What gets your Taste Buds HARD?

Pho makes my mouth wet...

Pho makes my mouth wet…

 

Idle hands are the Devil’s playground an idle mouth is a fucking amusement park…

Continue reading

Breaking the Fourth Wall

 

After 3 bottles of wine, it tasted better than it looked...

After 3 bottles of wine, it tasted better than it looked…

 

I was cooking spaghetti and meatballs on Sunday, my best friend bursts through the door and said something to the effect of, ‘Goddamn, I love me the smell of garlic, olive oil, and herbs being sauteed.  I can smell that shit from the street.’  Picture a six-foot-six guy from Georgia as a bull in a china shop and that’s what were dealing with.  That me to thinking, out of all the things I’ve smelled in both my grandma’s kitchen, or any of the professional kitchens I’ve worked in, or restaurants, what’s my favorite kitchen smell?

 

For me, it’s almost as easy choosing your favorite child, my favorite smell is sliced chiles and garlic sauteed in a super hot pan.  The fragrance from the garlic fills the kitchen and the spice from the chile literally warms your eyes.  There’s nothing better.  Well maybe fresh baked chocolate chip cookies.  Or bacon.  Or lasagna.  Or pancakes.  You get the idea.

(ed. note :  I don’t have children, so I live vicariously through my friends with kids and I don’t I could choose my favorite out of theirs.)

 

What’s your favorite smell in the kitchen?  Let me know in the comments.

Breaking the Fourth Wall

got this from wiki...

got this from wiki…

I can’t tell if this is supposed to be a serious heartfelt poem or one of those ‘Daily Affirmation’s with Stuart Smalley’ type things

From seriously-maybe.com:

I can’t wait for a man to buy me a home
I can rent an apartment and live on my own!

I can’t wait for a man to get on one knee
I can buy myself a two carat ring

I can’t wait for a man to decide to propose
’cause uncertain and doubts hold him back, I suppose

I can’t wait for a man to figure out that he’s sure
There’s more fish in the sea I can bring out to shore

I can’t wait for a man to make me a wife
I can live out my dreams and carry on with my life!

I can’t wait for a man to offer me marriage
and burden my life with his troublesome baggage

I can’t wait to be happy on a day of a wedding
I can be happy for often jet setting!

I can’t wait for a man to reach a life goal
Culture and society can’t brain wash my soul!

I can’t wait for a man to offer himself
I can do bad all by myself!

Be blessed, spread love,

Kim

 

Is it just me or does it sound like a collection of Stuart Smalley quotes:

I deserve good things, I am entitled to my share of happiness.

I refuse to beat myself up. I am an attractive person. I am fun to be with.

But today, I’ve decided to take a risk, and wear a new sweater. It was sent to me by a recovering sex addict, Melissa D.,

who knitted it herself; she said it gave her something to do with her hands.

I’m going to die homeless and penniless. I’m still twenty-five pounds overweight.

No one will ever love me. I could just kill myself.

But I’m good enough, I’m smart enough, and doggonit, people like me!

 

 

No disrespect to Kim, I just can’t tell the tone in the writing.   My bad.

Breaking the Fourth Wall

Now with 80% more sawdust!

Now with 80% more sawdust!

 

I just had one of the greatest experiences of my life.

 

I was going to get a hair cut in Main Street Santa Monica, near Venice Beach, and came across a homeless man asking for spare change.  This is as common as seeing a hipster in Brooklyn, I know.  He asked me for change and I told I didn’t have any, which I didn’t, and went on my way.  I’m not one of those bleeding hearts who gives every homeless person money.  I would be broker than I already am if I did that on the regular.  But there are times when the moment strikes and I’ll give someone a $5 or $10 bill.  I’m not sure often it happens or even why it happens, but the moment struck me after my hair cut.  I was crossing the street with my brand new ‘do and trimmed beard, telling myself if my homie was still sitting on the street, then I would buy him a Foot Long combo meal at Subway.

 

I turn the corner and there he is, hanging out on his blanket.  Operation ‘Good Deed for the Day’ is on.  I swoop into the Subway I passed on the way to my ‘barber’ and all of sudden a tornado of questions begin to bounce around my well coiffed dome like lottery balls.   What the fuck do I get him?  Should I get him something crazy, like one of the new chicken breast deals, or stay classic with a meatball?  Do I get flat-bread or one of the premier breads with cheese on top?  I wonder if he likes avocado or bacon?  Oh, shit.  What about the chips and drink?  Focus and get your shit together, damn you!  He’s gonna like whatever you get him.

 

I end up going completely classic.  Turkey with American cheese on white with everything on it.  Large Coke and Lay’s Original chips.  Can’t go wrong with that.  I pay for my friend’s meal and a smile slowly creeps its way across my face like the Cheshire Cat.  I walk up to the guy and say ‘Excuse, me.  You hungry?’  I couldn’t tell how old he was before because of the dirt and long beard.  Actually his beard wasn’t much longer than mine, to tell you the truth.  But he looks up at me, with these piercing blue eyes a Tommy Hilfiger model wished they had, and I can tell he’s probably somewhere in his 40’s.

He says, ‘Yeah. Always.’

‘Here ya go, buddy.’ I say as I hand him the plastic bag and put the large drink and straw like chess pieces on the sidewalk near his blanket.

This is where it gets amazing.  He says, ‘What is this, Subway?’ I nod and tell him what’s in the bag.

‘I don’t usually eat Subway. Thanks though…’ I’m thinking it’s because he doesn’t eat often or something having to do with living on the streets.  But I see him put the sandwich behind the pillar he’s leaning against, almost saying, ‘Thanks but no thanks.’

I ask, ‘Are you going to eat that?’

I swear on my life this is what he mumbles, ‘Yeah, I guess.  Thanks.  I just don’t normally eat that type of shit.  Subway, ya know? Thanks though.’

I laughed and told him to have a good day and he told me the same.  I couldn’t believe I was worried what type of sandwich to get him, when I should’ve been worried about where to get his meal.  It’s probably because the bread is made from yoga mats or something.

 

I hope he knows it was one of the greatest moments of life.

 

Breaking the Fourth Wall

Sometimes the scariest things are the things we have yet to do.

Sometimes the scariest things are the things we have yet to do.                                           –Me

 

I am always doing things I can’t do — that’s how I get to do them.          –Pablo Picasso

Well try not having a job and starting a blog, Pablo.

Continue reading