At a local food place, there is an alcoholic drink called the Tarantula Spiderbite.
It contains Jose Cuervo and many other yummy things. It also comes in a heavy glass goblet roughly the size and shape of my skull. Without the aid of a long straw, I need two hands to drink out of this container.
One and a half of these monster bitches downed and I will begin debating whether the English language is evolving or devolving based upon the usage of the word 'tatts' (for tattoos). Loudly. And with great gusto. With a drunken, Republican lawyer.
I never knew the phrase, "I will not
idly stand by and watch some knuckle-dragging moron dry assrape
the English language." would so swiftly silence three tables of people and various passerby. oops.
I think Joanna is still laughing about this and it's been almost three days.
This weekend has been basically quiet and without note. My brother is away in Las Vegas. I spent Saturday night after I got home from work cleaning because the Engineer drove up to North Jersey to see some old high school friends of his. Today, we went to the bookstore and I bought the new China Mieville and another book called, "Four and Twenty Blackbirds", which looks rather promising. I also had the distinct displeasure of standing next to some hoity-toity Marlton/Medford wifey in the new nonfiction releases section.
"Have you seen Hostel
yet?" She said to her companion. "I hear it's absolutely wonderful. Of course it would be, Quentin Tarantino did it."
This caused me to seethe and pee myself with hilarity, all at the same time. Seething, because Quentin Tarantino did not
. Eli Roth did. He wrote it and directed it. Tarantino produced it. Big difference. I'm a big fan of Eli Roth, he also did Cabin Fever
and that is one of my favourite horror movies. Peeing myself with hilarity, because I would pay rather large sums of money to be in the room when this uptight Coach-dripping bitch actually watches Hostel
. From everything that I've heard so far, the first half hour of the movie is very similar to softcore porn and the rest of the movie is straight up gore. They used 150 gallons of fake blood for this, which is three times the amount they used for Cabin Fever
. If you've never seen CF, then you wouldn't quite realize how mind boggling this is.
In addition to a trip to the bookstore, we also went to
the hippie store
Whole Foods, which is a grocery store I love like I'm receiving a paycheck to love it. They finally had the wonderful chocolate pudding I am so addicted to, instead of that vegan pussy carob bullshit that's been on the shelves the last few times I've been there. Carob is no proper substitute for chocolate, I don't care who says so. It is simply unacceptable.
So I happily bought real chocolate pudding and many other nifty food items I've been wanting, but no T42, which is a glorious bottled organic iced tea (made with organize cane sugar instead of fucking corn syrup) that I would have injected into my veins if I only could. It is exactly like the fresh brewed iced tea that my mother used to make for me., I could very well make it for myself if I weren't so goddamn lazy, but, damnably, I am and that will always be my downfall.
I've noticed that since I've started making an effort to eat more organically, I'm feeling quite a bit better, physically. My immune system is still dreadfully compromised and will remain so until I'm able to start seeing a doctor again on a regular basis, but overall I have more energy and I'm not feeling so sluggish. I'm attempting to keep my chemical intake (and non-whole foods intake) down to cigarettes, diet soda, and the occasional food product I have to buy because of limited income or availability. Pre-packaged shit is right out the fucking window, although today I discovered that Annie's
makes a product similar to Hamburger Helper, just without all the crap in it. I bought two of them to see if they're any good.
Another benefit is that my brother appears to be afraid of organic food and refuses to eat it. He's incredibly picky about the stupidest things and despite the fact that I argued with him for almost a solid thirty minutes, he still can't quite grasp that the organic milk in the fridge is, indeed, just milk and not some strange soy or rice bullshit (which is not allowed over my threshold).
So, yay for organic milk. Boo and hiss for retarded women in Borders.