Wednesday, May 21, 2014

Happiness

What follows is a post I wrote a few years ago and didn't feel like posting for political reasons.  I no longer live in this place and the election has long since passed so here's...

I have been thinking about starting to write on here again.  I've been thinking a lot, which we all know isn't healthy for me to do alone.  I guess today came with its own straw, the last one.

Someone I rather like told me I was probably very hard to make happy, because I've been bitching about the (insert multiple and various expletives) Lafourche Central Market.  See this is supposed to be a wondrous thing.  A farmer and fishermen oasis.  A centralized location for these industrious people to congregate and sell their hard-won wares to the public (me).  I read the grant.  It reads idealized, but Lafourche Parish, which is 1.5 hours long, needs something like this.  Especially because every other farmer's market looks like a f*(&%*&(^*(%&^ing craft show only without the imagination or usefulness one might usually expect from a craft show. 

So I packed up my reusable bags and drove half an hour to get to this wonderful place I have been dreaming of and hoping for only to find a g*^$DAMNED MOTHER*(&^&*^$&*^%ING SON OF A BUGGERED PUSTULE BESOTTED WHORE ON AN UNDULATING SPERM SALESMAN'S BALLSACK OF A F*&^^^G CRAFTSHOW.   Oh and like 6 pumpkins, I counted. Needless to say, I was not happy.  I was very very not happy.


Because I had read what they wrote to get the money to create this place, and no where, NO WHERE DID IT MENTION BABY CLOTHES OR HAIR ACCESSORIES "CUTE AND QUIRKY" which is the sort of bull shit businesses I've been forced to write occupational licenses for this "Central Crap Market" All Month Long.

So this person says to me that it must "take a lot to make you happy." Faaak.  Oh like farmers, produce and seafood at a farmers market? Yes, it takes a crap ton.  Let me illustrate.  This is what we have at our "Central Crap Market" (real photo actually stolen from FB):


And this is a photo from the Cocoa Beach Farmer's Market, where I lived and shopped for two years:


And here is the Farmer's Market in Union Square in New York where I shopped for 6 years:


And here is the dried fruit stand at the San Lorenzo Market in Florence, Italy they had on weekends where you could get the freshest kind of any food imaginable from sausage to fish to fruit to olives to herbs to cheese straight from the artisans (I only got to shop here for a year):


Perhaps these people in Lafourche have never seen an actual farmer's market. Maybe that is the issue.  Me?  I have seen them, loved them, and I miss them so bad it makes me bleed inside.  And here I end my diatribe about this one topic.

But I will end this talking about things that make me happy, because there are like, two or so.

First off, I'm going to tell you what does NOT make me happy.

People that post all sorts of political opinions on FB, then get all pissy when people loudly disagree with them.  What, did you really think you were going to be the only loud and obnoxious dipshit?  Did you think all the other dumbasses out there who happen to not agree with you were just going to sit back and take all your half-truths that are meant, let's face it, to incite, piss-off, and generally stir up crap from the other side?

Here is some wisdom, an age old adage from the "North Side" of Jacksonville, FL:  Don't start none, won't be none.

Something else about all this political bs that has taken over FB, is that so many people are just re-posting CRAP.  Like all they see is that "Hey this lambastes the other side, so I'm going to post it and hope for a reaction, it must be true, after all."  Does anyone stop to think, hey, maybe this ISN'T true. Maybe even if it is true, I should save it for a one-on-one debate.  Maybe I shouldn't muck up Mary's newsfeed with crap and bullshit and BOOOOORRRRINGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG?

HEY YOU GUYS, DEEP QUESTION:  Do you think that, like, anyone, like, ever, has had their political views, like, changed because of a FB post or a particularly scathing comment?  They were like, ZING! I guess I'm a DEMOCRAT now!






So then, I think I really am ahead of the curb--that was a phrase that came about because of some dumbass doctors that (am here I am supposing) got their degrees from DeVry or a Cracker Jack box who thought a shot of Demeral would get rid of a head-ache I had had for, at that point, three days (I went to the emergency room at 5 days)--because I have a secret, and I will now un-secretfy it:  YOU CAN THINK FOR YOURSELVES!!!!!!!!

HOLY CRAP, CALL YOUR MOTHERS!

(Tell them too.)

And if you don't start thinking for yourselves two things are going to happen.  One is:  Someone truly awful is going to win this election.  It could be the end of the United States of America.  (Either Obama or Romney, they're both entitled, lying, evil shitbags who don't care about me, you or your children, but that, as we ALLLLLLLLLL know is way beside the point, what really matters is who looks best on tv, who can make us feel the most secure and who makes us think the least.  God DAMN I hate you all.)  Ahem, sorry, mental indigestion.

I am so disappointed in you.  All of you.  Each and every one of you disappoints me on a daily basis.

You are scared of your own minds, you don't want to make your own decisions. You pride yourselves on listening to "edgy" talk shows like Walton & Johnson. Do you know that the only woman caller I haven't heard ridiculed on their show admitted to eating bull testicles and being faithful to her husband and pleasuring him and/or cooking him a hot meal once a day.  They are sooooo frikking edgy, like 1950's edgy.  They are right-wing bullies.  They make statements and don't provide checkable facts,



 they bully women callers and anyone who doesn't agree with them.  On Father's Day they held a contest to send a dad to the Bunny ranch.  Now maybe that's all nice and good for dads who are divorced, single dads for a long time running, GO TEAM GET SOME HOOKER ASS.  But MY father's identity is pretty well ingrained in his family and his WIFE now how about a little appreciation for THAT sort of lifestyle? And as soon as a WOMAN called to voice any opposition all they could do was make fun of her, I couldn't even discern a viable argument.  I would love to agree with them, I would love to say yizzah!! Ain't that the truf!  But all I keep hearing is a bunch of misogynistic bullshit without backing and I just switch back to NPR, plus, NPR's commercials are much less annoying.

I say if you are the 10% or whatever the heck you claim to be, take the calls, defend your position, don't be intimidated by puny women or men named Mundo.  I wanted so badly to be impressed by you but every time you come up against something, you don't have reasons to explain why you are right and they are wrong.  In my opinion, you are men with small penises and inferior oral sex skills to make up for anything. And all together it is a bad scene esp. cuz you already showed badly in the women's rights and general political know-how arena.  But you can go ahead and skewer me because no one knows me, and your skewering skills suck.  Oh no! You might tell people not to like me! And gosh, those edgy people you keep filling up with compliments with how smart and edgy they are might not like me. I'm intimidated.  Or I don't give a crap. The right doesn't need your help, you misogynist twats. Let's move on.

Right, so I was going to end on a positive note and here I'm talking from the future.  Yes!  THE FUTURE!!!!

So here is what I love: The Palafox Farmer's Market in Pensacola, FL (This is one of the best I've ever been to, they combine food artisans and craft artisans without being obnoxious and with quality goods. Color me impressed and kinda in love with Matt's Moms Mustard [omg the roasted garlic I went through in a week] and those purple tomatoes) and the Castle Doctrine (I was going to say boobs, but those aren't even a little controversial).

Love,
Mary.


Sunday, August 1, 2010

There's GOD in them there pots!

A few days ago I got a powerful yearning for curry from that Punjab restaurant in Cocoa Beach, FL. Only there are no Indian restaurants, Punjabi or otherwise, within 75 miles of here. So I searched Wal-Mart for anything even slightly resembling Punjabi curry, with no luck. Apparently in southern Louisiana you are either Cajun or Chinese or Mexican, maybe part Japanese, but those are your choices. Suffice it to say I went a little crazy in my head. You ever had a craving that you know you won't be able to fulfill for months? I tried to put it out of my head, but I went to buy bread and wouldn't you [curseword] know it, they had nan. Really? Not a single bit of any sort of slightly Indian food anywhere but they had nan. OK, so I ransacked their spice isle and found garam masala and basmati rice. Not all was lost, but it felt like it might be.

Hurrah for GARAM MASALA.

I found a recipe for Murgh Saag, not quite the curry I wanted, but a very close second. And Oh Dear Jesus, I just want to say a quick thank you for creating ginger, onions, coriander, chickens, butter, ginger, & GARLIC. Because at about the point where I had to put the onions, garlic, ginger and hot peppers into the food processor, my head started singing hymns. It started that ask and response typical of gospel churches, and eventually I started praising Jesus out LOUD, because hot DAMN those spices were meant to spend every second of their herbal lives together and also, with me. And when I added heat, every time I stirred it got a PRAISE JESUS or a HALLELUJAH which is kinda funny considering it's mostly Hindus in India.

This recipe has been a truly religious experience. I'm having a very hard time explaining exactly how I feel about all of these PERFECT ingredients being combined and turned into some delectable concoction.

If my taste buds don't give me a heart attack from sheer pleasure, I will be sure to report back soon.

Yours in Praise.
-M.

Saturday, July 31, 2010

Jesse's Girl

You know that song about how that one guy wishes he had Jesse's girl? I was listening to it on the radio the other day, really listening to the lyrics, but then it just ended. What happened?

I mean, did he get the girl? Did they let some tramp ruin their friendship? Did he find another girl like Jesse's girl? Did he just keep it to himself? Of course after you write a song like that the cat's pretty much out the bag. Or did the other guy dump her so she went crying to him for solace and they wound up living happily ever after, or maybe they both dated her and she wound up getting a bad reputation so she had to move away. Or maybe she turned gay after his friend, or maybe HE turned gay because really the song wasn't about Jesse's girl, but about Jesse himself.

I mean, how you gonna leave me hangin' like that?

Someone out there knows, and needs to tell me.

Tell me, tell me now. I've wasted way too much time already thinking about this one song.

Do it.

-M.

Wednesday, June 2, 2010

Bugs of Louisiana





I have yet to see a live one, but there are carcasses all over the parking lot of my complex. One night when it was dark there were two of them when I stepped out of my car. I almost screamed, at a stupid bug. They are HUGE. Two weeks ago we were almost overrun with moths. All shapes and sizes, white, grey, orange, I inhaled one walking up the stairs. I now spend time sweeping dead bugs off my door mat. With each new turn of the weather comes a new kind of bug. One day, just one single day, there were a bunch of weird little black bugs all over my plants, about 1/4" long round, I wouldn't know where to begin looking for what kind. Another day I checked on my plants to find two absolutely covered with aphids, I fought a good battle and took my peppers back. I hear tell of mosquitoes that can carry off dogs and small children when the weather gets really warm and wet. I pray for cold spells, but they only bring different types of bug, and make them heartier.

The giant water bugs are also known as toe-biters, and apparently deliver an incredibly painful bite if disturbed. Their front pincers are strong enough to hold a frog while it eats it. Imagine, a bug eating a frog. Only in Louisiana, folks. And I thought Florida had bugs. Let me tell you those itty mosquitoes and millions of cockroaches look like amateurs compared to these.

There have also been sightings of stink bugs, flying ants (for lack of a more exact name) grasshoppers, etc. And I live on the third floor.

Please send mosquito netting. I'm skurred.

Monday, March 1, 2010

Who knew?


Personally I would have put them between the suits and the miracle cures, but at least now we know where to get suckers.