thepissedkitty

Eat crappy diet food for a while. It does, in fact, “change your taste buds,” but not as purported in the I-only-like-healthy-things-now way. No, you will still gain back all the weight (and then some), but it makes you realize real food tastes ah-maze-ing. OMG, crappuccino with full-fat half-and-half and Midnight Moo, where have you been all my life? It’s like a vegan’s wet dream…ahem. Sorry vegs.

Other bad thoughts: I call Tulip, i.e. Honky Goose, i.e. my dog - and Bosco, i.e. Beaskieskeeskee, i.e…nevermind, anyway, I call them “weenies”. No they are not weenie dogs, they are just…weenies. So this morning, fueled by the above beverage, pit stank, and unemployment, I went around singing, You Are the Wind Beneath my Weenie. Which is not to say, weiner, i.e. wang, i.e. schlong…I got in big trouble in the 7th grade for saying schlong…by the way, don’t click that, not safe for work…you did? Oops…er…i.e. weenus. It is to say, you are the wind…beneath my dog. It’s very spiritual, in its way.

What?

Quote of the Day (besides: you are the wind beneath my weenie):
My scrotum is longer than my penis!
-Jack Black character in MARGOT AT THE WEDDING

Link of the Day: See how many TV/movie quotes contain the word “scrotum”. More than you would think-! Wow.

Some of my current fixations, though there are many:

1) Veuve Clicquot. I have not actually tried this, but my boss makes me buy it for work all the time. I think I will have to haul off and get some for myself, and/or skip town with his Client Meals card. Because it is really kind of creepy having to sign my first initial, plus his last name, like I am his freakin’ wife or something.

(I ain’t ironing his underwear. Gotta draw the line somewhere, even if I am his right hand. And you know what guys do with that.)

2) More in-my-budget-wise, this wine. If you can get past the foot on the label (I have issues with feet), both the red and the white are quite tasty. The cab describes itself as a “jammy” wine…mmm, jammy wine, sweet without being too Manischevitzy. Although I like that too. I’m no snob.

3) What the hell? If this isn’t another feeble attempt at being pseudo-healthy, I don’t know what is. My boss says it tastes “different”. I think that means bad. Coke Plus…kind of like the dumb club kid who seriously thinks switching from rum and Cokes to screwdrivers constitues being on a health kick.

4) Mint Water. Going down, feels like a reverse enema. Please do not ask me how I know this. My favorites are the regular Peppermint and the Orange Mint. The Lemon Mint is good, too, but just kind of tastes like iced tea without the tea. Also makes a mean mojito, because I can only discuss non-alcoholic drinks for so long before I go around dumping rum in them.

5) I know, I know. Sparks, it’s at your neighborhood Indian grocery, right next to the Boone’s Farm Strawberry Hill and the Night Train (which I didn’t know was an actual beverage; I thought it was just an especially screechy Guns ‘n Roses song). The sticker on the can stating You Must Be 21 is a dead giveaway that this is targeted for underage drinkers - hell, even the website suspects you’re jailbait. Maybe, like Red Bull + vodka, it just reminds me of being younger and more fun, when I used to work late on film sets, date male models and otherwise behave irresponsibly. Maybe it’s the fact that it causes heart palpitations due to its sketchy combo of caffeine + cheap malt liquor, and that it tastes like an Orange Julius (do they still make those? Mmmm, mall food nostalgia) after it’s been left out in the sun or under a bridge for a week.

By the way, don’t ever sniff Red Bull. It may taste fruity, but it smells exactly like pyook.