Boy oh Boy, it's Paula!
Mind you, she doesn't claim to be a chef-she is a cook, and boy can she cook!
It's not only her infectious personality and her very attractive face-she has nice feminine hands as well-she just seems PLAIN nice and loves what she does. And has a good time doing it that is for sure.
Now, I don't think I can ever eat what she cooks, all that butter? All that cream? Now, don't get me wrong, I am sure it tastes good, but I think I will leave the devouring to Paula.
Sunday, February 25, 2007
Boy oh Boy, it's Paula!
Saturday, February 24, 2007
Apparently these are STILL an attractive mode of travel, especially in America's suburbs. And, I thought regular vans were bad prior to the introduction of these horrid sliding side door contraptions.
Today, as I was out and about, I unwittingly was forced to notice that every annoying "driver" was in a mini van.
I sauntered over to McDonald's, as if going around the drive thru was not bad enough (people who go to McDonald's do not know how to align their vehicles properly within the boundary lines of the drive in section) and what is in front of me? A baby blue mini van. I believe the driver of this wretched vehicle believed he was driving something else, something that others would envy.
Now, could the mini van keep up with the moving traffic in the drive thru lane? No. Could he order quickly? No. Why did he have to keep the hind end of his mini van hanging out between the order window and the pay window? Who the hells knows?
So I get to the pick up window and I look up and what do I see? The Rolls Royce of mini vans parked horizontally taking up FIVE, yes FIVE, parking spots. I saw the back of his head bob up and down, stuffing all that trans fatty food down his throat, and probably littering the pristine floor that is a part of all mini vans with the fall out from his mouth.
If he had his window open, I would have thrown my grilled chicken snacker at the back of his head, which would have hopefully ruined his fine dining moment. But, would it have been worth it? Nope. I particularly like the grilled chicken snacker and what a waste that would have been.
This is but one example of the elephant of the road. Usually there is some mini van sow at the wheel- you know who I mean- the manly woman who has a firm grip on the wheel with the double chin protrusion trying to maneuver her vehicle into any free space between two cars on any stretch of road, while sucking down a Big Gulp. I usually wonder how mini van front ends keep stable with something like that driving at the helm. I also wonder who the hell would marry something like that?
Mini van drivers can't park. They sashay into the spot, usually with the back wheels into the space next to them. WTF is that? I usually find this out AFTER I come out of the store. This is why other cars don't like mini vans. This is why I don't like mini vans, in addition to the grimy, icky sweaty children that hang out in the middle seats, who slide open the side door before a complete stop while in the parking lot, during the heat of summer, screaming, running, hitting other cars in its vicinity while trying to get out of that hot death trap.
And you still continue to drive one, don't you?
Thursday, February 22, 2007
Look at me I'm Sandra Lee, talentless as I can be.......
Where did they find her? In the processed food section of glossy discount coupons?
Not only is she the Queen of Crappy Crafts, trying to hide her thirst for everything alcoholic behind a rash of bad food combinations and recipes, I have found her peppy blondness as annoying as Rachel Ray.
Ms. L'Oreal No. 9 does more drinking than eating, even on her own show. How annoying is her bland white kitchen when it surreptitiously appears in every monochromatic color of the rainbow since it will match her tacky tablescapes? ( I don't even know if that is a word )
I don't know what is more annoying about her-her two inch wide slumpy back holding up those those jugaboobs or her constant reference to the imminent arrival of her guests who are never seen, the utter disregard for her over use of processed and fat ladened ingredients she loves, or the manner in which she slops her ingredients all over the place and wastes more of them in her throw away sink than she actually uses. [ She has a sink, and Rachel has a bowl, both annoying.]
Hey, cocktail girl, you need to GO!
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
Another topic on the level of peed on toilets. And, I began to think about it last night, in disgust, while watching the mindless VH-1 "I Love New York"- mindless, yet entertaining, well except for one thing: Mr. Boston's nose picking. On national TV. Right there in full view of his competitors and Ms. New York.
Finally one of the guys said something about it in a commentary. But, there he was at elimination shoving his fingers in and out and in and out of his nostrils, rolling whatever he dug out around between his two fingers, and then continued on; and Ms. New York still kissed him! Gross. I have to believe she did not see it or know where his fingers where, but she did eliminate him, so maybe his nose picking had something to do with it. He seemed perfectly fine doing out in the open.
Now, this is not only a problem on this reality show. It's something that, well as we all know, is a regular thing A LOT of people do, much to my chagrin. They do it while driving the car, and they do it pretty good, too. How many times have I been minding my own business, driving on the highway for example and I turn to look at a passing car, and there is some old man sticking his narly finger up his nostril while keeping an eye on the road in front of him? Plenty.
Does he care if I see him? Apparently not. Does he have any shame in doing what he is doing? Apparently not. Does he do it quickly and discreetly? Absolutely not, because if he did, I would not be watching him poke around in there like he is digging for potatoes or something similar.
Maybe he does it on purpose. Maybe he thinks we can't really see him while he is in his car, driving and picking his nose like he was harvesting cherries. Maybe he does not even care.
It's true. Many don't care. And I will give you another example.
You are waiting on line at a deli counter and it's your turn. So you put in your order, telling the deli clerk what you want, they mentally take it in (if you don't make them overload with more than one item) and then they do it. Mostly quick and swift. Nonchalantly, with the protection of that ratty plastic hand glove: as they go to open the deli case, there goes their finger in and out of that nose so discreetly and fast, that if you glanced at the salami wondering if you could handle the salt content, you would never know they sliced your cold cuts with a finger that just had a rendezvous with their nose. That is when I just walk away. JUST WALK AWAY.
Even though Giada has a forehead big enough for an outdoor drive-in, I really like her and her cooking.
She is very attractive and her mother looks like her sister. I love that her show is family oriented, meaning she involves her family in the show and they are interesting and can cook along with Giada very well.
Her hands are equisite: feminine, petite and well shaped. She always has on the most palest of pinks polish on her nails.
She handles and prepares the food in as a delicate manner as are her delicate hands.
She comes across as sweet, caring and genuine, and yes, she can cook, and magnificently at that-who knew that Italian food had so much delicious variation?
Sunday, February 18, 2007
Very gratefully, I stumbled upon another pop out your eyes to read every word blog. Well, my eyes popped long before I could read every entry, but no worries, I will return to finish reading the delightful craziness from Karla.
She not only is witty and sharp, but like a friend from CA once said, sharp like a tack. Now that is to the point.
She hit upon a topic I have mused about, mentally at least, during every trip to a public restroom and sometimes in private homes: the in-aliable TOILET.
Like Karla, I do everything I can to NOT touch a damned thing in any public restroom and I even lament when I have to use an arm or knee to maneuver hands free in that hell hole.
But, I never, as Karla, likened pee sprayed toilet seats AND FLOORS (yes, I will freak out if I thought I stepped on floor pee) to urinal cow spray. Quite a thought. She is quite right.
Why then do women pee on seats? I don't rightly know. I surmise that maybe they don't crouch closely enough to the toilet seat and miss, or they are crouched close enough and can't control the flow while trying to rely on thigh muscles to keep them from making contact with the toilet seat?
They might have a heavy pocket book dangling from their necks, keeping them off kilter from the toilet seat or are trying to hold an infant, keeping them from touching the pee floor and only have one hand to maneuver the removal of underwear and their bladder is not cooperating at such moments.
There could be many, many more reasons, too numerous to put forth here, in this blog, at least. But regardless of the reason, what defies LOGIC, is why why why these women are confounded by the additional and most useful use of toilet paper in a public restroom is to WIPE the seat!
So for now, I will make it a point to return to Karla's blog and see how well the toilet issue develops.
OK, I am so sick of seeing this woman with tight fitting tops and seeing her bellybutton protrusion looking like over plumped and sagging fish lips, to match her bass sized mouth.
Her voice is more than annoying in her guffaw type verbalization of goof ball expressions, bellowed in her manly, gutturally toned vocals. [Though I did see her with her husband in NYC on $40 a day, acting repulsively helpless and squeaky voiced-really gross]
Her lumberjack hands are just that-thick, short and squatty-ugh! A sharp contrast to her side slit teeny tiny almond shaped eyes. Yuck.
As to her money saving tips, she is not telling us anything a single celled creature can't figure out.
And for God's sake, will you WASH your mushrooms!
Oh, yeah: she needs a boob job if she insists on wearing those tight tops.
She does not eat on camera-just picks- but is still chunky looking for some reason.
AND WTF is it with the way she eats? The woman never encapsulates any utensil with her lips like the rest of us-it's a teeth clamping that goes on instead. EEWWW-so annoying. I guess she has a thing about her lips touching utensils.....
I don't know why this woman is so annoying-meaning why does she continue on and on with it? She cannot cook, well she can probably fry cook, and she does nothing interesting or skilled; yet, she gets paid millions for doing relatively nothing.
Saturday, February 17, 2007
Today being a lazy day, I was searching through blogs, again. I have to find a better way. I googled and though the search results where like 11M, I was only "allowed" to get through 35 pages.... I tried to add key words and just got a lot of the same blogs I had just skimmed.
If I use the NextBlog feature, I keep getting mostly the same blogs or the "bestest blog ever" and the same rotational blogs from there. I also landed on a blog that required a PASSWORD and I had to completely shut down the browser to get OFF of that- what a drag!
But despite all the problems, I found a blog where there are beautiful photographs of famous places in gorgeous NYC. I LOVE NY! There is no other place like it on earth. Just gorgeous.
Take a look at NY at Christmas time, the photos are great!
I will try and start linking to blogs I stumble upon and that I found clever and witty-blogs that make me want to read all entries.
This morning, I found what is called the Mooselog blog, which I was not sure why it was called that.
It's written from the perspective of a beagle dog about life with Timothy, an apparent intruder into Macey's life.
Well written, and "mind catching" for its very fine use of description; it's a blog well worth visiting.
I LIKED it!
p.s. Macey, this little girl looks very much like she could be Timothy's sister: chikkin.blogspot.com
Friday, February 16, 2007
I read a blog today, as I usually try to do when I have a chance; actually, when I need to take a break from work or while chatting on the phone. It was about rice pudding and it was written by a Taurean woman.
It struck me as so ironically true; Taureans, mainly men, basically think of two things: food and sex. One is as important at the other.
I have dated Taurean men and every meal has to be an event-it revolves around the quality of the food, whether at a hole in the wall or fine dining.
Now, that is not to say that these fine specimen bulls are totally oblivious to the finer things, but let me tell you, if the food is tastier, more abundant and plain just delicious, they will ignore the most voluptiously naked female while they have food on their mind.
This is not to say that food does not enter into the romance department, but usually each event, food or sex/romance
(for with a bull, these are never really separate), each is as equally as pleasurable on its own. One usually follows the other and the routine is food first, then sex/romance.
The power of food with Taurus people is amazing. Many of them have quite a girth, and they still cut a fine figure. They usually are exceptionally beautiful. I have noticed common characteristics are the bovine eyes and the thick sturdy necks-yes even the women have them. If they are not the rare slender bull or cow, they are both usually top heavy, with the women having such an enormous top as wide as the chest is for the men.
The bulls I have dated have exceptionally shaped legs and from the waist up, a fine spread V shape and all have had exceptional upper strength. They are good protectors, but that comes with a price. Bulls or Cows rarely give up their possessions and that includes those of the human kinds.
As between both of these, I have learned each have explosive tempers, despite the tranquil lives they strive to protect. The women are more volitile when angered, like their bovine counterpart, they attack with their eyes open, making them more dangerous- they will seek you out.
Bulls shut their eyes before they charge, and Taurean men, basically do the same thing, because if they do not get you with the very quick and volcanic attack they can rapidly bring upon you-meaning EVERYTHING in their vicinity will be destroyed-once they open those eyes (calm down) they will not expend any more energy.
So, the rice pudding story was appropo as a topic for a Taurean blog. Really.
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
PUH LEEZ! Why do I watch this drivel? It is actually repulsive. HELL OH!
These women not only look like they have pulled their skin [ that looks like partially melted in the microwave plastic] over those bony faces, but they all have that fake looking Colorado Red Rock tan.
The one who works in the travel agency or whatever that business is [the one that is run by the woman with the crater pit dimples- geez, have you ever seen dimples so deep and nasty?]- who was moronic beyond belief, and is now engaged? What is up with that? She looks like she is 55-60 with a really bad face lift [eh, stretch], but supposedly she is only 45- HA!
All of them, EACH AND EVERY ONE OF THEM, are completely useless. Charity? Altruism? Non existent there in COTO as long as these parasitic women are around.
Who I think are worse, are the men that WANT to support them-WTF is that all about? Support for useless women-blah blah blah about money and things and money and things and things and money- The beautiful people? Maybe, but there is alot of beautiful fruit with rotten insides that no one wants.
You can't take it with you and when you are standing there being called to account, its not going to matter about money, things, money, things... now will it? Now that is something they all can take to the bank.
Sunday, February 11, 2007
Well, here they are:
I forget which one is older than the other. There are two more from this particular scion of the Gucci Clan-one has a particularly vile mother and the other is the youngest, living in England, who looks a lot like these two pictured here.
The mother of these two, Patrizia and Elisabetta, is Yvonne Moschetto, a stunningly beautiful Scorpionic woman. She must have been some blonde bombshell, because when I met her a few years ago, I was taken aback by her beauty at her age, probably close to her 60's at the time. Very elegant woman. I really liked her. Probably because she could be a real, nasty B I T C H if she wanted to and I heard she was, but with significant reason.
Saturday, February 10, 2007
OK, I admit it-I have this particular repulsion with fallen arches. I prefer an arch that is defined and visible. I detest high arches, they look uncomfortable.
I was recently at a house gathering and the host, who most would consider particularly handsome, had his shoes off, in his own house, and all I could do after noticing his socked feet, was to try and not stare at his arches: fallen and protruding.
With each movement of his foot while he spoke, I noticed the arch lift as he rose his foot and squat as he put it down. When he turned the foot in, the arch pivoted the foot ever so slightly off of the floor into a 45 degree angle due to its touching the floor.
I was repulsed; I thought even the socks could not hide that fallen arch. What would it look like bare and naked? Probably riddled with little bumps that appear when there is weight put on the foot.
Why do I notice these things and why do they bother me? I don't know. All I could think of was why his girlfriend was seemingly unfettered by the fallen arches. Strange.
If you have never visited New York's Hudson Valley, it is well worth a trip. Chock full of rich and vibrant history, you can make a long weekend trip to traverse the Hudson from Sleepy Hollow to Olana and all in between.
Sadly, the house that started the mansion craze is in ruins. Wyndclyffe or sometimes spelled Wyndcliffe, in the storybook hamlet of Rhinecliff, NY, sits nearby Wilderstein on the Hudson, built by Edith Schermerhorn Jones, an Astor relation. She built Wyndclyffe and the rest of the Gilded Age Mansions of the Hudson River, such as the Vanderbilts and the Livingstons copy catted Wyndclyffe to not be outdone. Rich and majestic, looming with secrets of the past, the now large ruins of Wyndclyffe were to be restored by its supposed new owner in 2003.
The mansion, once boasting 80 acres of splendor on the Hudson, was reduced to an overgrown 2 acres, surrounded by mostly 1970's styled homes with neighbors who prefer that it be razed and erased. It was for sale for about $250K in 2002. What I never understood was the complete lack of interest in those with the means to save it; had no one any appreciation for the complex beauty that lied within its falling walls? Its sale prompted talk about its purchase so that it could be destroyed completely once and for all. Revolting.
For those interested in Wyndclyffe, the following links are of interest. Not much information is available on this most important relic of New York's Historic Hudson Valley.
Wednesday, February 7, 2007
Flavor Flav-I think the most profound thing I ever heard him say was he LOVES to give people second chances. I have to say that if more of us thought like that, the world would be a better place. But, that's about it in the normalcy department for FF.
As we all know, the only thing that kept BOTH Flavor of Loves going was Miss New York and the explosive cameo appearances by her mother and we all felt sorry for her father! Whew-what an emotional explosion Sister Patterson (her name on her daughter's new show, I LOVE NEW YORK) really is-she is a loose canon, firing, misfiring at whomever is in her way. She DOES NOT CARE.
So, Miss New York-she was at her best in the first Flavor of Love. She was real and looked MUCH BETTER. Talk about condescending and nasty. The other shows, she is putting on more of an act and it looks fake. Too Bad. Her mother, though keeps it real, its no act.
Flavor Flav would have been better off not kicking Miss New York to the curb like he did, TWICE. That was pretty cold.
Tuesday, February 6, 2007
Three tarts, please. Pop Tarts, that is.
Commune living at its best, except, its with Hef. Not a bad gig if you can get it, and these Girls got it.
Holly not only lives at the Mansion, but it seems out of all three girls, she also pays some regular visits to La La land, that is when she is not secretly fending off her competition Bridgett and Kendra. She always has this sour look on her face when during her cameo interviews when she has to acknowledge the other two. Well, Honey, it comes with the Territory when you are not the one and only GF to an 80 year old.
Not to go unnoticed, she always has to sit with Hef, in quiet riot kinda way to lay out her turf. Yep, he's MINE, that Puffin. STAY AWAY, uh, Bridgett and Kendra!
Holly is also the one who lays some pride into "boasting" about how good friends she is with all the ex-playmates who come to the house. Probably because she is not an ex herself. If she keeps dropping her marriage and kid "hints" to Hef, she may be the one who will be invited back to the Mansion.
See, Holly, as ambitious as she is, should take a hint from the other two, Bridgett and Kendra-two wary be wile women-who apparently know there is not marriage or a kid future with the 80 year old Hef, because he is just that-80- so in this category-and they don't want it but want the lifestyle-SO, Bridgett and Kendra get more IQ points than does Holly.
Bridgett and Kendra do try and keep themselves quite busy with Hef substituted activities. Bridgett and Gizzy-WTF is that-what a nasty ass feline-most likely because that cat is like WTF about her 30 something owner who puts her in straight jackets for teeth cleanings or poofy combing the kitty-GEEZ-the poor cat is like kill me now between Bridgett and her doggy companion Wednesday Adams. Who can make this stuff up?
Kendra is probably the most realistic-she is having the best time she can, she and her little pea brain that she busts open every now and then.
Poor Kendra, her mom tries to live the Vida Loca through her daughter and seems to vie at any opportunity to get in on the action-has she taken a look in the mirror? Maybe if she straightens out that mis-angled hair over one eye hairdo.........and all that Kendra thinks of besides sports, is PIMPING. Pimping this and pimping that-she even went as far to say if he had a little girl, she would PIMP HER OUT?@#$%
E [sans the exclamation point because the error message screams "these characters are not allowed"] does a good job of underscoring the bits of wisdom spewed by the three-and they are more than happy to keep it pumping.
Monday, February 5, 2007
Yes, there really is a show called the White Rapper Show. And it's PHAT. Yeah, that is what I said.
These people are SERIOUS-half the time I can't understand what they are rapping and they are white. But its serious none the less. I am waiting for Flavor Flav to step on, if you dig it-oh, sorry, wrong era.
They have an elimination ceremony [notification by the "You Got Mayo" television IN DA HOUSE] on a make believe stoop where the loser STEPS OFF [yeah boyy!!] and then they HAVE TO give up their green converse sneakers, complete with their white rapper name graffitied on the side. MELT DOWN!
And, its an informational viewing hour. Who knew that rappers try out their new work at strip clubs to see how well the stripper takes to the rap, demonstrated to how good she feels and works the pole? Freestyle baby!
There is a lot of talk about "the old school" but they have to get into "the now" to avoid feeling stale and outdated. Got that? OK? FALL BACK! BE ON YOUR GAME and KEEP DOIN' WHAT YOU DO.
Persia, white rapper girl, according to herself, raps from the heart. Actually she sang on a rap they created for the "club songs" competition held at the strip club and it was a BANGER-seriously bro-she rules the White House- the place they are all shacked up in da' Bronx! "I wanna smoke, I wanna smoke, I wanna smoke in the club" yeah girl, that is a true banged up job. WORD.
Sunday, February 4, 2007
After BC, I studied in England at the University of London and traveled around for about 6-8 months in Europe. We lived in South Kensington on Queens Gate.
Going to pubs to drink warm beer, after hours clubbing, riding the tube at all hours of the day and night, eating chicken kabobs, going to the local 7-11 for tall cans of Heineken and having to call the U.S. at 12 am London time by standing in line on the street waiting to get into those famed red phone booths took priority to arriving to class on time or trying to adjust to the wonderful stiffness at Peat Marwick McLintock where I had an internship, and stupidly refused a job offer, due to having what I considered at the time an invitation I should not have refused, which I didn't.
But those chicken kabobs! You'd get them at night, while it was cold, usually when you got off the TUBE, running down the street, on the left had side. They where there, Right next to that cone shaped meat thing they would slice and put on a pita, like the chicken, with that savory cucumber sauce! They were hot. And Juicy. So savory, and OH SO GOOD! Wrapped tight in white non waxy paper, and once you get that first succulent bite, you'd have to slurp up the sauce and juice that tries to escape out of your bundle.
By the way, we did our best eating of them while walking or running our way back home to Queen's Gate. YUM!
How many of you have gone shopping, say at the Mall, and you decide to go into the lingerie section of a store or Victoria's Secret and there is some sow and her middle aged and nerdy BF in tow, who, no matter where you are trying to go, there he is, lingering, with a stupified look on his face.
And, all he does is STARE, when you are trying to look at a underclothings; there he is, STARING at what you are trying to look at, and then you notice him, and he keeps looking and you are pissed. You are thinking: how can I look at this stuff with that bloated and balding specimen of a man watching what I and everyone else is doing in the lingerie section? And the woman with no clue that he is with, runs around like she is the most desirable vixen looking at lingerie. How?
WHAT KIND OF NIT-WIT brings a man to a women's store? Apparently many do. I can attest to this fact many times over. And to report, they are stuck up and unattractive women who get some ego boost by having their, oohh, man in the lingerie section with them.
Why is consideration a dead concept to these people?
These men just plop themselves behind their women's hind end, and really do not care if they are taking up all the aisle space. They usually stand right in the way of anyone getting to a rack, buggy eyed, not even paying attention to who they are with. They hold their bags, droop their shoulders, and usually move their head in a slow-mo rotation fantasizing about what is around them.
Does anyone want to see this usually 40-50's type, who are utterly faithful the khaki pants, thick soled loafers and the standard leather bomber accented by the buttoned down pink oxford? No. We don't.
Have you ever wondered who is on this thing? Self promoters of all types, stranger than fiction individuals, those that you wonder if they have a clue as to how "out there" they really are? Good thing its not a fluid blog site to seach, so that is why I went to the "Blogs of Note"-where I wish they would change those depressing pumpkin orange color schemes they use, emphazized by the dull blue-anyway, I clicked on, say two or three blogs, eh, nothing interesting-then I decided to click on SJ's blog-wow-what an explosion of word play extraordinaire.
I think I blew out my eyeballs from not being able to tear myself away from reading and reading and reading. Amazingly entertaining. And clever.