Food Food Food Food

I used to  take surveys and post them on MySpace all the time. I just ate a whole pizza so I thought I’d keep the fun going by answering some food related questions! Link to original survey embedded in the Food Survey title!

Food Survey 

1.     How do you feel about golden oreos?

Second hand Vienna fingers. 

2.     What is your favorite dessert topping?

I’ve been recently into KitKat chunks and/or Reese’s cup chunks. 

3.     What is your favorite flavor/brand of bubble gum?

BubbleYum or Grape Big League Chew

4.     Favorite cheese?

Mozzarella.

5.     Favorite Lunch Meat?

Mortadella because salt is god.

6.     Favorite ice cream flavor?

“Just Jimmies” by Brighams or Black Raspberry Chip from the Polar Cave ice cream parlor.

7.     Best looking food?

I like the way cartoon pizza looks. In real life, maybe one of those glazes hams with the pineapple on it.

8.     Best food to put cheese on?

Dumping shredded cheese one top of cold salsa.

9.     Best sexual food?

Are we taking aphrodisiacs or licorice underwear?

10.   Best tasting drink in the summer?

Moscow Mule

11.   Best tasting drink in winter?

Moscow Mule.  I’m not as opaque as I’d like to be.

12.   Best food for a night out with friends?

All foods.

13.   Best foods to eat with a roll?

Pasta or soup.

14.   Messiest food, in your opinion?

Burger.

15.   Easiest food to prepare?

Pasta.

16.   Cheapest food you ever ate?

Ramen Noodles.

17.   Most expensive food you ever ate?

Some sort of steak, I’d imagine.

18.   Stinkiest food you ever ate?

I don’t eat stinky food.

19.   Favorite dipping sauce?

Sweet and sour  sauce or the garlic aioli from Night Market in Cambridge, Ma.

20.   Best pizza topping?

Onions….or maybe a sprinkle of feta.

21.   Favorite potato chip flavor?

Sea Salt & Vinegar.

22.   Most toxic substance you ever ate?

Probably cheetos.

23.   Most calories you ate in one meal?

The pizza I ate this morning. I wish I were joking.

24.   Favorite soda?

Coke. 

25.   Favorite flavor of juice?

White grape mixed with anything.

26.   Favorite Vegetable?

Water chestnuts. Although, I think they might be a fruit. Whatever.

27.   Favorite Fruit?

Water chestnuts?

28.   Worst canned food?

All canned foods. 

29.   Best side dish?

Baked mac&cheese.

30.   Worst fast food restaurant?

Wendy’s? Mainly because of mayonnaise. 

31.   Best restaurant?

I’ll forever be in love with Night Market as mentioned previously.

32.   Best smelling food?

French onion soup.

33.   Favorite appetizer?

Maybe those onion string things. I could shovel those for days.

34.   Favorite cookie flavor?

Oatmeal chocolate chip… or a raspberry linzer.

35.   Favorite cake flavor?

ICE CREAM!

36.   Favorite pie flavor?

Strawberry rhubarb.

37.   Chocolate or rainbow sprinkles?

This depends on the situation and ice cream at hand.

38.   Ketchup or Mustard?

This depends on the situation and the ice cream at hand. I mean, food.

39.   Best food to have on a date?

Ice cream? So you can each have your own and then cough in each other’s faces when the dairy creates a whole bunch of mucous. 

40.   Most share-able food?

French fries. They are pretty easy to grab and split up.

 

Did I do okay? Do you agree or disagree with anything? LET ME KNOW!

xoxoxoxo

Peanuts and Tomatoes

Hey clam sauces,

I was thinking today about my new phrase, “peanuts and tomatoes, amiright?!” 

It’s a great way to impress your friends with this hit phrase that means “same difference.”  The origin? I feel the same way about peanuts as I do tomatoes. I’m also an idiot. 

BUT hear me on this. I don’t like peanuts or tomatoes unless they are an ingredient for a larger, more delicious snack. Peanuts don’t nearly have as much num-power as pistachios, cashews, or even fricken almonds have on their own. And hear this– tomatoes are little flavorless acidic bombs. You heard me, acid lovers. I’ll take your Ragu and Pace but I don’t want to see them in their naked forms.

Peanuts and tomatoes, my friend. One in the same. Like bonehead and numbskull. Chump and punk. Moron and dummy. 

Alright little love shacks, go out and spread my message but feel free to also not. I understand. I LOVE YOU. Xo

Killer Tofu

Tell us about your favorite childhood meal — the one that was always a treat, that meant “celebration,” or that comforted you and has deep roots in your memory.

DAY TEN. Writing 101 prompt. 

There were a few evolutions to my favorite childhood meal. It first started out as bread and butter where I would lick the pat of butter off and discard the bread. Then there was the Little Debbie Zebra cakes. Then there was the Little Debbie Honey Buns. But through it all my favorite meal is one that my mom still makes when I come home. Egg noodles, ground beef in brown gravy, with pea pods. She mixes in a little soy sauce that makes it extra savory. 

My mouth is watery, looks like I’ll have to drive the 2 hours home and see what happens. Hehe. 

Me so Tired.

It’s true and I’m eating yogurt.

You know everything is going terribly when you’re eating yogurt on a Friday afternoon.

I think I should be doing my DAY 12 Blog Challenge post.

Something about what’s in my fridge.

Well, I’ll tell ya, it’s not yogurt.

I do have pretty cakepops in my fridge! If you don’t know what a cakepop is, they are essentially a mushy part of a cake, balled up and shoved onto a stick, dipped in chocolate, and refrigerated.

I have cookie dough and lemon.

I also have a headache.

They were supposed to be for my birthday party* (*me and my mom) but I’ve been eating them all day. I can’t help it. I’m a woman and I have needs. Needs for cakepops.

I also have 3 day old cupcakes in the fridge.  I also have insulin for my diabetic cat. I think I sense some irony and foreshadowing here.

In any case, I’m typing this with my forehead squarely planted on my desk, arms stretched out, typing like a sleepy Sphynx.

But I get to go see Bill Burr tonight! Which reminds me I haven’t written and all this week, but luckily my best stuff comes out of desperation. I mean, at least I think.

Okay kids, until next time!

Coke Whore

I’m sorry, did you say something? I couldn’t hear you over the cracking of my sweet, delicious Coke.

The cracking of the can, the first sip of crisp liquid love.

I’ve fallen back into my old habits.

When I was in 6th grade I would have a minimum of 5 cans per day, along with 2 meatball Hot Pockets. I stopped drinking it and lost a bunch of weight, but now over 2 years out of college I find myself standing in front of the display at CVS wondering which package will come home with Mama.

I touched that one, but I saw that one first. Well I can’t just choose between my children. You both can come home! (Cue me walking out of the store with a 12 pack under each arm.)

I get into my car and there are cans in all the designated cup holders. The trash bag in the back seat is filled to the brim with cans that clink around as a drive, just like Santa’s sleigh bells.

I didn’t really see the problem with it. I love what I love and it’s the one thing, you know, besides friends and family and bler blah barf, that I can rely on.

I did question myself as I was sitting at my desk, watching some stand-up, when reached for my Coke. I started to take a sip when I came out of my Coke haze and remembered I hadn’t put my Coke on my desk. I looked over at my night stand and my darling cherub sat there in all it’s beautiful red glory, shining like the angel of mercy it is.

I looked down at the Coke in my hand and realized it was probably from when I was cleaning my room the weekend prior.

That would explain the green fuzz growing around the mouth piece. I thought maybe this can came with it’s own terrarium. Got to be environmentally conscientious these days.

I mean, even the name Coke, sounds like the noise it makes when you open the can. The freshness. The bubbles dancing around on my tongue. Sweet relief.

At any rate that’s where I am, squealing with delight over a box of Cokes that still have the polar bears on the can, even though the box didn’t indicate they were the winter edition.

Now that is a true treasure.

Until next time, my Chipsqueaks!

Crystals and Toe-Sucking

Hey guys, I might be a witch.

Lately I’ve been reading up on crystals and gemstones and their benefits. I have a piece of citrine, an emerald, and a little lapis lazuli (any Gilgamesh fans?).

I carry them around as lucky charms but I also read that keeping certain ones under your pillow will help you have happier dreams when you sleep.

WELL my friends, I did not put my crystals under my pillow last night and I had some pretty fucked up dreams. One of them included sucking the toes (which nails were painted blackish-purple) of a kid I used to like a few years back. There was lots of drag queens, Goldfish crackers, rainbow escalators, and a nighttime pool party.

It sounds traumatizing but I woke up laughing so I’m hoping I haven’t completely become unhinged. Although, I’m not sure if laughing means I am crazy or just understanding of the absurdity.

Judging by the titles of my last few posts, I guess it might be the former.

In other news, I am seeing a psychic this weekend!

It was either that or a therapist and the psychic was cheaper.

And they are usually better at telling people what to do.

Me make a decision for myself? Puh! Unless it’s food or clothing, I’ll take all the advice I can get.

Or this blog. This thing is stream of consciousness. I pick a topic and wipe my ass with it and see how you darling pooptarts like it.

I’m not going to put the crystals under my pillow again tonight and see if anything else kooky happens.

Until next time my Scruvy Fully Bloateds!

Mama’s Gotta Brand New Tooth

Hey skeebermeisters!

I got me a brandy-new tooth in my face hole.

I realize that I have many face holes, but it’s in my biggest face hole with the rest of my teeth.

Following a 3 year diet consisting of 6 cokes and 2 Hot Pockets a day, one of my teeth rotted out into oblivion.

I swear I have nice teeth otherwise, this was in my “tween” years where my essential bodily upkeep was not up to normal standards. Unless you consider glittery eyebrows and white eyeliner normal.

I can’t chew on that side of my face for week. I chew aggressively so hopefully the right side of my jaw doesn’t turn into one giant beefed-up muscle.

I’ll take pictures if that happens.

Until next time, scuba boobs!

Attempting Normal

Hooray!

Marc Maron’s new book, “Attempting Normal” comes out today.

I pre-ordered mine in hopes to get the signed poster that was being offered. I sent my e-mail requesting one last week but didn’t get a response (to confirm or deny) being able to get one. My neurosis and paranoia set in, so I figured I’d e-mail them today. I was panicking that they would hate me for my pestering persistence.

I tried to make the e-mail sound polite and professional as possible, but I accidentally left the subject as “FWD: YOUR BARNES AND NOBLE ORDER HAS SHIPPED.”

Shit. They might think it’s spam. But I’m not spam! Just a girl who wants a poster. Why do you think I bought the complete Rocko’s Modern Life DVD set? Free poster. Why do you think I sign up for road races and never run them. Free t-shirts. Any event I ever went to in college regardless of what it was in support of? Free. Friggen. T-SHIRTS.

LIVE FREE OR DIE NAKED/POSTERLESS.

I think there are still some posters left or if you just like reading printed words on dead trees, go here: http://www.wtfpod.com/dispatches/entries/pre_order_attempting_normal

I don’t know how to get links to say a phrase and not just say the whole link, so ignore my quackery*.

In other news, I left my granola bar on my desk and a sunbeam warmed it up so the yogurt part of it tasted like warm frosting. Normally, warm yogurt would make me want to throw up out my ass, but this was really good.

I also recently found out my favorite place to get coffee doesn’t sell strawberry or vanilla frosted doughnuts. I also recently found out I am not confident when writing the word “doughnut.” I figured I can at least get the strawberry ones around Valentine’s Day or maybe ever Breast Cancer Awareness month. I can’t really think of a holiday that would warrant vanilla frosted doughnuts.

Okay, my little circus freaks, until next time!

*I’m not entirely sure that’s a word, but WordPress isn’t telling me I’m wrong so I MUST be right.

Animow

I’m wearing a jacket and leaned my elbow on the desk and it made a farting noise. Hehe.

But back to Animows. Today I was sitting at lunch, eating my second bowl of fiber cereal, which isn’t the best tasting, but it’s cereal and no one can just eat one bowl, unless you’re a witch.

I got to thinking about how fitness trainers and diet planners say not to reward yourself with food, because you aren’t an animal. Pardon me, while I hate all of that and drink a gallon of smashed up McDonald’s french fries. Firstly, yes I am an animal and secondly, I don’t think I want to know a person who doesn’t treat eating like a reward. That’s the whole point. Sure, it sustains life and that’s great but that only comes second to how fantastic shoving your mouth full of soda and strawberry doughnuts and pouring chocolate syrup down your face feels.

That’s how I start my day. I reward myself for getting out of bed and going to work by stopping at a coffee place and getting the largest vat of mocha iced coffee they have. If I didn’t do that, I’d be crying at my desk all day. Useless, sad, alone. But with my scrumpsh reward, I can somehow find the strength within me to live and do things like check my Facebook and watch RuPaul’s Drag Race and answer phone calls.

Another point is, it’s April. Everyone knows that April is the crusty butthole of the 12-month calendar year. It’s April, it’s raining, and it’s a Tuesday. Monday’s are better than Tuesday because you know they are terrible. Wednesday means we got through the bad part, Thursday means we can say YAY TOMORROW’S FRIDAY LET’S DRINK, and Friday means we get to sleep in Saturday. How can a person even live through a Tuesday without rewarding themselves with gourmet microwave popcorn their mother planted in a movie theater butter popcorn box because she’s a dirty trickster.

I see no other reason than to celebrate food and be enslaved by it’s glory.

Until next time, Wondersluts!