Some of you may not know, but I tend to drive slow and it would take me 8 hours on a trip that usually takes 6.

The last trip was just . . . interesting. Let’s just say the worst part of the trip besides driving through 3 thunderstorms from Atlanta to Florida was stopping for a Subway Sub off an exit on I-65. It was somewhere between Cow Patty and the pig crossing 10 miles before the Georgiana exit.

The highlight would have been BamaSwitch standing on the side of the road thumbing for a ride. ‘-)

By then I had been driving 5 hours without a bite to eat and I had to fill up the tank with gas. There was a Burger King with a long line and a Subway Sub shop connected to the gas station where I filled up. Y’all know there’s a monopoly on gas station/Subway Sub stores, right? It’s the American Dream for the displaced Middle Easterners.

I’m not a fast food type of girl, but, in my mind, a sub was a healthier alternative to Burger King, plus there was no wait!

Little did I know.

The store had a country buffet in one corner, except there was no food, no staff, no lights. In the other corner, was a teeny tiny Middle Eastern woman who was shorter than me. I let 3 people go in front of me because I didn’t know what to order. All of it looked, bleh. I was starving, mind you. The sign said $5 for a foot long sandwich, so I figured hey, this is lunch and dinner.

Finally I ordered.

“Let’s see, a little ham, salami, lettuce, green pepper slices, no tomato, and little light mayo.

Then she threw on the bacon and cheese before she stuck it in the oven.

I said “NO BACON. Not on my sandwich.”

But it was too late. It was also the first time she looked at me. She stood with her arms akimbo with a blank look on her face that said “What?”

Meanwhile, her chaperon/gas station attendant/family member appeared from the gas station side. So what was I going to do?

I paid $8 for a $5 sub sandwich.

It was the second time she looked at me and I think she was expecting me to complain.

When I didn’t she said, “You added more things. I cut it the way you wanted, in three pieces. That’s all extras. That’s why it cost more.”

~Shrug~

I went out to the car, ate one piece of the sandwich and decided I needed to visit that bathroom before I got on the road again. It looked like a bombed out bathroom you’d find in Beirut anyway.

No toilet paper, no toilet seat, no soap. I always carry that antibacterial gel, so washing hands was not that much of a problem. But, my lily white ass and the toilet? Fik no! So I remembered why my girlfriends and I did in high school one mischievous afternoon. We peed standing up in the urinal. Not a pretty sight.

What would it hurt?

Snaps to anyone who finds an appropriate youtube music clip for this episode.

Let’s face it, 70 is the new 60, 60 is the new 50, and so on.

Most of us make some serious changes as we get older. Changes for better health are immediately visible. So as public service, I recommend taking this test. It takes a little while to complete, about 45 min.

I’m vain, so I made the time.

The last time I took this test was last year. My biological age with the same as my calendar age. This year, my biological age is 5 years younger than my calendar age!

Have any prescriptions and vitamins handy because they ask the amount of mg in each.

BE HONEST and complete what you can or the time you took to take this test was wasted.

The test provides tips on how you can improve the results as well as why you got the results. Go ahead and take it.

Look better, feel better, live longer. Come on . . . take the frikking test.

RealAge – Live Life to the Youngest.

Seduction Meals.

My husband told me very early on, that besides my beautiful eyes, pale skin,  and luscious body, he married me for my cooking.  *shocked*  My mother told me it makes perfect sense.  The fastest way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, and I thought it was my … ahem … other talents. ‘-D

Here’s a site that may help you clinch the deal with your significant other.

Chicken Nation

Video produced by smalltimepictures

So what’s the story behind me and chicken?

I – just – don’t – like to eat them.

For one thing, I hate biting into that gristly piece that always ends up on MY piece of chicken.

I remember a couple of times when I was served boiled chicken with potatoes. It was gamey. The potatoes tasted like the gamey chicken. *shivers*chokes back yukkies*

When I prepare chicken for others, I wear plastic gloves, tho I wear them when working with meat, too.

And another thing, just about everyone I know not only eat chicken, but LOVE to eat chicken.

Don’t get me wrong. I eat chicken on occasion, like when it’s broiled and drowned in buffalo chicken wing sauce. Barbecue sauce is good too.

So what do I eat? Hmmm . . . fish and a little meat, veggies and fruit everyday, oh and something sweet to cancel out the healthy stuff.

Why am I writing this blog about chicken? It’s 2 am, there’s buffalo chicken in the fridge, and I HONGRY!

Dom Goddess

Today the bi monthly coterie (minus one,) was at Lady Hotchkiss’ home We will be back on our regularly scheduled program after DomCon Atlanta.

Lady Hotchkiss loves to cook and if anyone thinks a Dom who cooks is a domesticated Dom, think again. She is the Queen of her domain. The kitchen is just one of her playgrounds, the dungeon is the other.

She made a salad with fresh crunch mix of apples, carrots, craisins, and radicchio. Dang woman pulled out a jar of homemade blue cheese salad dressing. It was fabulous.

Bless her heart; she forgot I’m one of the few people she knows who doesn’t like chicken. But that’s okay. I knew it was on the menu. It was good and I ate it.

For dessert, she made homemade strawberry ice cream and used whole milk. It was HEAVEN. I was lucky to get out of there before my stomach made me pay for it.

Her cats were hanging around. A big one was sitting on the kitchen bar stool. The other was lounging on the couch. Later on they lay entwined. I love cats. Unfortunately, I’m allergic to them. But that’s okay, too. I took a Benadryl when I got home.

Yesterday i opened my freezer and there is a nice, hefty, frozen cucumber there, laying innocently among the bags of frozen vegetables, fish, and packets of chicken… what’s it doing there all innocent and smirking? i did not put it there! Or did i? i do not remember any Teasing, Evil Elves sneaking around my house.

the only thing that occurs to me is that  several days ago i brought home a few bags of groceries. Some of it – fresh vegetables ended up on table, the rest off vegetables went into the refrigerator and some other stuff went into the freezer. Is it possible that i subconsciously put the cucumber, of all things, in the freezer? Yes it is. Such small acts of instant forgetfulness happen to me. My head is either in the proverbial pink clouds or i am occupied by more mundane problems. But still.. a frozen cucumber?

It does not sound like a Freudian slip.

I wonder what it could be called:

A subbean slip?
A pink slip?
A slip of a nasty needy slut? Hmm and blush

Some of you may not know, but I drove 8 hours on a trip that usually takes 6. Nothing bad happened. Alexis had to guide me the last leg of the trip to my destination via cell phone.

It was just . . . interesting. Let’s just say the worst part of the trip besides driving through 3 thunderstorms from Atlanta to Florida was stopping for a Subway Sub off an exit on I-65. It was somewhere between Cow Patty and the pig crossing 10 miles before the Georgiana exit.

The highlight would have been BamaSwitch standing on the side of the road thumbing for a ride. ‘-)

By then I had been driving 5 hours without a bite to eat and I had to fill up the tank with gas. There was a Burger King with a long line and a Subway Sub shop connected to the gas station where I filled up. Y’all know there’s a monopoly on gas station/Subway Sub stores, right? It’s the American Dream for the displaced Middle Easterners.

I’m not a fast food type of girl, but, in my mind, a sub was a healthier alternative to Burger King, plus there was no wait!

Little did I know.

The store had a country buffet in one corner, except there was no food, no staff, no lights. In the other corner, was a teeny tiny Middle Eastern woman who was shorter than me. I let 3 people go in front of me because I didn’t know what to order. All of it looked, bleh. I was starving, mind you. The sign said $5 for a foot long sandwich, so I figured hey, this is lunch and dinner.

Finally I ordered.

“Let’s see, a little ham, salami, lettuce, green pepper slices, no tomato, and little light mayo.

Then she threw on the bacon and cheese before she stuck it in the oven.

I said “NO BACON. Not on my sandwich.”

But it was too late. It was also the first time she looked at me. She stood with her arms akimbo with a blank look on her face that said “What?”

Meanwhile, her chaperon/gas station attendant/family member appeared from the gas station side. So what was I going to do?

I paid $8 for a $5 sub sandwich.

It was the second time she looked at me and I think she was expecting me to complain.

When I didn’t she said, “You added more things. I cut it the way you wanted, in three pieces. That’s all extras. That’s why it cost more.”

~Shrug~

I went out to the car, ate one piece of the sandwich and decided I needed to visit that bathroom before I got on the road again. It looked like a bombed out bathroom you’d find in Beirut anyway.

No toilet paper, no toilet seat, no soap. I always carry that antibacterial gel, so washing hands was not that much of a problem. But, my lily white ass and the toilet? Fik no! So I remembered why my girlfriends and I did in high school one mischievous afternoon. We peed standing up in the urinal. Not a pretty sight.

What would it hurt?

Snaps to anyone who finds an appropriate youtube music clip for this episode.

Easy Jalapeno Poppers Recipe Video by cookingwithcaitlin1 | ifood.tv.