Envy, Jealousy, Sloth, Coveting and Other Vices

Here was a fun little dive Doooders and I found two years ago, and I'm sure there were vices by the bucketload that have occurred here: lustfulness, pride, envy, jealousy, coveting, etc.

What is your vice?  Not a habit like say drinking, smoking, lighting your farts on fire, but what's the one weak downfall that you have, your Achilles Heel?  Do you try to keep it in check?  Or do you only TELL yourself you keep in check when you really don't.

Are most people aware or ignorantly UNaware of theirs?

I go through little intense spells where the Universe will show me a quality in people that I despise, and then it'll show it to me over and over again with many people, and I then wonder, what are you trying to tell me Universe?  Are you trying to make me sick of the human race or just more attuned to my own judgemental pronouncements toward others, or are you trying to warn me that I have this vice as well and need to work on overcoming it?

Lately, I've been seeing a lot of sloth and envy around (bear in mind I work with the public, so I encounter people in masses every day).  I've been conscious about envy and try to be aware of it, conscious of it in myself.

But look around.  Take note.  Then take that note home to yourself.

Do you WORK to avoid that which is your weakness, to climb over that, or do you live in denial?

Are you a Foodie or a Food Moron?

Benny says, "Let them eat cake!"  This was a particularly amazing cake, I might add, that I created for Rob's birthday.

Food.

Today, it got me thinking after listening to some strangers go off on food.

What does it mean to be a fine appreciator of cuisine?  Does everyone have the capacity or is it a learned taste?  Are there food morons out there?

I think so.

After listening to some Food-Morons today, talk about food, I think the appreciation of food is more like art.  You have the intellectual capacity, or you do not.

I overhead one moron say he doesn't like mayonnaise.  Really?  Not even homemade?  Are you an idiot?  Then the other moron said he liked some entree at Applebees.  Are you serious?  I wanted to interrupt with, "YOU DO know that their food is 'Corporate' food, made, frozen or canned elsewhere, then only re-heated on the premise you established.  You DO know that you fucking idiot, right?"  But I shut my chocolate pie hole.

Then, the other person attempted to show he's a foodie by saying that now and then, "I try a new chicken sandwich or chicken entree in a restaurant."  WOW.  Chicken.  That's all you'll eat?  Of all the millions of food combinations with grains, proteins, fish, meat, game, that's all you'll eat?

It lead me to some interesting conclusions.  Americans do NOT like to stretch their palettes.  They do not like to try new things.  They like what they like and nothing more.  When they DO try something new, they are already negatively telling themselves in their mind that they do NOT like it.

What's next to come out of a nonfoodie's mouth, "I don't like milk in my coffee.  I prefer Coffee Mate." or, "I'd really prefer NOT to have that fresh dairy whipping cream.  Please give me some Cool Whip."  OR "No, I'd prefer NOT to have that Stilton cheese.  I'd prefer to have Easy Cheese."

OK, my blood pressure's rising.  Better sign off.  Good night!  I'm looking out for all your palettes.

Greatest "Almost" Romance Ever

 

 

 

Happy Presidents' Day.
Wait, this is Crazy Horse.  OK, Happy Inspirational Leaders Day.

How was everyone's weekend?

Mine was super chilly.

Crackie came up from Custer, and we spent most of the day together before I went over to Mr.  J's house for a Bitchin Kitchen Fest and excellent food and company.

Crackie?  From Custer?  Sigh.  Yeah, Yeah, I know what you're thinking.  Be careful.  But Crackie and I are just friends.  Despite everything we went through, we never even slept together, gasp.

It's hard when he leaves, because I think he he is one of the most gorgeous men (inside and out) whom I've ever met.

And like always, we're passionately laughing and talking at the same time, and so many coincidental things happen between us.  Like, we're both reading the same books; we finish each other's sentences.

We spent the whole day together, used bookstore shopping, going to Sam's Club, and we had a fabulously romantic lunch.  The whole time, arms linked together or holding hands like two best friends.

The chef at the bistro said to me, as I was trying to pay for a piece of Sage-Derby cheese, "Your husband's on the other end of the counter waiting for you."

Your "husband."  I laughingly told Crackie this, and said it's because we just naturally look good together, and when we're around each other, we both glow-- he just smiled.  Sadly, I might add.

Star-crossed lovers=lovers who, for whatever the reason or season in the universe, are just not meant to be together at this one point and time.

There's nothing sadder than that.

There's the "Mistake" the guy you wish you'd never met (BTW: I think Cactus Man has been reading this blog as of late--because of Analytics--which, I have no idea how he ever found this blog, more later, meh, I already have a few ex's who read this, so WTF), then there's the guy who got away, the one man in your life whom YOU SHOULD have been with, but for whatever reason, you just can't be with.

So that makes at least two: Crackie, and Jay, who passed away 20 years ago last July.

It's a crazy world, a funky, trippy universe; you can't force it to give you what you want--in fact, you have VERY LITTLE to say about what the universe has planned for you --stay tuned.

Brainiacs and B.O.

Bennie's first parka when he was a baby.  Check out that cute little butt.  Speaking of butts, what's up with major brainiacs and bad butt smell?

I belong to TWO gyms.  One of them has an inordinate amount of professional-brainiacs, most of them in sciences, who belong to it, but I've run into the worst B.O. there in my life.  Every SINGLE time I go, I smell ass, pit-sweat, foot-rot, bad breath, no matter what part of the gym I go to, someone reeks or has sharted in his pants.

But my other gym, which is more of a "jock" and working-man's gym, smells like a rose.  In fact, I can smell most people's deodorant, and most guys even smell nice.

I keep waiting for it to change up, for me to wander into the brainiac gym and smell something pleasant, or the working class gym, and smell a giant fart.

But so far, for the past five months, this has been the case every day.

So can we imply that Brainiacs simply do not care about hygiene as much as the average guy on the street?  If so, why?  What gives.

Do I have to bring Febreeze?  Wear a surgical mask?

Sigh.

Happy Friends and Pets Day!

What?  No "Valentine's Day"?  Valentine's was NEVER intended to be the holiday our country and Hallmark intended.  Christianity attempted to Christianize the Roman Pagan holiday, Lupercalia.  It was an event to mark fertility in both crops and women.

Nothing necessarily romantic about that.

And besides, we already have a holiday for lovers.  It's called your "Anniversary."  So celebrate it in quiet, and leave the rest of us alone.  Take the damned romance out of Valentine's, would ya?  Take the pressure off us single people, and quit trying to force us to feel bad.  And get those god-awful Vale's and other hideous diamond commercials OFF THE AIR.

It ain't working.  There's already a holiday for mothers, one for fathers, the anniversary, the birthday.  But where's a holiday honoring your good friends who've been there for you through it all (unlike your ex's)? 

Where's the holiday honoring the joy that our pets give us?  Where's the holiday honoring our furry friends, who, despite whatever day they might have had, greet us with the most unlimited love a human being could ever ask for?

So don't give me that holiday crap.

Here's to Bennie and my beloved good friends.  Happy Friends and Pets Day to you!

FULL DISCLOSURE: Top Ten Mature Hotties

Crackie from last summer, looking hot, sigh.  I'm sure he wouldn't mind his picture up.

OK, I'm on a rant about older men and women looking hot and stayin' chilly these days.  Crackie is one.  But there are more. 

*Here's my TOP TEN MATURE HOTTIES LIST

*Note: the following are not only HOT, but they're super kewl, too.

1. Katey Sagall and Kurt Sutter
2. Chris Cornell
3. Jeff Bridges
4. John Corbett and his pal, Bo Derek
5. Susan Sarandon
6. James Hetfield
7. Chrissy Hines
8. Iggy Pop
9. Anthony Kietis
10. Patti Smith

Yup, they're all pretty kewl to me.  Thanks for being an inspiration.

Amusing Dreams, Mountains and Winter Doldrums

I wish I were back here.  The Crazies of Montana, just chillin' with Dooder.  I don't even care that it'd be windy and snowy and probably outrageously cold.

We're in this weird winter pattern in the Black Hills, again, where it's not really winter, but it's not spring either.  Drought everywhere.

Anyway, had a good day yesterday, working late into the novel and seeing a few edits that I hadn't seen before.

So, I had a jumbo cocktail then went to bed exhausted and had the weirdest, WEIRDEST dreams.  As in, I was having Elvis's baby.  And it wasn't even fat Elvis, but hot Elvis.  How strange.  I remember he didn't seem to be sexually into me, seeings as I was nine months preggo.  But hey, I was with Elvis!

Then I dreamed I was camping in a camper-cabin with Brad Pitt.  We were sharing the bottom bunk, and above us was his ex, Jennifer Aniston and her boyfriend.  I kept thinking, "Brad is so hot.  But when's psycho Angelina going to come around and start a hair pulling contest??"

Luckily, she never showed up.

So what's new?

Crackie came by last Saturday.  I knew he'd be in town, so I wore my good jeans and a tight top.  His eyes about bulged outta his head, and he kept saying, "Wow, you look great!"  When I was bent over the dryer and unloading some clothes, I caught him taking inventory of my can as he said, "That cross country skiing is really paying off for you."

And when he left (he was only in town to go to Sam's and get groceries), he gave me a big kiss on the cheek and a delightful hug.  As usual, he was stunningly attractive, in his ruggedly George Clooney kind of way.  We even made plans for spring break, but I have no allusions.

We're just friends.  Nothing wrong with that.  Might as well have a hunky, hot, intelligent friend.

What else is new?  I have a new role model.  Katy Sagall.  I love her on Sons of Anarchy.

AND, get this.  She's married to the show's producer, Kurt Sutter, writer/director/and the guy who plays the old club member in prison who used to be married to Luanne.  Yes, that super, ultra hottie.

Did you know this?  She's 59, and he's 46. 

You go, Katey.  My new hero.  She's cool, edgy, cutting edge, smart, funny and gorgeous.

When is Hollywood EVER going to realize that women are not at their pinnacle in ANYTHING, let alone looks, when they're young.  I find older women, especially those who keep themselves up, to be incredibly hot.  I'm not sure what it is.  Wisdom and a few laugh lines?  The FUCK YOU attitude?

Take care of yourself.  Grow wise.

The best years are yet to come.