The Tuna Rant

All right everyone, pull up your pants and get ready for a "when I was a kid" rant about tuna.

When I was a kid, canned tuna was chock full of big meaty tuna pieces with a little bit of water (or oil, if you were one of those that preferred the oil).  You would plop out a huge glop of tuna meat, add half a container of mayo (Helmans... none of that Miracle Whip crap), and make the entire family a freakin tuna sandwich.  Half the time there was enough left to feed some homeless feral cats and most of a high school football team.

Hard to believe that such a tiny little can of tuna could provide that much tuna, but it did, and the tuna was delicious, and it was chunky, and it was plentiful.  I'm pretty sure you could feed a whole impoverished country with one can of tuna back then, it was just that good.

Now look at it!  You open up a can of tuna and its nothing but a bunch of glop in water (or oil if they even make it in oil, since oil is probably the major cause of obesity or death or something), its the consistency of the hair that gets stuck in your bathtub drain and sits there for about 6 months because you are either too lazy or didn't even realize you had 6 pounds of congealed hair in your drain until the water wouldn't drain and then you are left with a handful of slimey nasty crap that you could just as well slop onto a slice of bread and have a much better sandwich than the gooey crap in that tuna can... it doesn't even smell fishy anymore (the tuna, not the hair). 

Its so gooey and nasty and chunkless that adding ANY mayo into the goop makes it even goopier and nastier, and then try spreading that crap on bread, it just sucks the goo right up!  You can barely even make one sandwich out of that mess, and even then its like eating two slices of bread that have been soaked in a neglected aquarium.

What the hell happened to canned tuna?  I vaguely remember some sort of hoopla over the whole catching dolphins in the nets by mistake and since dolphins are cute and apparently as smart as humans (but apparently not so smart that they can't swim around a fricken tuna net, or have the wherewithal to carry a pocket knife to free themselves if they found themselves in a stupid net and before you point out that dolphins don't have pockets, I'll trump that with "oh yeah, what about that stupid blow hole thing?") and shortly after that, tuna started to suck, which leads me to this horrific thought:

What if all of this time we weren't eating tuna, we were actually eating FLIPPER!!!!

Um, frankly, I say we need to start Flipper farming because this real tuna stuff totally sucks.

Fond Childhood Memory

One winter, when I was in Elementary school, I wanted to wear shorts to school.  My mother, of course, thought this was incredibly silly.

Mom: You can't wear shorts to school, its winter!
Me: why not?
Mom: Because its winter, you don't wear shorts in winter, your legs will freeze.
Me: but its ok to wear skirts and dresses to school and freeze your legs?
Mom: Well... but you wear tights or pantyhose and those keeps your legs warm.
Me: Pffft, are you kidding me?
Mom: Don't mouth off, you just can't wear shorts to school in winter.
Dad: oh let her wear shorts to school in winter if she wants

Gosh I loved my dad!  So, off I went to Chandler Elementary School in shorts.  As the normal routine, all of the kids played in the school yard until the bell rang and then we'd line up and walk into the school and into our classrooms.  None of the other kids seemed to have noticed that I was wearing shorts in winter, but as soon as the bell rang and we lined up, one of the teachers pulled me out of the line.

Teacher: What are you wearing?
Me: shorts
Teacher: Does your mother know you're wearing shorts to school in winter?
Me: yes
Teacher: (speechless for a few seconds) You're Jon's daughter, aren't you?
Me: yes
Teacher: get inside

One winter I asked for iced tea instead of milk.  Everyone thought I was insane.  You simply don't drink ice tea in winter, it was against the law.. or something.  My argument was that people drank sodas in the winter, and they drank other juices in the winter, what's the difference between that and drinking ice tea.  Its as if it was physically impossible to make ice tea during the winter or something, it was a "seasonal" drink.  I would like to think that I had something to do with the fact that you can get iced tea any time of the year now. 

The beauty of living in a small town is that most of my teachers also taught my father, so they pretty much knew what they were getting into.



Like the time I got a little magnet in a book, and for show and tell I talked about how magnets worked.  My teacher asked me to demonstrate, and since she was wearing a metal watch on a necklace, I plopped that sucker right on the watch... I didn't realize that putting magnets on watches was a bad thing.  Apparently it was an heirloom passed down from a few zillion generations.  She just looked at me and said "Yep, you're Jon's daughter".

I loved that.

Things That Are Getting On My Nerves This Weekend

Fledgling birds!

This is nest #2 of the dysfunctional robin family.  You would think after about 10 years of having their babies fall into the mouths of my dogs, they would go build their nests someplace else, but NOOOOO!

If they don't care that their offspring meets horrible deaths every time they fling themselves out of the nest, then I shouldn't have to live with the guilt, but they don't have to toss their (sometimes) still death reflex gulping babies over the fence after the sudden squawking death at the teeth of my huskies.  Euw.

There were two (note the past tense) this morning, but one threw itself out JUST as Loki came trotting out to pee and that was the end of that.  There's one more in there, tottering at the edge of the nest each time one of the dogs has to pee, so I'm forced (through guilt) to leash the dogs up and walk them around the yard to make sure the last survivor makes it out of the yard... I'm pretty sure when its ready to fling itself out of the nest it'll run straight for me and meet its doom.

They can't wait for the weekday when they have 8 hours of safe yard while we're at work, no they wait for the weekend.  Its so bad, Loki now just lays right under the nest with his mouth open.

Morons at the mall!

Friday I ran to the mall to grab batteries for my early warning Lojack system because their automated phone thing kept calling me while I was driving around and saying someone was stealing my car.  I got behind some woman that had a zillion "I support organ donation" stickers all over her car... who appeared to be lost, stupid, blind, or something.  When she slowed to 2.5 MPH I was screaming "OHMYGAWD ITS A GOOD THING YOU SUPPORT ORGAN DONATION BECAUSE WHEN I'M THROUGH WITH YOU, SOMEONE IS GOING TO GET A WHOLE SET OF YOURS", and then when she stopped in the middle of the intersection, I realized her license plate holder said "I'm a kidney donor recipient" because I only managed to stop 2 inches from her back bumper, at which point I screamed: "YOU SHOULD HAVE RECEIVED A BRAIN DONATION YOU SCUM SUCKING..." it went downhill from there.  I'm pretty sure she now needs a heart transplant because when I laid on the horn, she jumped about 5 feet in the air and got out of the way... make that an underwear transplant.

I did get to see a mall cop SUV, a mall cop cheater segway (the kind with 3 wheels), and two county cops at Burlington Coat Factory on the way out.  I was hoping they'd be dragging the kidney woman out in cuffs with the taser things still stuck to her chest.

I blame the heat for being cranky.

Sunday With Lobsterman

As usual, hubby went on a motorcycle ride with his "gang".  I stayed at home in the air conditioning because I smooshed my finger with a sledge hammer... ok, that wouldn't have kept me from riding on the back of the bike, the 900 degree heat did have more to do with it.

Me: I see that SPF 8,000 didn't help out any today
Lobsterman: no, not really, now stop talking and spray something on this
Me: I need you to move out on the deck
Lobsterman: why the deck, its cool in here
Me: well, you're close to the smoke detector and I'm concerned your crackly skin is going to set it off
Lobsterman: shut up and spray... is that Pam, the no-stick cooking spray? 
Me: well, you are medium-well, and its olive oil, its suppose to be good for the skin

Iced Latte with Lobster Bisque Man

Hubby went on his usual weekend motorcycle ride today.  It was only 95 degrees out, but it felt like 99 degrees, therefore it was 99 freakin degrees.  I opted to stay home in the glorious air conditioning.

Instead of just being lobster man this time, thanks to the humidity he was Lobster Bisque man.

Me: Wow, I'm pretty sure you're going to glow in the dark.
Hubby: shut up, I think my nose it going to ooze off
Me: I have something for that
Hubby: is it NOT going to hurt like the time you poured alcohol on that open wound I had?
Me: probably
Hubby: stay away from me
Me: come on, that was like 20 years ago, and why do you still have that bandaid on where you got a tetnus shot three days ago
Hubby: because it'll hurt if I pull it off, so I'm just going to let it come off naturally

It was at that time that 2 monks and a hippy walked into a Starbucks... no seriously, they really did.  How can you carry on a band-aid conversation with that going on.

Memorable Workplace Moments

So this morning I was outside of work talking to some co-workers about something and I kept feeling a bug crawling on my arm.  It was very annoying, even though I kept trying to brush it off my arm on my shirt and pants, the stupid thing seemed to flit back on my arm.  I tried to swat it a few times with my hand as I kept talking, but it just kept coming back.

For some reason, as I swatted and swiped my arm against my shirt and pants, my co-workers were getting these strange looks on their faces, so I looked down at my arm and realized that a scab from a small puncture I had gotten from Meeshka during one of her storm freak outs had started bleeding all over the place.  Why is it that the smallest little wounds just gush blood.

I just pretended like spontaneous bleeding was absolutely normal, and so did they, but I'm guessing they'll probably avoid me... like everyone else.

Rolling Thunder

Hubby and I participated yesterday in Rolling Thunder. Although touted by the media as a "tribute to all veterans", the actual function of Rolling Thunder is to bring full accountability for POWs and MIAs of all wars, and reminding the government, the Media and the public that "We Will Not Forget".

We started our adventure at our chapter: Old Glory Harley Davidson where we volunteered to carry a flag (Washington State, since that's where hubby is from), and then sat around and waiting for the procession to begin. We would have a full police motorcycle escort from Old Glory down to the Pentagon, which is totally freakin cool. Anyone that has ever driven on 295 South knows what a nightmare it is, well, not with a police escort it isn't. All entrances to 295 were blocked for us by the various motorcycle police officers to ensure we had the whole road to ourselves. To those of you who were inconvenienced by this... suck it up.

We arrived at the Pentagon around 8:45 am, parked in one of the MASSIVE almost full parking lots there, and then proceeded to wait, and wait, and wait. The procession doesn't start until noon, so there was a lot of waiting, but to bide the time, there were also a lot of good vendors, relief agencies, educational booths, free water and crackers, vendors selling food (tasty foods), selling commemorative t-shirts and patches and all sorts of stuff. Plus, there was the camaraderie of a lot of good and decent people, with common interests, common beliefs, and good stories to pass the time. THANKFULLY there was also plenty of sunscreen, but sunscreen can only do so much. I have to say that the highlight of the waiting was the misting booths that the fire departments had set up, where you could walk into a tent and get gloriously cold mist sprayed on your entire body. AAAAH!

Go here for some pictures of the event and the actual ride.

There is also a great video out there that shows all stages of the ride.

Anyhoo, so we waited and waited and waited, and finally, around 2pm, it was our turn to head out into the streets of DC. Seeing the crowds of people lined up to watch, waving American flags, cheering, waving was awe inspiring and brought a tear to the eye. People on the sides would hold out their hands and riders would low five them (as the passenger, we did some of that, swooping in close enough to reach hands). Seeing the Army soldier and Marine standing in the middle of the road saluting is very touching as well. They stand there the entire time (the parade takes about 4 hours before all bikes make it through). The whole thing just flies by in a blur and much too soon, its over.

Most of the bikers parked in designated fields to stay and watch concerts or walk through the city. We bailed and headed back home as the pups had been locked up for longer than they normally are. Once we got some rest and sprayed sunburn relief stuff all over us, we went out to Rita's for some soothing custard.

It was very refreshing.

Frappucinos with Vroomy Man

A while back I met hubby at Starbucks after he went on a long, relaxing motorcycle ride, leaving me home to cook, clean, and clear 40 acres with a paring knife.  Ok, fine, I was napping, shut up.

I was cruising through twitter and saw the news that Bret Michaels, front-man for the '80's group Poison, was on death's door and not expected to live.  I would just like to say that I have no idea how the guy signs his name to things.  My name is long enough, but I can't imagine trying to fit: Bret Michaels front man for the '80's group Poison on everything.

Anyhoo, I found an article that explains why BMFMFT80GP was on death's door.

Me: That lead singer for Poison is on death's door.
Vroomy Man: I thought he was dead already.
Me: no, not unless by dead already you meant like 15 minutes ago, which may be the case because this news item is an hour old.
Vroomy Man: no, like years ago
Me: you must have been thinking about his career
Vroomy Man: yeah probably.
Me: he had a subarachnoid hemorrhage
Vroomy Man: Well, those spider bites can be dangerous
Me: um, no... he's bleeding at the base of the brain
Vroomy Man: well, I'd be more worried that the spider laid eggs there
Me:

General Rambling

Listening to a Talking Heads song "Stay Up Late", David Byrne mentions "cute as a button". I wondered where that came from and just what the hell does it mean.

So, I looked it up on the inter webs. WikiAnswers thinks it came from some moron that was talking about a button quail, and then showed me a picture of a penis. Ok, it didn't, but apparently the Wiki is having all sorts of issues where contributors (meaning anyone with half a brain, or no brain at all) can provide content that other people (meaning anyone with no brain) actually take as gospel. You can go look that whole fiasco up on your own, as the iPad blogger interface I have is incapable of allowing me to link interesting stuff in my post, and I'm generally way too lazy to fix it in "post production" meaning: after I hit a button and upload it. I hope they fix that soon.

Back to the whole button conundrum. Another reputable (because they said so) place said it was a saying about an actual button, because buttons are cute. Of course, their opinion may be a bit jaded as that explanation came from the button fetish site.

Since nobody really knows where it came from or what it really means, I think we should stop saying it, because it could actually be some kind of code word used to revive brain eating zombies, and the next person you say that to could leap up and rip your skull off. I'm just saying. Don't blame me if you get your skull ripped off.

There's a new iPhone application out that lets you find sex offenders for free. Thank gawd, because whenever I needed a good sex offender, I got tired of paying for the application to find them. You can never find a good sex offender when you need one.

Lastly, I don't know if you've ever seen the movie "LA Story", and if you haven't, you should. Its pretty stupid, but it mocks LA and from what I hear, it mocks it pretty well. There's a part where a traffic sign writes to Steve Martin's character and tells him things to do, once again proving that everyone can get Xanax but me.

Anyhoo, on the way to our usual Starbucks there is one of those solar powered information signs on the side of the road. I'm thinking that either its got issues, or the person typing in what it needs to say has issues because its never... really.... normal.

One day it said TERROR, then gave a 1-800 number. Just one screen that said TERROR, next screen 1-800 number. Hmm. Is it telling me that around the curve there is terror, and I should dial that number. Is it telling me that if I want some terror, I should call the 800 number, or if I see some terror to call the 800 number. I'm thinking that if I actually saw some terror I would probably dial 911, because years of constant bombardment of the number has me trained to dial it for things like terror. I couldn't possibly memorize the quickly flashing and long 800 number while I drove (let alone write it down, because if I can't dial my damn phone and drive without getting a ticket, I'm pretty sure dragging out a piece of paper and pen to write down an 800 number is right up there with a fine), but I wonder if I actually did dial 911 and reported terror, would I be told to dial the 800 number, or do they have the capability to just forward me to the 800 number. These things concern me, as I always like to be prepared for terror, and know what number to call if I see it, or want to order some.

Yesterday the sign said something different, leading me to believe that terror was gone, so I could relax. This time it said: Click it, or... highly enforced. Hmm, no clue there.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Frappucinos with Lobsterman

Recently hubby went on a motorcycle ride to escort World War II veterans to the war memorial (his group does it every time there's a flight of veterans).  It was hot and sunny.  He didn't (as usual) put on any sun screen.  We later met for Starbucks (as usual).  Here is that conversation.

Me: You got a bit of sun today, I see.
Hubby: yes
Me: Probably should have put on some sun screen.
Hubby: ya think?
Me: that's gonna hurt tonight, guess I can expect you to scream like a little girl every time I roll over and bump into you.
Hubby: yes, but I don't scream like a little girl
Me: right
Me: oh crap, I've stepped in some dog poo, give me your straw so I can scrape it off
Hubby: use your own straw, its right in front of you.  Besides, I'm going to use mine to dribble cold frap onto my blistering skin

Married life quality time.

Sh*t That Don't Work

The kitchen sink has been around forever, like since the 1920's and are you telling me in all that time NOBODY has ever invented a freakin kitchen sink plug that actually PLUGS????

The crap plugs they come with are a joke, I mean seriously, do they actually think they can give you something that never screws in right, drains the water if its not just perfectly set in there, and by the time you get the freakin thing in there you're so pissed off  especially after finding out that all that fidgeting and messing around STILL DIDN'T GET THE THING TO PLUG UP THE FREAKIN SINK!

Yeah, so apparently adding additional holes in the sink doesn't help either, but it does feel good.

Please note: no sinks were harmed in the making of this blog post, nor would I waste perfectly good ammo on a sink.

Take the Challenge

I was a bit horrified when I saw the latest Activia commercial where Jamie Lee (this is the only gig I can get) Curtis is asking people to send in their videos about their experience with Activia (the poop yogurt).

The actual commercial aired one viewer's video, and thankfully it was pretty stupid.  I totally expected something like this:

Chocolate and Depression

I read an article that said that chocolate causes depression.

The only depression chocolate will cause is the one on your face in the shape of my fist if you try to take it away from me.