If we think about the obvious long enough, it dissolves

Stating the obvious . . . am I only one who finds this annoying? 

The other day I was at a store buying canning supplies . . . lids, jars, etc . . . and the cashier ringing up my order asked me, “Are you going to be doing some canning?”  “No” I reply “I’m jarring up some moonshine”.  What in the hell do you think I’m doing, a$$hat??

And, again . . . I rode my motorcycle to work and someone intelligently remarks . . . "you road your motorcycle to work today".  No?  Really?

And, then, another day I was at the gym and someone recognized me and asked, “Are you back at the gym”  “No” I reply “I’m a figment of your imagination”.  To be fair I haven’t been to the gym in a coon’s age but still . . . sheesh.

Segue . . . coon’s age is an expression dating back to the early 1800’s.  It refers to the longevity of a raccoon . . . which can live up to 7 years in the wild and 15 years or more in captivity.  For those of you uncomfortable with the term ‘coon’ thinking it a derogatory term for black people, you can use the expression ‘dog’s age’.  A dog’s lifespan is comparable to a raccoons and this phrase is probably more common anyway.  But I come from the sticks and thus I refer to country bumpkinisms. 

Anyhoo . . . back to the point.  I’m not sure if people just say stuff to have something to say, because they like the sound of their own voice or because they think other people are stupid.

If you are in a conversation with me, don’t feel the need to tell me something I already know.  Yes, I can see its raining.  Yes, the sky is blue.  Yes, I know I’m beautiful. 

Whatever the case . . . if you don’t have anything to say then, don’t.  It’s not a social imperative to have a talk to people. 

Just sayin’.

Cher's Tomato and Basil Bruschetta

6 Roma Tomatoes, diced
1/2 Vidalia Onion, chopped
2 Cloves Garlic, chopped
6 Tablespoons Olive Oil, separated
1 Tablespoon Balsamic Vinegar
3 tablespoons Chopped Fresh Basil
1/2 Teaspoon Kosher Salt
1/4 Teaspoon Fresh Cracked Pepper
8 Slices Italian Bread, cut about 1" thick
1/2 Cup Fresh Shredded Parmigiano-Reggiano Cheese


Whisk together chopped garlic, vinegar, salt, pepper, and basil.  When combined slowly drizzle in 3 tablespoons of the olive oil.


Add tomatoes and onion.  Let sit for 20 minutes at room temperature.


Add the remaining olive oil to a skillet and warm over medium-high heat.  Brown the bread slices until both sides are golden. 


Top with tomato mixture and sprinkle on a little cheese.  Turn off the heat and cover to allow the cheese to melt a little.  


Serve immediately.

Let there be space in your togetherness

Can someone please tell me what’s so elusive about that concept of ‘personal space’?

I don’t know you . . . don’t touch me.  I barely know you . . . don’t hug me.  Hell, for that matter, don’t even talk to me!

I’ve had people approach me to discuss some topic or other.  That’s cool, I’m okay with that . . . for the most part.  It’s when they keeping coming to the point where I’m backing up  . . . and backing up . . . until I hit a wall and there’s no place left to go.  I nearly go into flight or fight mode.  The point is . . . I don’t need to know that you forgot to put on your deodorant that morning or that you ate a bushel of garlic for dinner last night.  Get out of my face!

In Western culture the generally accepted amount of personal space between two people who are not intimate is anywhere between 1.5 to 4 feet.  I would tend towards the further end of that spectrum.  There are other cultures where the idea of personal space has all but been eradicated do to crowded living conditions.  But that’s not here and that’s certainly not me!

There’s a reason I’m no longer a beautician and work with computers.  There’s by far . . . and beyond . . . less personal contact.  Guess what I like best about my bartending job . . .  the physical barrier.  That and if someone gets out of hand I can bop them on the head with a baton. 

Don’t get me wrong.  I don’t mind being touched.  It’s just a matter of whom I am being touch by.  Hubby . . . he can touch me all over . . . and over again . . . rowr.  My friends . . . friends not acquaintances . . . can be touchy, huggy . . . to a degree . . . and some more than others.   But, if I barely know you or don’t know you at all?  Step off, buddy!  And, if you're not sure where you stand then you probably shouldn't get too close.

Scientifically, there is a section of your brain that is hardwired to repel close human contact; except, of course, when sex is a possibility.   That is why, as far as I’m concerned, hubby has zero personal space . . . I’m all into that space as often as logistically possible.  Anyhoo . . . the reaction to be repulsed by close personal contact is thought to be a throw back to the days when someone would snatch your woman by the hair and drag her off to their cave . . . or your food. 

Consider this an education in personal space etiquette . . . and a warning.  

Stuffed Zucchini Casserole

2 Medium Zucchini, Chopped

1 Medium Onions, Minced

1 (7 Ounce) Cans Roasted Red Peppers, Chopped

1/2 Green Peppers, Chopped

2 Garlic Cloves

1 Tomato Chopped

1/4-1/2 Teaspoon Oregano

Salt And Pepper

3/4 Lb Ground Beef

Olive Oil

8 Slices Cheese

2 Tbsp Butter

1 Cup Bread Crumbs

Heat olive oil in a fairly large skillet.

Sauté garlic first, then add onions, green pepper, and oregano.

When the veggies begin to soften, add ground meat.  Season with salt and pepper, and brown until cooked through.

Drain off any excess grease. And put into a large bowl. 

Saute tomatoes in olive oil until they begin to soften.  Add to meat mixture.

Saute zucchini in olive oil until they start to brown.  Add to meat mixture.

Mix the meat mixture, tomatoes zucchini together.  Mix in roasted red peppers and cheese.   Pour into a 9x13 greased casserole dish.

Melt butter in a skillet and add the bread crumbs.  Mix thoroughly and spread overtop of zucchini casserole.

  

Bake in a 375ºF oven for 20-30 minutes, until heated through, and cheese begins to bubble and brown.

Serve hot.

Flattery is like chewing gum. Enjoy it but don't swallow it.

I know some people think it’s gross or it’s a bad habit, but I love chewing gum.  Yup, I admit it . . . I’m a chicle chomper.  Although, these days you’d be hard pressed to find a commercially manufactured chewing gum in the United States made out of this natural latex.  Nowadays, like many things, it’s cheaper to manufacture chewing gum out of a synthetic.

I love to blow bubbles and, as annoying as it is to other people, I really love to snap my gum.    My favorite bubble gum is Bubble Yum but I’ll settle for Bubblicious in a pinch.  But, I don’t normally get bubble gum, only because its so loaded with sugar.  I always keep some form of chewing gum at my disposal if for no other reasons than for a quick breath fresher upper or as a stop gap until I can get some food in my tummy.

I learned very early on not to swallow my gum.  most of us were told when we were kids that swallowed gum stay in our stomachs for up to seven years, since it’s not digestible. This is actually not true . . . gum will pass through your digestive system along food and make its exit with little or no fanfare at the end . . . or your end.


My younger years were greatly influenced by gum chewers.

Violet Beauregarde from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory fame was an avid gum chewer.  Unfortunately, it was her love of the confection that was also her downfall.   Violet is the third child to find a Golden Ticket and the second to be ejected from the tour. Her demise came when she swipes and then chews an experimental three-course meal gum. When it gets to the dessert, blueberry pie, she turns blue and begins to fill with juice, inflating into a human blueberry.

Another was feisty, gum-popping red-head named Florence Jean Castleberry from Cowtown, Texas.  Better known as Flo from the television series Alice.  Flo was a waitress at Mel's Diner in Phoenix, Arizona.  She was a seasoned waitress who was vivacious and flirty with the male customers.  I loved Flo’s feisty attitude and her famous catch phrases . . . "Kiss mah grits!!!", "When donkeys fly!!!" and "You bet your sweet patoot!"

Last, but certainly not least, was MacGyver.  MacGyver rocked!  He was as cute as the day is long and just as smart.  Give him a Swiss Army Knife, a roll of duct tape, a stick of chewing gum, a paper clip and just about anything else you can think of and this guy can get you outta trouble !! He could make a bomb and once repaired a blown fuse using the aluminum wrapper of a stick of chewing gum to bridge the blown fuse.  Did I mention he was cute?

What’s super cool is the world record for the largest bubble ever blown.  In 1994 Susan Montgomery Williams of Fresno, California stuck a bunch of gum in her mouth and blew a bubble. She blew and blew and blew until it became the largest bubblegum bubble in the world . . . a whopping 23 inches in diameter.

You know what I hate though?  Is when people stick their gum under tables and seat in public places.  Come on, people!  That’s just gross!

Roast Beef, Mushrooms and Onions


This is a great recipe to use for leftover roast beef.  Yummly!


1/2 Lb Sliced Mushrooms
1 Medium Onions, Sliced
2 Tablespoons Butter
3 Cloves Garlic
1 Tablespoon Olive Oil
1 Tablespoon Cooking Sherry
Roast Beef, Sliced Thin
1/2 Cup Shredded Fresh Parmesan Cheese


Melt the butter and olive oil together in a frying pan over medium heat.  Add the onions and season with Tony Chachere (or other seasoned salt); let them cook until they start to get soft.  Then add the mushrooms until they start to get a little brown and the onions are nice and soft, about 15 minutes.


Add the roast, sherry and salt.


Cook until most of the moisture has evaporated.


Mix in cheese and serve.

No ifs, ands or butts.

I have a bubble butt.  It’s true.  I’ve always had a lot of junk in my trunk . . . even when I was at my thinnest.  That’s the way nature saw fit to build me . . . and I can live with my bootiliciousness.  It’s all good.

That being said, I don’t overly love having such a big bondonkadonk.  So, I don’t get it when women want to augment their speed bumps.  I’m not talking about a lift or a tuck . . . I’m talking going from a tiny tushy to full-on big, honkin’ hind end.

If you haven’t heard of it, I’m not surprised . . . I only happened upon this recent trend in physical alterations quite by accident.  Frankly, I was dumbfounded.  I’ve never heard of any woman who actually wanted a fat ass.

After some poking around I found that there are two main options to get this procedure done. 

The first is silicone implants . . . it’s a balloon that is surgically implanted in your butt cheeks to make them bigger.  These balloons can shift and droop . . . causing an awkward looking dupey. 

The other is just as icky, if not worse.  It is called a Brazilian Butt Lift.  Basically, you get fat sucked from one part of your body and injected into your posterior region.  Supposedly, the fat is sterilized and only the finest quality blubber is used for the reinsertion but . . . ugh . . . ew!

Those are the medical ways . . . believe it or not there’s actually a black market for this type of procedure.  Why someone would get the equivalent of a medical procedure from someone in a hotel (or worse) is beyond me.

Is this atractive?  Am I missing something?

A recent trend of women are being hospitalized as a result of getting illegitimate arse augmentation.  The illicit unqualified quacks are injecting the derriere desperados with everything from petroleum jelly, Fix-a-Flat . . . which is somewhat ironic  considering 

. . .  to industrial caulk . . . yeah, that stuff you buy at home improvement stores as a sealant.  In case you didn’t know, caulk goes from a viscous material to a solid once it’s applied . . . and is also poisonous to humans if ingested.  Yeah, technically if its injected into your butt it’s not being ingested but its still inside your body so that can’t be good for you. 

Oh, by the way  . . . it’s not just women following this fad.

I’m sorry if this information is disturbing but I was feeling a bit cheeky.

Firewater Friday . . . Sangria

Sangria is Spanish for "bleeding", of course Sangria doesn't actually have blood in it.  It is the rich, red color of blood that matches the vibrant hue of the sangria drink. Sangria has been around for centuries in Europe, but it didn’t become popular in the United States until it was introduced to us at the 1964 World's Fair in New York.

Sangria is basically a red wine punch - a mix of wine, brandy, soda water and fresh fruits, served over ice.  Traditionally the base is claret or Bordeaux, which is a blend of cabernet sauvignon, cabernet franc and merlot. 

When making sangria it is best to let it chill overnight. This lets the fruit flavors blend into the drink.  When you’re ready to drink it, pour the sangria into a pitcher full of ice cubes, garnish with fresh fruit, and enjoy.

You can add almost any type of fruit to Sangria - apples, strawberries, raspberries, grapes and bananas.  Make it your own!  It’s all good

Enjoy the alcohol soaked fruit when you’re done drinking . . . NOMS! 

Making Sangria . . .  what you need:

1 (750-ml) bottle dry red wine

1/4 cup brandy

2 tablespoons fresh lime juice

1/2 cup fresh orange juice

1/2 unpeeled lemon, sliced

1/2 unpeeled large navel orange, sliced

1/2 cup sugar

1/2 cup water

1/2 cup brandy

1/2 cup triple sec or other orange liqueur

1 (750-ml) bottle sparkling water, chilled

Put wine, juice, and fruit slices in a heatproof pitcher. Bring sugar, water, brandy, and triple sec just to a simmer in a small saucepan, stirring until sugar is dissolved, then pour into pitcher. Chill, covered, at least 1 hour and up to 24.

When ready to serve, add the sparkling water

MArooned: Cool Gunnie Art...

MArooned: Cool Gunnie Art...

I've been blogged!!