|I don't know that I would call it Good Friday...maybe mediocre
||[Apr. 22nd, 2011|09:57 am]
April 18th was National Animal Cracker Day. I missed it. Darn it. I would have bought a box in celebration. Of course, it would have to be the Barnum’s Circus Box...with the little woven strap. I always thought of it as a purse. A purse full of food. Because I was BORN hungry. No other animal cracker will do. They had a recipe for homemade animal crackers. That’s like homemade peanut butter cups. It’s not the same. Besides, if I’m going to all of that trouble, it’s going to be over an animal shaped cookie made with tons of glorious butter and sugar. Let’s face it, you don’t love an animal cracker because it TASTES good. The food blog that reminded me of the holiday posed the question: which part of an animal cracker do you eat first, the head, the tail? |
Duh! The legs. That way they can’t run away.
Speaking of strange holidays...there was once a book that listed ALL of those special days and observances and national this and that day/week/month. And it was published annually I think and had someone’s last name as part of the title – when you requested it from the librarian you ask for the “LastName”. And he or she knew exactly what to give you. But I can’t remember the name and am in the middle of a long book, (The Passage by Justin Cronin and if you’re looking for a good can’t put down summer read that is along the lines of King’s The Stand, this is it. Although I hear it’s part of a trilogy, and that always makes me feel a little ripped off at the end...but at nearly 800 page, you have to enjoy the ride.) so I won’t be heading to the library anytime in the next week or two. Anyone remember what this book is called?
Dear Colleague: The paper tray on the copier will fit the entire package of paper. So, if you run out of paper and open up a package to refill the tray...put the whole expletive deleted thing in there! Why make someone else (aka, ME) finish the job? Seriously? This is why women break up with you after the first couple of dates. Finish the damn job.
Dear Men who tuck their t-shirts into their sweatpants: Unless you have the kind of rock hard physique that makes women pause and fantasize before they move along, the kind of body that looks GOOD in a Speedo, please un-tuck that shirt. You probably think it makes you look neater. Here’s a newsflash. You are wearing sweatpants. Ergo, you look Schlubby. Tucking in the t-shirt doesn’t unSchlub you. It merely draws attention to your physical flaws and gives the impression that you think that tucking in a t-shirt makes you look sharp. At the very best, you look tremendously uncool. It is the lower torso version of white socks with black sandals. Unless I could bounce a quarter off your butt and have it ricochet off and put out my eye, let the t-shirt hang freely. Better to have us think that maybe it’s just the t-shirt that’s making you look like that, than tuck in the t-shirt and have us realize that no, it’s actually your body that looks like that. And while you’re there, put on some underwear. Sweatpants fabric, while cut loose, is also sort of clingy. We women know that sometimes cling is good...but sometimes you are grateful for fabrics that have a little backbone and don't feel the need to hug your every...thing. I don’t care what you’re packing – when you men lean back ever so slightly...well, let’s just say it’s not complimentary. I am always reminded of a tapir and while I ADORE tapirs, some of that is because their nose is so delightfully ridiculous. Please don't make me think of tapirs whenever I see you in sweatpants.
Dear Supplier who just sent me samples: You are bidding on $45 MILLION dollars of business. When you pick out samples to send to me, when you picked up that box of Product, the one where the side flaps of the box were not completely sealed...and snot streaks of dried glue leaking out the edges that WERE sealed...what made you think “This one. I am so proud of my product that I will send you this one, that was clearly boxed at 4:49pm on a Friday. And while I’m at it, I will send this other Product, where the inner tube is crushed a bit flat so instead of being round and fitting over the round piece in the Product dispenser, it’s sort of oval, ensuring that it will dispense unevenly. But hey, they need to know that sometimes on Mondays, Frank the Product Packer can be pretty hungover and let’s some damaged product slide through. I’ll send them THIS one to demonstrate that we’re not perfect.” Dear, dear supplier. Next time, why don’t you save the postage and just e-mail me “Yeah, no, we really can’t be bothered with your business.”
Dear lady in the doctor’s office: What the hell were you thinking? At what point did you think it was appropriate to bring food to eat in your doctor’s office while waiting for your appointment? Were you raised by baboons? Not to be speciest...since the snack you chose was a very ripe banana. And baboons don’t naturally eat bananas. This meant that the rest of us had to sit amongst the reek of banana while you painstaking peeled and ate it. That was bad. What was worse...you then got up and threw the peel into the office garbage can, ensuring that the entire office would smell like ripe banana for the rest of the day. (Look, I like a good banana, although I tend to like them on the greenish, underripe side. But seriously – there are some things that taste really good and even smell really good...but when you’re the person eating them. Banana peels are like fish in the microwave at work, burnt popcorn, egg or tuna salad in a small enclosed space. You just don’t subject other people to it, if you have a lick of sense. Were you there to get your sense of smell checked? Or for a brain injury? Those are the only possible excuses I can think of. Unless it was to get your tubes tied and stop your self-centeredness from spreading further into the gene pool. That would be okay with me.