My mom is hosting a gigantor garage sale this Saturday, one that I have contributed pounds and pounds of stuff to. Tough break for Mom: I won't be there. Of all the Saturdays to pick from, the sale falls on the day S and I leave for Colorado. Luckily, Mama O will be helping Mama W.
I've spent the last few days helping my mom organize stuff, and more specifically, pricing a ton of my junk. I made a HUGE box of stuff that is basically 25 cents for anything in there. I figure I can make some laundry money from old snowglobes and magnets and Smokey Bear pins. It is oddly depressing (or liberating? or a lesson in the free market?) when you really don't think most of the things you have owned could fetch more than two bits from the average stranger. I just hope my nose flute goes to a good home.
Kidding! I would never sell my nose flute!
Also, what is it about this commercial that is so grating? And why is it when it comes on I can't look away? I want to climb inside of it and turn the radio off and tell those girls to knock it off.
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Get Out Ghostrider!
We are totally watching Top Gun right now...I'm not sure why. Well, I mean, I know why, it's on AMC, which stands for "American Movie Classics", which Top Gun is. AMC has to show it because there aren't any channels called "Super Rad Awesomeness With Homo-Erotic Overtones."
Cougar is losing it...he's on vapors, Merlin is concerned...and Mav and Goose are headed back to save the day!
I concocted a little recipe for dinner tonight, nothing fancy or complicated or particularly original, but it was a crowd pleaser. I browned up some sweet Italian sausage (which was removed from its casing--one of my favorite cooking things to do--you can make fun farting noises when you remove the meat from the casing). Then, I took the browned sausage out of the pan, and sizzled up some onion and garlic in the drippings.
(Pull up, Cougar!!! We're too loose!!)
Then, I poured in a giant can of diced tomatoes, some tomato paste, some S&P, a bay leaf, and the rind of some old Parmiggiano Reggiano. Mmmmmm!
(By the way, Cougar just declared that he's "holding on too tight". And he's "lost the edge." Mmkay? Colonel Baldy is NOT happy with Mav because his ego is sooooo writing checks his body can't cash.
Aaaaannnyhoo. Add some capers at the end, which you'll leave out next time because the husband didn't like, then mix the whole thing with pasta and more Parm. Scrumptious.
By the way, Colonel Baldy informed Maverick (just before informing Goose and him they are bound for Miramar) that he's a good pilot..."maybe TOO good." Is it really a liability to be TOO good a fighter pilot? I mean, I would think that would be an asset to being a fighter pilot. Now, if you THINK you're too good, but you're not, that's one thing, but if you're ACTUALLY too good...what does this say about the rest of the fighter pilot community? Should Maverick lower his standards and NOT participate in any sort of inverted photo shoots with enemy bogeys? Are we Communists?
Deep.
Cougar is losing it...he's on vapors, Merlin is concerned...and Mav and Goose are headed back to save the day!
I concocted a little recipe for dinner tonight, nothing fancy or complicated or particularly original, but it was a crowd pleaser. I browned up some sweet Italian sausage (which was removed from its casing--one of my favorite cooking things to do--you can make fun farting noises when you remove the meat from the casing). Then, I took the browned sausage out of the pan, and sizzled up some onion and garlic in the drippings.
(Pull up, Cougar!!! We're too loose!!)
Then, I poured in a giant can of diced tomatoes, some tomato paste, some S&P, a bay leaf, and the rind of some old Parmiggiano Reggiano. Mmmmmm!
(By the way, Cougar just declared that he's "holding on too tight". And he's "lost the edge." Mmkay? Colonel Baldy is NOT happy with Mav because his ego is sooooo writing checks his body can't cash.
Aaaaannnyhoo. Add some capers at the end, which you'll leave out next time because the husband didn't like, then mix the whole thing with pasta and more Parm. Scrumptious.
By the way, Colonel Baldy informed Maverick (just before informing Goose and him they are bound for Miramar) that he's a good pilot..."maybe TOO good." Is it really a liability to be TOO good a fighter pilot? I mean, I would think that would be an asset to being a fighter pilot. Now, if you THINK you're too good, but you're not, that's one thing, but if you're ACTUALLY too good...what does this say about the rest of the fighter pilot community? Should Maverick lower his standards and NOT participate in any sort of inverted photo shoots with enemy bogeys? Are we Communists?
Deep.
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