1. I made some great chicken soup yesterday.
2. Mack threw crap at me twice on Sunday and twice I was able to throw it back at him and actually hit him. And his primary wife announced that we–she and I–were going to Vegas. I can’t wait to go to Vegas with Mack’s primary wife, if only because I hear through the grapevine already the rumors about me and him and I would love to be the kind of girl with a life so scandalous that it was rumored that I was, separately, the lover of both partners in a marriage.
3. Just now, I threw a bag in the garbage from clear across the room.
4. I am King of the White Sauce. Seriously, if there’s any person without formal training who can whoop up a simple white sauce of butter, flour, and milk as well as I can, in order to pour it over chipped beef which is then spooned over toast, in order to make a meal delicious and filling and cheap as hell, I will challenge her to a duel. Throw some peas in there and it’s even vaguely good for you. From that, I can make turkey gravy, brown gravy, pepper gravy, whatever. The world is at my fingers.
5. I was ignoring my parents until my dad said, “I don’t care how convenient it is, I’m not shoving anything up my penis.” No, I have no idea. But it did break the tension that had been hanging over the van all day.
6. Plimco had a little girl with her on Sunday who was telling a ghost story about a haunted bathroom at their school and how she and her friend thought that it was probably the ghost of a girl who died in the bathroom a long time ago in a fire back when everything was made of wood–you know, 1996. When I graduated from college.
Tiny Cat Pants 
So if Mack is just Mack and there is the primary wife then wouldn’t you be the superhero of good in they dynamic Threesome?
Or like the Spectre of Spirits. Not the kind of that Mack likes but of the earth spirits that live around Casa De Coyote?
This could help out in Vegas.
Wait, you guys hit each other with shit?
> back when everything was made of wood–you know, 1996. When I graduated from college
I was class of ’89. It was all megaliths and chipped flint.
You’re on. Althought my white sauce goes over chicken and sweet cornbread (eggbread), so it isn’t an apples to apples comparison, I guess. But we could milk a blog pay per view out of this, if we play our cards right.
If I hadn’t discovered beer, I would have been class of ’86. Good Lord, I’m old.
Newscoma, we’re like monkeys just flinging poo at each other… No, not really. I don’t know what it was he threw at me. Something. I threw it back.
Wait, wait, wait, Slarti. Let me back up here now that I’ve written a check I’m not sure my butt can cash. You don’t have formal cooking training?
But the stuff you’ve made that you’ve featured on your blog looks so professional…
Man, here we’re going to have Blogger Iron Chef–secret ingredient “white sauce”–and I’m already pretty sure I’m going to lose.
But I tell you what, Blogger Iron Chef would be a hoot, wouldn’t it?
If we could find a kitchen big enough for it, I’d say we should go for it.
I have an intense desire to fly to TN, sit in your kitchen and have you whip me up some white sauce something or other. I kinda don’t care what you put it on.
If you use bacon fat instead of butter, what you have there is hillbilly gravy… of which, I am the foot massage fuckin’ master.
.
Outside of my mother and her “use the force, Luke” cooking methods, and a constant habit of watching Alton Brown, I’ve been winging it since I was a latchkey teenager trying to bribe my parents into letting me have the car by cleaning and cooking dinner.
However, if brittney comes to town, we could team up and make a killer stroga, stro, er, meat over noodle dish.:)
And if you use schmaltz instead of bacon fat or butter, it’s kosher when you put it on chipped beef.
And if there is a blogger Iron Chef I want to be there.
Hey, this brings up a question? Why is rendered pig ok but piggy-pig not? (Of course, I can point to Catholicism and note that muskrat was, for Lenten purposes, considered a fish and could be consumed on Friday…it might just be that way because it is.)
Huh? No part of pig = OK to eat. Lard = treyf. Schmaltz = rendered poultry fat.
megaliths and chipped flint
BWAH!
Oh, ok. That’s what I had thought — that pig is just out entirely. However, when you used the word I realized that I wasn’t one hundred percent sure what it meant. I Googled it and the first def was from Wikipedia (a.k.a. “fountain of misinformation”) which defines schmaltz as rendered pig, goose, or chicken fat. That really didn’t sound right, so I thought I’d ask. It was a question as sound as the source that prompted it.
Oh, and back to the main post:
“I would love to be the kind of girl with a life so scandalous that it was rumored that I was, separately, the lover of both partners in a marriage.”
Separately? Wouldn’t it be more scandalous to be their lover simultaneously? Or is the six-handed marriage just mild kink in your parts?
No, I’ve just had such poor luck with the menage a trois that I am in no hurry to try it again.
It’s too much like pro wrestling for my taste. Maybe that’s why I’ve always tagged out.
I think it might work well in situations where you have two people who have decided it would be fun to heap their ministrations on the third. Or where all three people were very good about each taking turns being the one focused on.
But it seems to me that, if everyone is intent on getting off, the chances of the two folks who know each other better pairing off and taking care of business, is pretty dang high.
I, for one, would find it completely depressing to be naked by myself in a bed while a married couple had sex next to me.
And, really, if I’m going to be reputed to be a libertine, that’s not the mental image I want in my head when people bring it up.
Instead, I want to imagine a complex social calendar in which I am sneaking one person out the front door and into a car the person sneaking through the neighbor’s yard would surely recognize if they came around front, which they won’t because they’re busy sneaking in the back door.
I want to be the secret shared between them and kept from each other.
And, I don’t want to be that in real life, because it would be stressful and inevitably lead to disaster and heartbreak.
But, in the realm of online gossip?
Sure. I can live with that.
Fuck. No wonder I swore off wimmins. They’s too complex!
… and I ain’t talkin’ about the plumbing. I coulda been a doctor.
.
OK, I’ll call on #4; I make the best white sauce, but mine goes on boiled eggs and asparagus.
Next time I’m in Nashville, at my sister’s house.
And I’m sorry, but nothing with milk in it is kosher over beef.
Oh, there’s milk in B’s recipe? I missed that. You have to use broth instead.