Ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch cherry bomb!
Today, I made a significant discovery, and that is that Arby's drive-through opens at 9 am, and they don't serve breakfast food.
You must understand, there are some days I can make do with a bowl of cereal at my desk, or some eggs on a bagel from McDickless. But "breakfast food" isn't always my first choice in the morning, so it was with great delight that I discovered I can have a fresh roast-beef sandwich before I'm even fully awake.
Mom would be so proud.
Usually I dip my fries in Arby's sauce (a barbecue sauce), but I decided to go full-bore on the Horsey sauce today, just because I love it when the kid at the window asks if I need any extras, and I get to say "LOTS of Horsey sauce." And then I like to imagine how they get the sauce from the horsey...
Breakfast liked me as much as I liked it today.
Erotic curley fries aside, because now they're cold and that's just not sexy, there was serious business to which I needed to attend this morning, and that was preparation for an at-work baby shower held in honor of Balulah and her impending bundle of oy. Truthfully, my part of the preparation was to remember at the last minute to buy two-liters of pop and some ice. Oh, and I put stickers on plastic shot glasses that were then filled with pacifier-shaped hard candy. It was truly a terrifyin' experience for someone who's not exactly a girlie girl. Sorry, Balulah, you know you're like a little sis to me, but the room packed with hens freaked me out jest a tetch.
Come on, look at the centerpiece:
Sweet yodelin' baby jesus, that thing was huge! A poodle could jump through that loop - I almost expected an infant to pop out of it. How many others at the table stared at this nipplesque monstrosity in silent horror? I'm worried what our collective dreams will be tonight.
This is what my face looks like in the thick of a baby shower:
Don't get me wrong - I got nothin' against babies, or baby mommas, and I have every intention of being a very embarassing pseudo aunt to this particular child. But there's just somethin' about the whole ritual of showers, of the wedding or baby variety, that makes me feel like maybe I shoulda turned left at Albuquerque.
Maybe it's because I just finished Wicked (an excellent read which I heartily recommend), but I then felt the need to channel my inner wicked witch.
...and your little blog, too!
At this point, if you're even still awake, you're likely wonderin', "So is there a point here? Is your title bullhshit, or are you gonna cough up the Joan?"
I shall commence coughin'.
Joan Jett and the Blackhearts officialy rock. Joan is pushin' 50 and she's in such great shape it makes me hang my head and wish the gym was open all night.
I'll list what I can remember:
Joan don't give a damn about her bad reputation.
I would have been more adventurous with the camera, but it was raining during most of the show, and I had my camera in its case clutched under a sheet of plastic. Even my chaps could not ward off the rain.
Yes, I did indeed point the camera at my own crotch to snap a shot.
Joan rocked out for a little over an hour, and by the time the encore was over, the heavens were pissin' down on us pretty well. That made me a little sad, as we were at the county fair, and where there's a fair, there's a midway. I love the midway.
There is no desire in my cold heart to ride any of the rides set up by people who can't even keep track of where all their own teeth are. I don't wish to be cheated out of my money by the games. But I love the lights. The midway at night is one of my favorite visual feasts in the world.
Alas, the rain was too hard to even think about fishin' my camera out, so I grabbed a quick shot throught the windshield as we headed out. Maybe we can try again Saturday night. I just have to have a picture of the bumble bee ride.
You must understand, there are some days I can make do with a bowl of cereal at my desk, or some eggs on a bagel from McDickless. But "breakfast food" isn't always my first choice in the morning, so it was with great delight that I discovered I can have a fresh roast-beef sandwich before I'm even fully awake.
Mom would be so proud.
Usually I dip my fries in Arby's sauce (a barbecue sauce), but I decided to go full-bore on the Horsey sauce today, just because I love it when the kid at the window asks if I need any extras, and I get to say "LOTS of Horsey sauce." And then I like to imagine how they get the sauce from the horsey...
Breakfast liked me as much as I liked it today.
Erotic curley fries aside, because now they're cold and that's just not sexy, there was serious business to which I needed to attend this morning, and that was preparation for an at-work baby shower held in honor of Balulah and her impending bundle of oy. Truthfully, my part of the preparation was to remember at the last minute to buy two-liters of pop and some ice. Oh, and I put stickers on plastic shot glasses that were then filled with pacifier-shaped hard candy. It was truly a terrifyin' experience for someone who's not exactly a girlie girl. Sorry, Balulah, you know you're like a little sis to me, but the room packed with hens freaked me out jest a tetch.
Come on, look at the centerpiece:
Sweet yodelin' baby jesus, that thing was huge! A poodle could jump through that loop - I almost expected an infant to pop out of it. How many others at the table stared at this nipplesque monstrosity in silent horror? I'm worried what our collective dreams will be tonight.
This is what my face looks like in the thick of a baby shower:
Don't get me wrong - I got nothin' against babies, or baby mommas, and I have every intention of being a very embarassing pseudo aunt to this particular child. But there's just somethin' about the whole ritual of showers, of the wedding or baby variety, that makes me feel like maybe I shoulda turned left at Albuquerque.
Maybe it's because I just finished Wicked (an excellent read which I heartily recommend), but I then felt the need to channel my inner wicked witch.
...and your little blog, too!
At this point, if you're even still awake, you're likely wonderin', "So is there a point here? Is your title bullhshit, or are you gonna cough up the Joan?"
I shall commence coughin'.
Joan Jett and the Blackhearts officialy rock. Joan is pushin' 50 and she's in such great shape it makes me hang my head and wish the gym was open all night.
I'll list what I can remember:
- Bad Reputation
- I Love Rock and Roll
- Light of Day
- I Hate Myself for Loving You
- Fetish
- Crimson and Clover
- Do You Wanna Touch Me
- Everyday People
- Cherry Bomb
- Love is All Around (Mary Tyler Moore Theme) - another song I should add to my list of favorite covers!
Joan don't give a damn about her bad reputation.
I would have been more adventurous with the camera, but it was raining during most of the show, and I had my camera in its case clutched under a sheet of plastic. Even my chaps could not ward off the rain.
Yes, I did indeed point the camera at my own crotch to snap a shot.
Joan rocked out for a little over an hour, and by the time the encore was over, the heavens were pissin' down on us pretty well. That made me a little sad, as we were at the county fair, and where there's a fair, there's a midway. I love the midway.
There is no desire in my cold heart to ride any of the rides set up by people who can't even keep track of where all their own teeth are. I don't wish to be cheated out of my money by the games. But I love the lights. The midway at night is one of my favorite visual feasts in the world.
Alas, the rain was too hard to even think about fishin' my camera out, so I grabbed a quick shot throught the windshield as we headed out. Maybe we can try again Saturday night. I just have to have a picture of the bumble bee ride.
Katy Barzedor proclaimed this to be so at 11:32 PM
16 of you felt the overwhelming need to say somethin':
Kitty dared me to do a wicked thing to your sister, and I did it.
heheheheheheheheheheheheeeeeee
Joan Jett is a babe and I'm so glad you got to catch her. I should scan the autograph and post it in honor of your post. Now which pile is that CD in...hmmm...
Oh yeah, it's in the stack with those classical composers that worked together and one died and the other went on to work on said works and...
hehe
*ducks before somebody hits him*
show up here Oct 8th & 9th and have fun at our downtown carnival...I will be manning the soundboard at the stage.
:)
Mr B - you are NO LONGER my date to the Cotillion prom - and you don't know what lurks under this mild exterior - an evening you would never forget!
~wod packs up her bustier and glides off in an elegant huff~
Mrtl - I really have to restrain myself from another Arby's breakfast today. I'm home today, lookin' at the clock, goin', hmmmmmm, in 40 minutes I could get roast beef...
Jess - I'm not at work today, which is good, 'cause readin' your Squirl story might have once again spoiled my office chair, and the cleaning crew is tiring of urine duty in my office.
Mr. B - yes, please, to the Joan autograph post!
OH, and what you said...you are in SO much trouble, mister. SO much. Opera gal's 'bout to go all medieval on your ass.
If it ain't baroque, don't fix it.
Opera gal - THAT is exactly what the Cotillion has always needed - an elegant huff. As only you could provide.
Oooooh, who's playin' at the carnival? How nice that it's not Labor Day weekend, when all the good music always happens at the same time in several locations. Have you seen the lineup for the Detroit jazz fest this year? OK, this should just be a post.
You've been taking blogging lessons from mrtl, haven't you? We've got Arby's, a giant pacifier, Wicked and Joan Jett. Oh, and a crotch self-portrait. Excellent post. I don't like breakfast foods, either. I just had some peanut butter on toast. You know what else Arby's has here? OK, I'll tell you: a chocolate and peanut butter milkshake. It's a good thing.
well, we're still finalizing the lineup - we like to really mix it up and we usually have rock, oldies, folk/acoustic, jazz, reggae, something for the kids, blues and country.
This year we may bluegrass too, which is a real departure, but I kinda like the idea of 30 fiddlers onstage at the same time, clogging.
Susie - I must be hangin' out at mrland too much, and now she's sendin' me psychic post suggestions. Spooooky!
That baby shower shit always weirds me out a little. A lot.
And I'll take at least the peanut butter part of that shake. Mmmmmm...
Opera gal - I pictured it. It's a little traumatizing, if you throw in the clogging. My friend said her grandparents threw a clogging party (arteries? I wondered) and were clogging to "I'm Too Sexy" - the thought boggles the mind, does it not?
Ahh, where to begin? Horsey saouce? Erotic curley fries? Ginormous papier-mache pacifiers? It's all just too much, Bucky. *sniff*
I don't know if this was a typo or not, but it cracked my shit up: "her impending bundle of oy." Freudian slip, maybe? It certainly rings true. *snicker*
damn - I have work to do, and that image just disturbed me greatly. i just saw 30 cloggers wearing mesh wife-beaters like in the Right Said Fred video.
and as an aside, don't you just hate those days when you realize that you're going to have an "I have to deal with stupid people day" ? the email I just got may just make my head explode.
Baby showers: Aack! I've personally been the victim of THREE surprise baby showers. The lovely women who planned them knew I wouldn't play along if I knew in advance, not that I played all that well as it was. Doesn't it sound as if someone's droppin' babies outta the sky, or from a plumbing fixture, or something? And the games -- gaah! Whyyyyyy?! *stamps foot*
Bucky at a baby shower, who'd a 'thunk' it?
Was your gift some tiny assless chaps?
I think it's really funny you had to bring the pop. I felt a wave of kindred spirit waft over me at that moment. Not that I can't cook, but personally, I like when all I have to do is bring the pop & ice. And Arby's for breakfast? Why, by golly, sometimes a girl's gotta kick off the day with somethin' - Hearty. Hearty 'n' Horsey.
I was gonna say "Just.Like.Me." but I'm really more of a burro. Rounder & shorter and not quiiiite as toothy.
Hmmmmm. Unbreakfasty things for breakfast. Yummy. That huge pacifier better be filled with candy.
LadyBug - Good eye! "Bundle of oy" is indeed intentional.
Opera gal - I hope your head didn't explode. I don't think I saw any brain eruptions on the southern horizon...
Eclectic - I'm so sorry! Balulah made sure to insist in advance that there be no games at her shower, so at least no one suffered that way.
Bone Machine - I'll have to look for that!
Bone digs Joan! Bone digs Joan!
(but, uh...I don't think Joan digs the bone)
Sierrabella - actually, my present is forthcoming.
PlazaJen - I think people feel safest letting me bring stuff that's not cooked and well sealed. And I won't complain, because the kitchen is NOT my friend.
And burros rock.
Kranki - I was later informed that the pacifier was, indeed, a pinata. That would explain the size. So how come nobody let me smack it with a stick?
I'm glad you had a good time at the concert. That's a pretty cool list of songs. I would have enjoyed the hell out of that.
And man, Joan doesn't look anywhere near 50. She looks great. Whatever it is that she's doing, it is definitely working.
I love the Midway at night.
It's magic.
I am employee of the month at Arby's.
Always. In perpetuity.
POKEY
Post a Comment
<< Home