Free Samples

Yesterday I made a comment on Facebook regarding the freakin' snacks that seem to be de rigueur after any youth sporting event. Just because you ran around for 45 minutes to an hour DOES NOT entitle you to a fucking cookie. I can see a drink, sure. But we have an OBESITY PROBLEM in this country. Probably because of shit like that. "Oh, I moved my body.....I must need a damn snack!" No ya don't. It's that kind of thinking that has created a society in which half the population is grossly overweight. Living in Colorado, there is an emphasis on healthy lifestyles and so you don't see a TON of fat people but they're out there. Someone commented that it's really sad to see a person that can barely fit in a booth chowing down on a Big Mac and Super-size fries. I have to wonder if at some point people just give up. I saw some overweight people at Costco yesterday with a cart full of shit and a "Churro" (fried bread w/sugar on it) in each meaty fist and thought, "Well, there you go". Let me back up and say I KNOW there are people out there that are overweight and it's not their fault. I was one of them. In spite of rigorous exercise and a moderate diet, I weighed a LOT more than I deserved to courtesy of my jacked up thyroid. Those three years I spent trying to figure it out were amongst the worst I've had. It sucks. I felt like wearing a sign saying, "This is not my real body". So those that are suffering from a medical condition have my genuine sympathy. I hesitated to even write about this 'cause it hits close to home. But if you're walking around with a bucket of chicken, please don't complain when you have to pay for an extra airplane seat. You need to live with the decisions you've made regarding your health and body and I don't think I deserve to be squeezed out because someone else has made poor choices. Dave and I were talking about our nation's obsession with food and he made the observation that during yesterday's aforementioned Costco venture, people are all over those free samples like flies on shit. And he's right. He himself got pushed out of the way trying to snag a pizza sample and said, "screw it". Dave is a pretty burly guy, so the very fact that he was squeezed out by a mob is telling. These people are like vultures. The combination of "free" and "food" is apparently far too tempting to resist for most. I don't get it. It's obviously something ingrained in the American psyche. Kind of like the whole credit card thing. If you can't afford it, don't buy it or you are going to pay the consequences eventually. But it seems that many of us just can't stop ourselves. It's, "I want this and I want it now, consequences be damned". You want to not be fat and poor? Stop crying about it and put down the Whopper and the nearly maxed-out credit card. Pretty simple. That being said, it's not like I'm perfect. You start putting out tequila samples and I'll take your ass OUT. Get outta my way. But that's an issue for another day. 

Dog Balls

Well, after a rather protracted viewing period, Stripey the carp has been buried in the backyard. He was kinda like Michael Jackson in that it took awhile to get him interred. Only because we forgot that he was on the deck. He was looking pretty grim by the time this morning rolled around. As Dave said, "that's one thing to check off the to-do list". Bury one giant carp? Check. In other pet related news, I was laying in bed this morning watching the news. There's a segment about spaying and neutering your dog! Well, duh. What I was not expecting was THE PAIR OF FAKE DOG BALLS that the veterinarian produced. That's right. Prosthetic DOG BALLS. People in Haiti are starving, Brainer is walking around in last year's loafers and people are spending money on FAKE DOG BALLS. Sorry, I can't say it enough. They looked like mini breast implants. You know, I was thinking that Grady sure was looking sheepish what with his empty sack and all. It's totally interfering with his game. None of the bitches will give him the time of day. Oh wait! That's right! He doesn't give a shit about the ladies because he is a fucking EUNICH. The vet said, and I quote, "It's a nice cosmetic effect for that special owner". Oh, that owner is "special" alright. God. These things are called "Neuticles". So being in possession of an inquiring mind, I looked up this company online. Over 300,000 sets sold!!!!! Nice to know that there are that many dogs walking around with a set of fake nuts. Dave said that lack of nuts is one of the best things about having the damn dog fixed......I believe HIS quote was, "Who wants to look at a big ol' pair of dog balls?". I concur. They're particularly disturbing on really short-haired dogs. It's like, "put those things away". Too much information. Okay, so not only are they peddling their fake balls, they also have ear prosthetics. Perfect for the dog whose ears don't stand up but really wishes they did. So I am thinking that I'm going to take Grady in this week to have a little work done. He's getting fake balls and his ears are going to stand up straight. Then I'm going to get him a gold chain and a pouffy toupee. I think that's what all of the sock-eating was about. He wanted to kill himself because he looked so crappy. Problem solved. 

Today's Your Birthday

Today is my friend Brainer's birthday. He's the oft mentioned GBFF (gay best friend forever). I love him. We met in college when he was pretending he wasn't gay. Uh......I'd be heckling him from the cheap seats if he was a stage actor given the quality of THAT performance. Boo. Brainer says naughty things and gets away with it. I like this. He claims that his illegal maid died and sat decomposing in his foyer for weeks because he couldn't find another maid to clean up the mess. He also claims that he's poaching natural gas from his neighbor because he's poor. As I told him, I think "poor gay guy" is an oxymoron. Yes, the economy has caused all of us to pull in the horns but the truly fab find a way. He, however, insists that he is truly in need. Of Gucci and Prada. He feels that in lieu of donating to Haiti, we as a nation should turn our thoughts to him. So, text 12967 to donate $10 to Brainer. Charity begins at home. We can't have our gays walking around in last year's fashions. Screw "Hats for Hobos". I'm launching "Gucci for Gays". Sorry, B but this is far too important a cause to limit it strictly to you. If you are in need, surely there are others out there just like you who are wearing 2009 Prada Wolf Slippers. And driving 2007 Mercedes. Text like the wind, people......TEXT LIKE THE WIND!!!!!!!!

Owie.

I actually went to see one of my husband's shows last night. Had lotsa fun. Didn't stay out too terribly late and had a really good time with a Facebook friend who is now a "real" friend. Funny how that works. It's kinda like online dating.......not that I'd know of course, having been with my damn husband since before the internet was invented (word up Al Gore), but it's how I imagine it. You talk to somebody online, they seem really cool but in the back or your mind you're wondering if they're actually a wierdie. In this case, my instincts were correct and this person is way cool. As is her husband. So that worked out. Fun, fun, fun, blah, blah, blah. Got home and relieved a sleepy 18-year old manny (word up Big C.....lotsa words up today) and went to bed. I woke up and noticed there was Neosporin on the counter. Jack always has been and remains to this day quite the band-aid freak so I assumed the wind blew the wrong way and he was egregiously injured and required minor medical attention. Oh no. That's not what happened. Jack woke up and said, "Mom, mom!!!! You won't believe what THAT thing (points at Grady) did to the Big C!" Can't wait to hear this. "He wasn't looking and Grady came flying over the couch (told ya he can fly.....Air Grady) and scratched C all down his side and he was bleeding all over the place and we had to wrap him up in toilet paper and that's why the Neosporin was out". Okay, as much fun as I had last night, I sincerely thing that sticking around for THIS show might have been just as good. The manny, wrapped in toilet paper and clinging to life as Jack attends to wounds inflicted by a flying dog. Huh. Why go out? I should start selling tickets to this circus.

@#$%!

Oh, here's a good one.......Jack has decided that he is starting a "swear jar". For ME. I honestly don't think he gives a rip if I swear, I think it's all part of his hustle. As has been established he's quite the little business man. "He's not a businessman, he's a BUSINESS, man!". And quite the Little Lebowski Urban Achiever. Oh, I'm onto him. He's got a mouth like a truck driver. While I'm not a proponent of childhood profanity, I would rather have him say "shit" when he thinks I'm not looking than say "ain't" or "I don't got none" which would cause me to smack the white off of him. You can actually get away with a great deal of profanity if you are otherwise well spoken. It just makes you seem rather colorful and irreverent. At least that's what I'm telling myself. Anyway, my point is that he is once again trying to shake me down for money. He saw an opportunity to make a buck and ran with it. First of all, he tried to begin fining me before I even knew that the program had been instated. NOT FAIR. I was on the phone. Swearing. You can't do that. His dad set him straight there, thankfully. That's like taxation without representation. I remember something about that from School House Rock. His next move was to give me a list of swear words. HIS list. Again, NOT FAIR. If you can say it on TV, it is NOT a swear word. I am not putting money in a jar for saying "ass" or "crap". Sorry. Not gonna happen. And as I've heard him say "shit" I'm not going for that either. Pretty much the only thing I'll cop to is the F-bomb. I probably shouldn't say it. I actually wasn't aware that I was saying it in his presence as even I know that that's not cool. So he does have a (misguided) point there. I'll tell you what though......because I am onto him, I will be goddamned if I am going to utter anything fineable in his presence. That swear jar is empty and it will remain so. Good thing he's not a reader of Deep Thoughts. Shit. 

Ass-less What????

I generally quite enjoy the Facebook page "Moms Who Drink and Swear". Probably because I'm a mom who drinks and swears. I do, however, have to take exception to something the head "Mom" said today. She referred to "ass-less chaps". While I think the idea of ass-less chaps is as funny as the next gal, I actually thought for a second. It happens from time to time. Aren't chaps, by definition "ass-less"? Wouldn't PANTLESS chaps be the effect we're going for here? I'm pretty sure I'm right. There you go. An actual deep thought. Discuss. Chaps for all my friends.

WTF's For Dinner?

I'll tell you what's for dinner. Stroganoff. Really, really yummy stuff. The recipe came from my grandma's friend Camille, so it's been aptly dubbed, "Camille's Stroganoff". Like "Taco Pie" this was a staple in my family growing up and is quite popular with the Christie's Three as well. Jack has even made it. It's that easy. A freakin' monkey could prepare this meal. No offense, Jack. So here you go!

Camille's Stroganoff

1/2 c minced onion

1 clove garlic, minced

1/4 c butter

1 lb ground beef (or turkey)

2 T flour

2 t salt

1/4 t pepper

1 lb mushrooms, sliced

1 can cream of chicken soup

1 c sour cream

1 16 oz pkg egg noodles

Brown meat. Stir in flour, salt, pepper and mushrooms. Cook for 5 minutes over medium heat. Stir in soup. Simmer uncovered for ten minutes. Stir in sour cream. Heat thoroughly, Serve over noodles prepared according to package directions and drained. 

What'd I tell ya? Monkey-easy. And perfect for a chilly night. Enjoy,  Deep Thoughts peeps. And remember to tell all your facebook friends to go to the "Deep Thoughts From Mollie Christie" facebook page and become a fan, damn it! Fans! I need fans!!!!!! Oooh....may be going a touch crazy. Will go breathe into paper bag now.