the ground I've gained. Got a feeling tomorrow morning will be a total beotch too.
11:30p.m. and I just took the pills. I think I'm going to try and support my lower back with some towels or pillows, and sleep in the recliner. I don't know that it'll be good for my back, but it can't be any worse getting up in the morning.
Thursday, August 21, 2008
MyFella is all upset over the goings-on in his family, including just finding out that his ex-brother-in-law from a very recent divorce to MyFella's sister left her name on some, uh, rather demanding documents financially. Sister apparently didn't read well, hired a cheap attorney, or was just rather stupid about some things coming out of the divorce, and got a call this week that the ex dropped over dead in his truck. . . leaving her rather screwed. Idiot didn't even use Credit Life on these fairly substantial matters. So he's dead and she's screwed. Word from dead guy's son in law is the family has gone completely mad, white trash, fussing and fighting, etc. and it's bound to spill over to Sister when they come looking for some of his crap he didn't take care of. And MyFella's all upset about it. We talked with my attorney friend last night who gave a little bit of advice, most of which involved 'Run to an attorney TOMORROW!'
I'm trying to last minute plan using a 2 night gift certificate in Pigeon Forge that expires next month. I think we'll end up having to take two days off during the week, because our weekends are just booked with festivals, ball games, visitors, etc. But I do hope we get on up there for a get away. I've had the certificate for near a year. Shame on me!
Red is coming this weekend, and I'm being included on emails regarding a Bunco game. Lawzy, but I do hope I'm just being included as an f.y.i. and not as an invitation. I've been to their Bunco games, and they just get mean.
The parents are coming to town next weekend. Mom's asked me to take them to lunch and then take her to shopping. Dad's got his own itinerary after lunch, and she's pleased to let him go do his own running around. We usually go to the same restaurant (it' right around the corner from Noodle's house). It's locally owned home cooking and it's usually good. For MyFella, I've put it out on the table. MyFella can take the weekend off and save gas if he chooses.
I had the nicest surprise night with Noodle (I really should take the time to learn how to link) and the Urchins. No great photo's. I called Noodle on the way home from work. Noodle invited me to dinner and she was making bbq chicken, fried squash (double yum!), pasta, toast with fresh sour dough bread (yum!) and left over green bean casserole (which has recently become a total fave of mine!). I asked about Skeeter and he was going to be late, which was going to keep her from going to a home schooler's meeting. To me, a home cooked supper is more than fair trade for keeping my own godchildren a couple of hours, so after supper I shoo'd her on out the door. Sass and I read a few books and then she played on the Wii fit. Spyder played outside. I declined the invitation to climb into his well hid hideaway, but only because I was wearing work pants. I've promised to accept the invitation when I am in jeans or shorts next. Skeeter showed up only about an hour later, and I headed home to do my walk.
Oh, yes, and I lied on a document last night. Joining a local gym, I really only wanted to walk for a few minutes with a friend of mine. Stupid enough to answer a survey truthfully, they wanted me to get a doctor to sign some document. So I marked through my answers, changed them, initialed them, and went for my walk. They have an olympic sized swimming pool (not quite the Chinese birdnest, but still quite nice) so I think if I go back at all, it may be to get wet. I love to play in the water. But the gym is more than a bit out of my way. So while I don't feel guilty for lieing, I also doubt I'll return any time soon.
Weather's been cooler and I like it. Still have tiny bugs in my apartment. I've got some tacky fly strips up. MyFella says there's something called Dairy Barn Spray at Tractor Supply that will wipe them out, but that's a fair drive to the nearest TSC. I may try to get out there this weekend.
Just finished my morning Diet Coke. OMG, they're so good cold out of the can. **Walt, I envy you the ability to go cold turkey and stay off them. Truth is, when I try to go to zero, I end up craving them super bad and go back on them in like a month's time. But I found if I limit myself to two a day, it's easy to do, especially during the week. It's a little harder on weekends because I am more likely to be in a restaurant and order a Diet Coke and get a refill. But since weekdays often pass with just one, I feel like it evens out.
Oh well, back to work.
Sunday, August 17, 2008
When I saw him, it reaffirmed my belief in things greater in me, and it reaffirmed my belief that I am truly gay.
OhMyGawd. Obviously, from the 3 pics in my camera, I tried desperately to get a good pic of him, including a brief sojurn through the store stalking him. He was/is tall with dark hair, and had sort of a 'frat boy from hell' look. Frat boys aren't built like this. Frat boys don't have tats like this. Frat boys don't wear ripped and shredded shirts like this.
He had on the typical popular basketball shorts, they were sagging just a little or his boxers were riding high. They were visible because he had his shirt absolutely ripped. The front seemed full, but the back was thin, maybe an inch across, and the sides were missing. He has a ripped body and tats on his left shoulder blade. You know that gasp when you see a guy like that, the way your heart starts pounding, the way thoughts of sin and flesh and desire fill your mind and body. I had sin in my heart. I coveted him. Oh my.
He walked out of the store ahead of me and jumped into another store. So I viewed the parking lot and decided the white truck was probably his. I moved my car (how gay is that! or stalker? you say stalker like it's a bad thing) to get a better view. My litte razer phone didn't do me well in a need to take a fast pic, but I was surprised at the little car this tall guy into. And leaned over to roll down the window.
Sigh. What a pretty sight on a Sunday afternoon.
It turned into a weekend I'm calling a Three Musketeer weekend. Just us guys. Went where we wanted, did what we wanted. Well, sometimes Jamie said, "I'm not going" but he went anyway. I think Jamie sometimes likes to put his foot down on principle, just to show he can.
Friday night, I had talked with a few different sets of people about joining us, and 1 family made other plans, and another texted us that she wouldn't get there in time so she'd see us on Saturday. For some reason, that just set me off and I told MyFella I had no intention of doing anything with her. I guess probably because I knew, in my heart, she's always someone who cancels and never calls back anyway. On Thursday night, a friend called and said she wanted to see us, but she could only see us on Saturday because "I go to estate sales every Sunday." Well, I've heard that before, and good for you, but two times in a row to tell me you "go to estate sales every Sunday" is just one too many. I'm not sure why that hit my raw nerve. After all, she called and wanted to see us on Saturday. And in the past, I've locked out Monday nights for Margaritas for over two solid years, and currently I have standing supper & tv on Tuesdays with J&K (but grant me this one, if someone wants to feed you every single week, would YOU gripe about which night? besides, for half the year it's A.I. night). But anyway, I had no intention of giving up time for her either. Though I don't really understand why I was annoyed at her so.
But looking back, we ended up with a very nice, very rare 3 Musketeer weekend. Church and lunch today at my favorie pizza place. It's good (the thin crust, so if you like it N.Y. style you won't care for it) and inexpensive and they're generous with the toppings (hormel brand meats, the sign says). They got real busy real fast today, just after we arrived, so the waitress went from being fun and funky to being just lousy.
Just a good weekend all around. No relatives, no schedules or time tables. It was cool.
On other fronts, related and not:
I have a renewed interest in the Wizard of Oz and just checked the book out from the library (it's a shame that I'm an adult and had trouble finding the book!). I'm also confused about the apparent lack of Dorothy in Wicked. I'll have to review that, or ask somebody if she shows up later somehow.
These damned flying insects in the apartment are bothering me. MyFella insists they are in his home too and more to do with the season than my plants.
Netflix has been a bother, but they swear they are sending things out now.
Secret postcards today made me cry, the story about the wedding proposal. Brought a tear to my eye.
Red is coming this weekend and bringing her dog. She thinks my apartment is pet friendly. I would rather it not be, but there you go. In the end, he doesn't bother me too much. In a few weeks, for C-Y Festival, both she and Chaz are trying to come home. I already called Chaz to see how he'll be if I skip out part of the day. MyFella wants to go to the university to see his favorite niece march in her last football game. MyFella and I have come up with a plan to compromise the weekend so we both get part of what we want, but I thought Chaz would have every right to be annoyed if he made it all the way from Vegas and I leave town. He said it was fine with him, that I'm in a relationship now and have to make compromises. Besides, plenty of people are willing to fill up his time.
Good Sunday to you! Oh, and here's a pic of the 3 musketeers. It was taken by the waitress and the light is way-tha-f off. Ugh.
Saturday, August 16, 2008
Turns out it's "from India" Indian, not natives to the American continent. But he said he knew that. Anyway, we enjoyed it, I think, it was cerainly different. Let me tell you what I don't get: all, and I mean almost every single one, of the women are beautiful. The men, however, are a different story.
Those darned bugs? Yeah, they're still here. MyFella has offered to take the plants back to his place and put them on his porch until the darned bugs die. I swear, bugs are not supposed to live this long.
Right now we're watching the Superhero movie, which is a horrible spoof off of Spiderman. Not even a good spoof so far.
The movie starts in sepia, although my memory is in black and white. The brownish tones were a surprise to me (though a bit of reading on Wikipedia cleared that up). Here's the biggest thing from the eyes of an adult:
Glenda the good witch, she's really a bit of a bitch. First she gives shoes to Dorothy knowing good and well that the wicked witch will want them, then she sends Dorothy off on a dangerous trip without any help. And she tells her the munchkins will see her to the end of munchkin land, which is all of 15 feet. Well beotch! Big fat lot of help you are.
Aside from that, it was quite fun to watch the movie again as an adult.
So, OK, if you are stuffed with hay, why would you leave any of it? Dorothy and the Scarecrow leave a big pile of it in the road.
How many horses were used to be "a horse of a different color"? The walk and prance changed.
Wikipedia says the bad witch was burned in the special effects of her taking off (the puff of reddish smoke and flame, I suppose).
It is quite a fun movie to watch, and more so on the big screen, giving it the forum it deserves.
Quite a fun night for all of us.
Thursday, August 14, 2008
Until last night at W-M, when I realized the 3 piece, non-stick, Faberware skillet set is only about $26. Guess what he's getting for his birthday next month.
Sunday, August 10, 2008
It has started. I love it. Whatever else my life may have at the time, I love the signs and portents. The light changes in a way I can not describe, but I know it when I see it, as if it has a slant to it, a tint, a modest hue. The cicadas sing. There is a difference, even when the temperature tells you otherwise. The differences herald the beginning of the school season, the time when students sweat in lines for the classes and the p.e. practices and the football season begins. And this, my friends, precede the date that should be a national holiday known as "My Birthday."
How odd that the beginning of school should always, always, remind me of my birthday. Primary color balloons, yellow cakes, presents. It is a day of great magic to me. Still is.
September cometh. You got plenty of time to buy gifts!
MyFella is the guy I've (consistently) dated the longest (either 2 years, or 2 1/2 years depending on how you want to count it). I have never before taken a guy home. It's been decades since I've taken a girl home, and one time a guy came to see me. But that was a very long time ago.
I took him home. No fanfare. No calls ahead. He asked more than once in the last week, "Did you tell them?" Uh, no. I'm not giving anyone any time to THINK about anything.
My dad? I think he likes him more than me. Oh yeah, sure, it's just because MyFella rides horses and loves anything western. But still, my dad is a little on the ornery side. He's not taken by many people. But if you want to discuss who is a better movie cowboy, Gene Autry or Roy Rogers, you are apparently 'in like flynn' whatever that means. And all the better that you can talk about the different kinds and colors of horses, and you'd just as soon spend Sunday afternoon watching an old Western as anything else.
And the rest of the family? Guess who helped cooked burgers AND helped get the kids rounded up to play football at the nephew's birthday party? Yeah, him. There were these flags and tires and things and I just had no idea what they were for (duh on me, it's not like I've never watched a movie with a scene about football training, it just didn't dawn on me that's what this stuff was for) and MyFella just put them in two lines and took them to practicing/playing/competing for about 15 minutes and then rounded up the gang on the field to break into teams and play ball.
It's one thing for your friends or your family to like him better than you. But both? That's a bit much, come on. I feel The Universe laughing at me.
That's a bit of people watching. I had done it years ago and forgotten the unique mix of humanity. Like I couldn't figure out the dryer (though it was incredibly easy) and this guy of probably Hispanic descent pointed and pushed a button I got the feeling he couldn't speak English, but he could tell I didn't know how it worked. I smiled and said "Thank you."
Mix of young and mature, white, black, Hispanic, male, female. It's interesting.
Worst comment about someone I don't know: She said, "I just want to die." About a lady in a nursing home where a friend had finished a shift as a nurse.
Worst comments about someone I do know: "She's kind of mean. Has a 'thick tongue.' Sometimes I try to sneak in and check on her without her seeing me." She was a wonderful, fun, light hearted lady. Quick to bake, and known to be just a wee bit nosy, but she was not discriminatory in that way. She'd call any house that had a car in the driveway she did not know.
Thing I should have done: Just stopped by my brother's on the way out of town to say bye. (They read the blog. I did not delete history after using their laptop one night. So I won't comment further).
Inbound: Photo - looks like a bumper car
Outbound: Who is that?
Inbound: re re
Inbound: Pizza place yaw want us to bring marissa home after
Outbound: I don't know anyone with that name Are you sure you're texting the right number
Pause, about ten minutes
Inbound: My bad
Sweetest thing: MyFella stayed later than he wanted to go with me, at his insistence, to the laundrymat and got all my stuff done.
Best meal: Mom's crockpot pot roast. Her pot roast is almost always spot-on. This one was real good. Falls apart with a fork. Meaty flavor. Potatoes get brown. She made sweet tea. Usually she asks me now and I go for unsweet and just use the blue stuff, because, you know, "border line diabetic" and all that crap. But I got to admit, sometimes (often) the best thing in the world, especially with a real homemade meal, is Mom's sweet tea.
Most annoying: Tiny little gnats jumped from over ripe bananas to house plants. The damnable things won't die! My Raid "House & Garden" spray just slows them down. I don't know what to do!
Saturday, August 9, 2008
Friday, August 8, 2008
My friend stuck in the divorce asked her daughter a few weeks ago to please make plans for last night, as it was her anniversary, arguably her last ever, and she wanted to not be stuck at home. She wanted to go out with a friend or friends, her daughter, etc.
Whether it's right or wrong, whatever, it's what she wanted. Daughter was all "yeah, yeah, we'll have fun." I get the call last night (oops, I had forgotten too) and she wanted me to be her date for drinks with her daughter and the daughters boyfriend. I said, "I'm going to be hungry, so we need to plan food."
Friend was all dressed up when I got there. She'd borrowed a cute blouse and had one tight jeans and good shoes. And a few calls later, it was clear that daughter didn't really care and didn't really care to be involved. They were going here, or maybe they were going there, and they were going with these people, and that girl, etc. But, yeah yeah, come here with us.
Sure, we'll drive an extra 25 minutes out of the way to sit in a restaurant where you can ignore your mother. That made for a wonderful night out.
Just tell your mom no. Or I'm sorry. Or whatever. But I got news for you- continuous texts and messages about how much you would like to see her, without actually making any effort to see her, yeah, she can see through that. Ugh. Eyes rolled to the back of my head.
P.S. A few hours later: I called the daughter about a potential surprise I'm working on, and she confided in me that she doesn't like being with her mother when her mother is like out on the town. Well, duh. lol At least now I know and can work to avoid those evenings.
My first problem? They came out way too fast for me to believe they were fresh cooked for me. In fast food you want food fast, but in a place where you disappear to the back, I want to at least pretend the food's not sitting in a great big bucket already made. (Exception would be buffet or meat and 3 kind of places where obviously they have to make a big pot of mashed potatoes). But at someplace that's similar to a Chilli's or whatever, I want to think that you cooked my food when I asked for it.
My second problem? The many sauces to choose from idea is good, but the sauces should actually be good. We had parmesan garlic. Since we like parmesan and garlic, it seemed like a good choice. Blech!
My third problem? Well, it's subjective, but isn't everything. How much sauce is enough, and what is it supposed to do? Enhance and improve the flavor? Overpower? Just be a big gooey mess? Ugh!
There's just nothing good about this place. I'm not even going to try.