I enjoy finding items at thrift stores that I can “alter”. I’m not much of a restorer though. Certainly not furniture because it just doesn’t have that instant gratification that I need. Anyway, I found these cards from the ’70’s (that’s just a guess). I really thought the artwork was cute but the cards were too fragile and yellowed for me to feel good about sending out. So I cut out the art, got out my paper and punches, and made my own cards.
I especially like the last one because it’s in your face. “GET WELL!” Very commanding. Not “Get Well Soon” or “I Hope You Get Well.” No, it’s a demand. And I’m nothing if not demanding.
I found a book at the same thrift store that was published in the early ’70’s. Normally I would not condone disassembling a book. But it was a book of what were supposed to be inspirational quotes and I’m at a stage in my life where cutesy inspirational quotes kind of make me want to wrap my lips around the tail-pipe of an idling Peterbilt and suck. But I thought the pictures were super cute; so I used them to make some cards.
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I figured that all the scary food had been left behind in the ’60’s and ’70’s. I was wrong. Boy, was I ever wrong. The problem is that I misunderestimated Martha Stewart. She had a deal where you could order a free trial of her magazines. And I’ll read anything for free. I just finished my perusal of her May 2010 issue.
You should know that I am, by nature, a meat eater. I love meat. Red meat, white meat, the other white meat. I love it all. I even go fishing quite often – I enjoy fishing. But even I don’t think I could do this.
What kind of person leaves the head on their food when they cook it?! What kind of person serves meat with the eyeballs still intact?! The fish is obviously completely horrified by the pork loin. But, alas, the fish is tied up and can’t escape the nightmare of the pork loin. Who would force their food to be so uncomfortable?! Who does that?
And, if that picture wasn’t bad enough, Martha also gave another helpful picture back with the recipe. Yes, she tied the poor fish up with rope. Perhaps with those scary eyes staring back at her, she thought the fish would try to make an escape?
So, you see, retro is in. Sadly for us, that means Retro Food is back in style. That’s just great.
Hopefully the Retro Food craze will mean we now have more Jello recipes. I really do love me some Jello.
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I rarely write about serious topics on this blog. Mostly because there are a lot of bloggers who can write about serious subjects much more effectively than I can. However, I have been noticing that there seems to be some sort of backlash against Facebook for violating the privacy of its users.
And I’m confused about that.
Isn’t that the point of Facebook? Isn’t it supposed to be a way for you to keep up with friends and family? If you add “friends” who aren’t really your “friends” and then post what color bra you are wearing, can you really say anyone violated your privacy? No. You are the one who put it out there. It isn’t Facebook’s fault that you “friended” a bunch of voyeurs and then gave them for free what they would have to pay for elsewhere.
I guess what I’m saying is that, if you tell the world that you are enjoying a post-coital smoke, don’t be surprised when the world knows you just did the deed.
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How’s that for a lame post title?
I apologize for my absence. It began innocently enough as pure laziness. Then morphed into blogger’s block. Proceeded by a couple commenters who wanted me to say something funny so I got all worried that I wouldn’t be able to say anything funny. Which is not unfounded because I am not, by nature, a funny person. It’s true. I crack up after I explain my own jokes.
And I also laugh at nerd jokes.
Why was 6 afraid of 7? Because 7, 8, 9.
What can I say? True genius is rarely recognized in its own lifetime.
Anyway … we had the bank from hell. I have since learned that they are crooks. Literal crooks. We had already opened accounts at a different bank because the crooks had gotten taken over by the FDIC. But the old account was still open because our health insurance company takes forever and a day to process a change of payment. Today, Meat Galore and I went to withdraw our One Dollar and Ninety Two Cents from the old account. As we were leaving, we pulled around the back of the bank (because that is how you exit the parking lot – not because we were looking for somewhere to neck or anything because that would be absurd) where we saw several bank employees carrying bags of money out of the bank on dollies. They were then depositing said bags of money into a plain old Chevy Tahoe.
It wasn’t even an armored Chevy Tahoe. No wonder the freaking FDIC got nervous.
Then, on the way home, that song that Kid Rock and Sheryl Crowe sing (I think it’s called “Picture” or something equally inventive) was playing. Our local radio station bleeps out the word “cocaine”. I was thinking how lucky I am that they do that for me. Otherwise, I might be driving down the road minding my own business when I would suddenly hear Kid Rock say cocaine and then I’d think, “Self, you should really procure some cocaine. And then use it.” Then I would have to find out how to buy cocaine. (I’m guessing you just can’t go up to random people in town and ask them if they will sell you some cocaine.) Also, I would have to learn how to use it. Therefore, I am very thankful that our radio station is thoughtful enough to censor the word cocaine. If only the internet people would be so thoughtful regarding midget porn.
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