Baryshnikov, Stroganoff and Refried Beans

The birds outside my kitchen window have been quiet this morning. It looks like a rain storm or two might be rolling in to the holler soon, I reckon the birds must be tucked away under the hemlock, riding the storm out.

Here in the trailer, it's a little nippy but the coffee's steaming and the "classic vinyl" XM station is stroking my addled nerves with the sounds of Cream and "Sunshine of Your Love."

I say addled because I've still not recovered from last week at the Asylum. I'm still having PTSD flashbacks of angry phone calls from LaShamwow or LaPorchewreck or whatever the hell the customer's name was. I had quoted a job for her back in early March, with a 4-6 week lead time, but she didn't place the order until almost April. Now she's got her butt floss in a wad because her customer wants to know why it's not ready yet.

Ima need for some people to stop lying to their customers, then having a freak out fit on me because I can't work miracles.


I woke up early yesterday morning, apparently my body has forgotten the rule about sleeping in on Saturdays. I'd been having wild dreams about some big, burly dark skinned man with long black hair who apparently thought I was the greatest thing since refried beans, then woke up with every kinda ache and pain you can think of.

Okay.. I'm not sure if the aches and pains had anything to do with the dream, but it makes you wonder.

After the Amazon left for work, I grabbed a cup of coffee, assorted achey pain drugs and settled in on the couch with a blanket and the remote. I flipped through the channels and was delighted to find one of my all time favorite movies, White Nights. It makes me wanna jump on a plane, fly to Russia and rescue Baryshnikov myself.

Can ya'll just see me flying through the streets of Moscow in Jolene, some Molly Hatchett blaring from the speakers as I let out a big ass rebel yell?

Yeah okay.. I know it's different over there now and Baryshnikov isn't really stuck in a crappy little apartment with Gregory Hines and Isabella Rossellini.. but it was funny for a second.

Oh and by the way.. as I watched this movie again for the first time in forever, it dawned on me how our culture has changed it's definition of beauty. It was refreshing to see actors with real teeth, not super day glow chickletts and women who's bones weren't protruding through starving flesh, topped by ginormous plasti-breasts adorned with rigid little stiletto nipples.

*steps down from her soap box*

I don't have alot on my agenda for today. The beginnings of beef stroganoff are stewing in the slow cooker, it should be done around 5 ish. I think the Amazon works 'til 2 and Ma is sawing logs in a Robitussin induced fog, so other than some laundry, I'll be kicking back and finding something peaceful and quiet to occupy my time.

If you listen closely, you might hear me caterwauling like a dying mule in a hail storm singing with the radio.. "hold you in his arms 'til you can feel his disease... come toooooogeeeeeeether... right noooooowwwww.... over me."

Ya'll have a good one.

Later Taters!

P.S. Kenju over at "Imagine" awarded me the following:

“The blogger who receives this award believes in the Tao of the zombie chicken- excellence, grace and persistence in all situations, even in the midst of a zombie apocalypse. These amazing bloggers regularly produce content so remarkable that their readers would brave a raving pack of zombie chickens just to be able to read their inspiring words. As a recipient of this world-renowned award, you now have the task of passing it on to at least 5 other worthy bloggers. Do not risk the wrath of the zombie chickens by choosing unwisely or not choosing at all…”

Although I'd rather do anything that invoke the wrath of the zombie chickens.. because seriously.. I'm fearful enough of living, breathing chickens... Satan's fowl... I get a little twitchy when I have to pick a handful of my favorite blogs. There are so many.. it's just not possible. So, I invite ya'll to browse the links under the "Brain Candy" heading in my sidebar and visit a few. Oh and.. be sure to stop by Kenju's place. She is truly an angel of the blogosphere :o)


kenju said...

Mahala, this post was a winner - even before I saw my name at the end!

I just love what you said about actresses and I read it to mr. kenju and he said yes, he HAD definitely noticed those nipples before. You're not alone....LOL

Evil Twin's Wife said...

I hate the chicklet teeth too. Miley Cyrus is the biggest offender in that category. I think with as much money as that family pulls in, she could have found a better dentist to put caps on (or spent an extra few thou on veneers). Those things just look WEIRD!

Rachel said...

Yum...strogy. Never made it in a crockpot though. What do you do--use a roast and then add the noodles near the end?