The More You Know

Thursday, August 26th, 2010

The song “I Love Paris” has been forever ruined for me by the Meg Ryan film, “French Kiss“. I cannot sing that song without compulsively adding “… because my love is theeeeere… with this slut girlfriend.”  Thank you, Hollywood, for ruining that for me.

I may have mentioned this before, but I get the total heavies when I use a public restroom and the seat is still warm from the person before.  How long was that person sitting there that it they warmed up the seat? Were they writing a book?  Save it for home, sister.  No crapping in Target. Unacceptable. Next stall.

Those ‘wacky, wailing, inflatable, arm-flailing tube men’ used by car washes and Radio Shacks to get people’s attention? Yeah, I hate those. Like hate those. I can’t look at them for too long; I must avert my eyes. Some people are afraid of clowns, though I think that’s pretty cliche now.  I don’t know one person who says, “Oh, yeah, man! I love me some CLOWN!”  Unless, they’re like Juggalos or something.  I can legitimately say these things unnerve me. I won’t pee my pants or run down the block or anything, but I definitely would prefer they not exist.

I have 32 cookbooks, including mixology books (for cocktails).  I don’t know that I’ve ever cooked one thing out of them. Maybe some cookies… but I always have these great plans to cook my way through various cookbooks, but really, I’d rather read the recipes than actually cook them.  Cookbooks without pictures are lame. This one is my favorite.

And finally, I don’t like warm carrots or fresh green beans, in general.  Spicy carrots, sure. But not hot, or warm. Or, at least, I’ve never had a warm carrot I was particularly fond of. I can eat raw carrots all day, but warm it up and I’m out. Green beans are hit and miss for me. If they’re fried and served with wasabi ranch like at Mo’s? Hell yes. But that kind of negates the purpose of a vegetable.  I do like them canned, which I realize these days is a big no-no what with all the creepies in canned foods and sodium out the wazoo, but I just prefer the canned ones. Fresh ones are like eating pipe cleaners. Furry veg fail.

Welcome to my neuroses.

New-ish in Life, random
  • 8/26/10 9:25 Theresa:

    I do the exact same thing with my cookbooks. I mostly get them because I love looking at the pictures, but I’ve only cooked maybe a handful of recipes from them. I keep telling myself I should use the more, but the Internet is just so much more searchable :)

    Oh, and about the green beans – I recently discovered that it has a lot to do with what kind of fresh green beans you’re working with. The ones I get from my grocery store are usually hard, fibrous, and furry – blech. But a few weeks ago I got a different type from the farmer’s market and they were fantastic! Tender and not at all furry. If only I could remember what kind they were…


  • 8/26/10 9:28 Ms. Pants:

    I hate that Texas serves salsa warm. What the fuck is that? Salsa should be COLD, bitches.
    Ms. Pants´s last post: Guest Post- Storytime with Mama Pants!


    • 8/26/10 9:35 Joelle:

      I don’t mind a warm salsa in the right context, but if you’re serving me chips n’ salsa, the chips should be warm and the salsa cool.


  • 8/26/10 20:05 jules:

    I with you on the green beans-i get canned ones from family members-yum! But fresh ones are furry and squeaky. The squeaky things gets me. I have to admit that one time I sauteed some in butter with pine nuts and they were really good. But just that one time!


  • 8/28/10 14:48 Cath:

    The thing I don’t like about green beans is when I chew them, I can actually hear them rubbing on my teeth. You know, like if you rubbed your finger on your teeth, you can hear a squeaking noise. Am I nuts or is there anyone else out there experiencing this?

    And clowns really do freak me out. You can thank John Wayne Gacey (sp) for that…


  • 8/28/10 14:49 Cath:

    Just saw your comment, Jules. Glad to know I’m not alone! I’ve never met a green bean (frozen, canned, fresh or otherwise), that didn’t creep me out.


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