I Can Has Pizza?

Our stove died, like, a week and a half ago, so I have been without pizza for a bit longer than usual. We’re at critical mass here, folks, because a Sarah without supreme pizza is a Sarah you really, really don’t want to be around.

I would gleefully urinate in Nancy Pelosi’s Botox stash for just one slice – with all the Canadian bacon, bell peppers, mushrooms, pepperoni, and plenty of mozzarella. Oh, man. I guess that I could go to Pizza Hut, but a) their food sucks, and b) well, do we really need a “b” when “a” is a pretty-good reason?

Then again, I would do that peeing-in-the-Botox thing anyway, pizza or not.

Just saying.

Bacon!

As everyone whose opinion matters will tell you, bacon is the ultimate meat candy: the one pork product that stands above all others, mocking them in its crispy, sweet way. Give me a couple of slices fresh from the pan and I’m happy. Crumble them up on my cheeseburger and I’m ecstatic. But talk about better ways to prepare bacon and I’m downright crazy.

Some of us (i.e. family) were talking about bacon’s ultimate goodness when I mentioned that it is entirely possible – nay, mandatory! – to interweave one’s bacon and bake it. In the example, you’ll be smothering your bacon square with cheese, then turning it into a bacon and cheese roll, which is fantastic and all. But the bacon, lettuce, and tomato sandwich you can make instead will have one-hundred-percent bacon coverage. Could life possibly be any more perfect? I think not.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to hop over to my health-insurance company’s Web site to find out if there are any decent cardiologists in the coverage network. I’m probably going to need one soon.

The Main Event's Almost Here!

The World Series of Poker Main Event starts tomorrow! I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m excited. This is the biggest event in all of poker, with this year’s first prize being…well…nobody knows yet, but it should be frockin’ huge! The poker boom is still going strong in Vegas, judging by the fact that more than one of this year’s WSOP events sold right out – including the $1,000 “stimulus special” tourney.

Sponsors are really getting into the Main Event, too, albeit in not-so-great ways. Jack Link’s Beef Jerky will give you $100 worth of product if you show four Jacks during the ME. Whether your hand wins or loses, you’re getting some beef jerky. This could be awesome in some situations, but, you know, not others.

I’m waiting to see a quad Jacks versus royal flush hand; the guy who loses with the awesome-looking Jacks is going to be so pissed if he isn’t in the money yet. Because nothing adds to the agony of a horrible beat quite like being handed a big bag full of beef jerky while you’re vacating the seat that you just lost because of some donkey. “Gee, thanks for coughing up ten thousand dollars, pal, and it really sucks that you’re going home with NOTHING! But here...have some meat snacks.”

On the other hand: if I were playing the ME and found myself losing my seat with quad Jacks, I could always call up Sasquatch and have him help me get some sweet, sweet revenge.

Made of Win (Omnivore Style)

If I were a dinosaur, I think that I'd have giant arms, unlike the wimpy T-Rex, for the purpose of hoisting all those many, many pounds of awesome pork products to my face.

Holidays; Candy

Have a wonderful Good Friday and Easter, everyone. I'm slightly disappointed because Mom renewed the Peep Control Act of 2006 for yet another year. Sigh. Just because I brought home twelve boxes of Peeps the day after Easter ONE time...and just because half of those Peeps were still festering in her cupboard when I brought home a buttload of Halloween Peeps...well...that doesn't give her the right to ban them, does it? Apparently, it does.

Oh, well. I'll just have to enjoy my sickly-sweet, pure-sugar treats vicariously...as usual:

Ridiculous Ideas from the Texas Legislature

Some Texas politicians are scum. If you don’t believe me, check out H.B. 738, related to inattentive driving. Should this piece of garbage pass, it will be illegal for Texas drivers to do the following while operating our vehicles:

Interact with pets
Interact with a passenger
Eat or drink
Interact with your stereo, CD player, MP3 player, et cetera (including changing the station or track)

Et cetera, so forth and so on, blah, blah, blah. These are just the most outrageous things that Rep. Chente Quintanilla included in this piece of crap.

Up yours, Quintanilla. You’re an embarrassment to Texans, because you’re in league with the nanny state. Instead of holding people accountable for the things that they choose to do, your introduced legislation attempts to prevent all of us from doing normal, routine things – like talking with passengers or taking a sip of soda while we’re going to work to earn the taxes that pay your useless, miserable ass.

What sort of scum-sucking, anti-freedom oxygen thief would even think of introducing legislation like this?

Strangeness Abounds

The other night, Youngest Bro and his girlfriend went out for dinner. They got pizza, but didn’t eat the whole thing. The leftovers stayed in the back seat of YB’s car, along with their bread sticks, while they went into Walmart to do whatever it is that you do in Walmart when you’re out on a date.

When YB and The Girlfriend went back to the car afterward, they noticed that one of the car’s doors was slightly ajar. Further investigation revealed that the door was open because a pizza thief had opened it, swiped all of their leftover food, and left – all before they returned to the car.

The good news is that The Girlfriend’s purse was not on the floorboard, where she normally leaves the thing when she goes into a store. That night, for whatever reason, she decided to secure the purse in YB’s trunk before going into Walmart. Good for her.

The family and I agree that, if the person who swiped the pizza and breadsticks was hungry, then it’s a sad situation indeed. If that’s the case, our prayer is that the individual is able to find a job, or whatever he or she needs to obtain food without lurking in parking lots, hoping to get lucky. We’ve been hungry before, and don’t want to see other people in the same situation.

On the other hand: if the theft was one of those random, jerky things that delinquents do when they’re bored, we all hope that the sack of crap gets diarrhea for a week straight, with a burning bunghole that doesn’t quit.

The next day, my oldest brother called home to tell us that, the night before, he had stopped at Walmart – the one in his entirely-different part of the state – because he saw a car catch on fire in the lot. He jumped out of his truck to be sure that everyone in the vehicle had gotten out okay. In the middle of doing this random, decent thing, OB heard the distinct sound of his pickup leaving the location.

He turned around to see it being driven off. Because he, not thinking about anything but the people in the vehicle that had just caught on fire, didn’t turn off the engine and take the keys with him. I wouldn’t have either, I don’t think.

The good news is that the police found the truck a few miles away, unharmed. The bad news is that they couldn’t find the keys. OB’s keychain had his truck and apartment keys on it. His insurance card, in the glove box, has his address printed right on the front. So, he’s having both his truck and apartment locks changed.

This is just weird, though, folks, because both of these things happened on the same night, in different parts of Texas, but to the same family. Weirdness. Is it a full moon? Halloween? Or just another one of those weird spells that happen to some people?

Yummy, Yummy Snack Time

Let me tell you something, folks: I’m not a big fan of sea kittens, because they don’t taste very good to me. But this week’s meals included a lovely assortment of God’s other yummy, yummy creatures.

We made egg rolls with sausage sty kittens. I had to grind up the carrots and cabbage dirt kittens, but the work was well worth it, because those egg rolls tasted great. A little soy sauce in the filling, plus some sweet and sour sauce for dipping, and I’m in egg-roll heaven.

Then there was Grit Casserole night. Hint: the more cheddar cheese you mix in with the grits, sty kitten, and eggs, the better.

And of course, I went to Sonic for their one-dollar Jr. burgers. I'm pretty sure that they use real cow pasture kitten in them, unlike some other chains that come to mind.

There is, however, one exception to my "I don't like sea kittens" rule. I will, on occasion, eat a tuna-fish sea-kitten sandwich, provided that the kitten is not too dry, and is slathered in plenty of Miracle Whip.

Weird Conversations with Mom

My Mom and I really need to get out more.

Mom: I have two choices for you.
Me: I choose “Cleveland.”
Mom: “Cleveland” is “Do the dishes.”
Me: Then I choose “Springfield.”
Mom: Good. “Springfield” is “Make dinner.”
Me: “Austin.”
Mom: “Do dishes and make dinner.”
Me: “Los Angeles.”
Mom: “Clean the bathroom.”
Me: Fine. “Akron.”
Mom: “Clean the kitchen.”
Me: Which option is “Go play online” anyway?
Mom: None.
Me: I give up. I’ll go with “Springfield.”
Mom: Good choice. The good knives are in the dish drainer.

Peanut Butter is Awesome

Peanut butter, not beer, is proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy. (Sorry, Benny Franklin, but I’m disagreeing with you, however brilliant and patriotic you might have been.)

A PB and J on white bread cheers you up, fills your stomach, and satisfies the sugar requirement of your daily diet. When you’re feeling really depressed, a spoonful of Reese’s peanut butter – which is the most awesome PB ever made, mostly because of the insane sugar buzz you get just from smelling the stuff – makes everything all right again. It’s even better than a spoonful of chocolate frosting.

Best of all, peanut butter on the end of your finger attracts The Annoying Dog. In our house, The Annoying Dog is Dad’s blue-tick coon hound. She’s named Highway because that’s where Dad found her. And because she kind of looks like asphalt. Asphalt with white-chocolate chips.

Highway likes to make all sorts of strange noises. She does a half-woof, half-whine for attention. She has a low, dragged-out grunt of sorts when she wants food. And she has a strange sound in the back of her throat, that sounds like a pinto-bean fart inside a sleeping bag, when you do something that she doesn’t like (such as feeding her dry dog food).

But she also adores peanut butter. Unable to resist the urge to lick my finger completely clean, she floats across the room, her tongue hanging out one side of her big, loud mouth.

“Goooood dog,” I say. “Goooood girl. Baby girl’s gonna shut up in a minute, isn’t she? Oh, yes, she is.”

Yep. I will baby talk the dog when I’m feeding her peanut butter. Because I’m giddy over the fact that, when her tongue is temporarily glued to her palate, she can’t make a single sound.

God bless you, JIF creamy.

Stuff That Rocks

Tonight, let's talk about Stuff That Rocks.

One: Sonic has a dollar menu. The Jr. burger? Worth a dollar plus tax. Yay! Now I can afford to grease up my arteries a little more often. Thank you, Sonic, for making your killer burgers more affordable to us po' folk.

Two: I just picked up another David Sedaris book (not his latest, but that will come soon enough, I'm sure). If you like creative nonfiction, you should read this guy's collections. He's hilarious.

Three: Japanese people trying to teach other Japanese people how to speak English. This video...oh, man. I had to capture the audio and make a ring tone, because it makes me laugh so hard every time I see or hear it.

My Super-secret Cheesecake Recipe

This is a big secret, so don't tell anybody else, okay? This recipe has been in the family for, like, months, so I'm going to be very upset if any of you spread this all over the Internet.

Take one Oreo pie crust. Remove the plastic lid and set aside.

Open one can of Philadelphia cheesecake filling. Allow to warm up to room temperature.

Dump the filling into the crust and spread it around with, oh, a knife or something.

Cut, serve, and gorge. Optional: cherry pie filling as a topping. Or strawberries. Or even chocolate sauce, if you're feeling adventurous.

Every holiday, I work myself to the point of collapse to create this super-special cheesecake. My parents and sibs love my recipe, and beg me to make my cheesecake more often. But this is such hard work, and so time consuming, that I can do it only a few times a year without suffering from mental exhaustion.

These are supposed to be MY egg rolls, but all of you cat lovers know how THAT goes.

Say hi to Scrappy. Also known as Scrapola or Get Your Fat Head Out of My Food.

Her likes include: Chinese food, wet cat food, potato chips, chili and that evil kitty toy that's basically a big plastic ring with a ball trapped inside.

Her dislikes include: stupid humans who don't share their food, the vacuum cleaner, her brother and sisters.