Austin is blessed with a great number of good taco places. One of my new favorites is actually just a mobile kitchen parked in a vacant lot with a few tables and chairs scattered around. Not exactly a custom kitchen, but good enough to make tacos in, right? Can’t imagine they do much actual prep there, but again it works.
I guess not everyone pays that much attention to the set up, however. The delightfully, “um, like” sorority girl in front of me had definite ideas about how she wanted her taco. Unfortunately, she wanted something that wasn’t on the menu.
After staring at the fairly basic, but delicious, menu for an excruciatingly long time, Missy says, “Um . . . What I really want is a carnitas taco.”
Pause.
The young woman in the window (who must be thinking, “Bitch, you’ve been looking at the damn menu since Carter was president and you still don’t realize we don’t have any fucking carnitas?) said, very politely “We don’t have carnitas.”
Missy exhaled loudly. Then, with a newfound sharpness to her already whiny sorority voice, said, “Well . . . then can I get the green chile pork taco? But I don’t want any cilantro. Or lime. Or onion.”
“Okay, so one green chile pork taco. Do you want the avocado and the queso fresca?”
“YES! I just don’t want ONIONS. OKAY?”
“So . . . do you want the lime and cilantro after all?
“I really just want a carnitas taco.”
Okay, people, you know at this point that O’Pine is about to make his own sorority girl taco and force feed it to her friends. I’m sure she just couldn’t figure out why, if they had the pork, they couldn’t make something JUST FOR HER. Never occurred to her that, given the cramped conditions of the catering truck, they probably had prepared all the food elsewhere. Besides, what difference does it make what's in the taco? She's only going to throw it up as soon as she gets home.
I placed my order and tried to find a table as far away from the Princess/Victims as I could. And wished that I could order mine, hold the whine.
Monday, January 14, 2008
Wednesday, January 9, 2008
Mama Don't Play
This from CNN: After finding alcohol in her 19-year old son's car, Jane Hambleton decided to sell the car. But she didn’t want anyone thinking there was anything wrong with it and she saw a great opportunity for others to learn from his mistake. So she place the following ad in the local paper:
"OLDS 1999 Intrigue. Totally uncool parents who obviously don't love teenage son, selling his car. Only driven for three weeks before snoopy mom who needs to get a life found booze under front seat. $3,700/offer. Call meanest mom on the planet."
Jane Hambleon is now automatically nominated for my Mom of the Year Award, should I ever actually give one out.
Rock on, Jane!
"OLDS 1999 Intrigue. Totally uncool parents who obviously don't love teenage son, selling his car. Only driven for three weeks before snoopy mom who needs to get a life found booze under front seat. $3,700/offer. Call meanest mom on the planet."
Jane Hambleon is now automatically nominated for my Mom of the Year Award, should I ever actually give one out.
Rock on, Jane!
Tuesday, January 8, 2008
Liq Me The Wrong Way
Just down the street from the house is a little neighborhood liquor store. It’s the second outpost of one of my longtime favorite liquor stores (yup, I drink a lot. Sue me.). The odd thing is, the two stores are only located about 9 blocks apart.
Today, I was searching for several bottles of a local vodka (Tito’s—delicious) to put in some gift bags for visiting dignitaries. The original location of the liquor store was out of the small ones, but said the other location (on my way home—but then, isn’t a liquor store always on my way home?) had some in stock.
Ninety seconds later I’m standing in the vodka aisle of the second store, grabbing the aforementioned bottles. Then I noticed that the price was $1.50 higher per bottle than at the first store.
Now, normally, I’m not cheap. In fact, I’m probably a little irrational when it comes to that. I actually take issue with people who penny nitpick.
But this struck me as quite odd, so I inquired.
“The rent is higher in this location,” said the Asian surfer-dude in his best SoCal accent. “But I can give ‘em to you at the same price as the other location.”
“Cool, bra!” I said (not really, but I wanted to), “Thanks.”
Now, I’ve shopped in a lot of places. I’ve shopped at a lot of chains. And generally, in my experience, the cost of an item is consistent between locations of the same store. So WTF? Now what am I supposed to do?
Do I stop going to this “chain” altogether? Do I drive the extra nine blocks to the original store to take advantage of their lower rent? Or should I just get really drunk on the gift vodka and black the whole thing out?
Surely it’s five o’clock somewhere.
Today, I was searching for several bottles of a local vodka (Tito’s—delicious) to put in some gift bags for visiting dignitaries. The original location of the liquor store was out of the small ones, but said the other location (on my way home—but then, isn’t a liquor store always on my way home?) had some in stock.
Ninety seconds later I’m standing in the vodka aisle of the second store, grabbing the aforementioned bottles. Then I noticed that the price was $1.50 higher per bottle than at the first store.
Now, normally, I’m not cheap. In fact, I’m probably a little irrational when it comes to that. I actually take issue with people who penny nitpick.
But this struck me as quite odd, so I inquired.
“The rent is higher in this location,” said the Asian surfer-dude in his best SoCal accent. “But I can give ‘em to you at the same price as the other location.”
“Cool, bra!” I said (not really, but I wanted to), “Thanks.”
Now, I’ve shopped in a lot of places. I’ve shopped at a lot of chains. And generally, in my experience, the cost of an item is consistent between locations of the same store. So WTF? Now what am I supposed to do?
Do I stop going to this “chain” altogether? Do I drive the extra nine blocks to the original store to take advantage of their lower rent? Or should I just get really drunk on the gift vodka and black the whole thing out?
Surely it’s five o’clock somewhere.
Monday, January 7, 2008
Passing Thought
While I would love to think that the young woman missing from the Appalachian Trail might be found alive somewhere in the wilderness, I think we all already know her fate.
How, O’Pine? How can YOU know her fate?
Simple. Cherchez les Dents.
See, the last person she was seen alive with was described as having “no teeth.” Now, while I expect that is far more common in the Appalachian regions, it’s still pretty much a red flag.
Normal people have teeth. They may be store-bought, but at least they’re in there. Put “no teeth” and “wilderness trail” together? Might as well cue the banjo music. And it’s probably going to be a dirge.
Aside from the obvious parallel between “dentally challenged” and “mentally challenged” you just don’t see a whole lot of toothless people succeeding in the real world. (yes, Amy Winehouse—the toast of the music world--is missing a fairly prominent tooth. But then again, look where her personal life is at the moment.)
So, in the spirit of Johnnie Cochran, I offer this advice to wayward hikers coming upon a stranger. “If you see gums, then you must run.”
How, O’Pine? How can YOU know her fate?
Simple. Cherchez les Dents.
See, the last person she was seen alive with was described as having “no teeth.” Now, while I expect that is far more common in the Appalachian regions, it’s still pretty much a red flag.
Normal people have teeth. They may be store-bought, but at least they’re in there. Put “no teeth” and “wilderness trail” together? Might as well cue the banjo music. And it’s probably going to be a dirge.
Aside from the obvious parallel between “dentally challenged” and “mentally challenged” you just don’t see a whole lot of toothless people succeeding in the real world. (yes, Amy Winehouse—the toast of the music world--is missing a fairly prominent tooth. But then again, look where her personal life is at the moment.)
So, in the spirit of Johnnie Cochran, I offer this advice to wayward hikers coming upon a stranger. “If you see gums, then you must run.”
Friday, January 4, 2008
Farmers, Lock Up Your Daught--er, Goats!
In case you were wondering whose side to take in the previous comment wars about Florida (if you can call 4 comments a war. “Skirmish” is such a pussy word, though.)
So the headline in the Miami Herald reads:
Goat abuse sparks outcry
And the subhead is:
The case of a goat who was raped and killed has prompted a push for a bill that would outlaw bestiality in Florida.
I’m sorry, can you run that by me one more time?
Bestiality is LEGAL in Florida? WTF, Flo? Who do you think you are, East Texas?
Further shocking news—bestiality is actually legal in 20 states. But they didn’t say which ones. And I’m a blogger, not a researcher. Anyone? Anyone? I’m guessing at least one ends in “ama.” And another one probably ends in “ippi.” But I’m just guessing.
Now, I grew up in a rural area. And there was a lot of joking about sheep fucking. And I was pretty sure, even then, that it wasn’t all joking. We used to say things like, “are you my daaaaddy? But I never in my wildest dreams imagined that there was someplace in the civilized world where it hadn’t been outlawed. Okay, Thailand, maybe. But that’s just to generate tourist dollars.
Of course, it should come as no surprise that Floridians fuck animals. They sure fucked US in 2000.
The goat in question was named Meg and she was a family pet. Apparently of the Penthouse variety. And the really, really creepy thing was that, when she died—she was pregnant with twins. Now I DON’T EVEN WANT TO KNOW what kind of twins those were. But I’m thinking I’m starting to understand Florida politics even more.
It would certainly explain Katherine Harris’ stubborn streak. And the fact that she always ate cans for lunch.
(ED. NOTE: The one sane person apparently made T-shirts that said, “Baaaa means NO!” How do I get my hands on one of those?)
So the headline in the Miami Herald reads:
Goat abuse sparks outcry
And the subhead is:
The case of a goat who was raped and killed has prompted a push for a bill that would outlaw bestiality in Florida.
I’m sorry, can you run that by me one more time?
Bestiality is LEGAL in Florida? WTF, Flo? Who do you think you are, East Texas?
Further shocking news—bestiality is actually legal in 20 states. But they didn’t say which ones. And I’m a blogger, not a researcher. Anyone? Anyone? I’m guessing at least one ends in “ama.” And another one probably ends in “ippi.” But I’m just guessing.
Now, I grew up in a rural area. And there was a lot of joking about sheep fucking. And I was pretty sure, even then, that it wasn’t all joking. We used to say things like, “are you my daaaaddy? But I never in my wildest dreams imagined that there was someplace in the civilized world where it hadn’t been outlawed. Okay, Thailand, maybe. But that’s just to generate tourist dollars.
Of course, it should come as no surprise that Floridians fuck animals. They sure fucked US in 2000.
The goat in question was named Meg and she was a family pet. Apparently of the Penthouse variety. And the really, really creepy thing was that, when she died—she was pregnant with twins. Now I DON’T EVEN WANT TO KNOW what kind of twins those were. But I’m thinking I’m starting to understand Florida politics even more.
It would certainly explain Katherine Harris’ stubborn streak. And the fact that she always ate cans for lunch.
(ED. NOTE: The one sane person apparently made T-shirts that said, “Baaaa means NO!” How do I get my hands on one of those?)
Wednesday, January 2, 2008
Banned From the Mall!
If you told someone you spent New Year’s Eve in jail, I’m pretty sure they would instantly think it was for a DUI or a Public Intoxication. Not so much for Florida State student Franz Leger (great name, by the way. “Alo, my name is Franz Leger). See Franz likes to wear his trousers baggy. Not sure how baggy, but apparently baggy enough to get banned from the mall. Of course, it’s probably the same mall that sold him the baggy pants, but that’s commerce. This was criminal.
(Digression: Banned from the mall?!?!?!? Seriously?!?!? Does the mall have a secret little judicial system operating behind the food court?!?)
See, Franz and his family decided to go to the mall on New Year’s Eve. And Franz apparently chose to wear his baggy pants again. But since he’d already been banned, he was arrested for trespassing.
Yep, you heard it right. A college student was arrested for “trespassing” at a mall because he’d been banned for wearing baggy pants.
Now, I’ve never been a big fan of this particular fashion statement. But I also don’t understand how conservative motherfuckers think that they can legislate fashion. I understand indecency, but this is Florida, for Christ’s sake. People GO THERE to walk around mostly naked on the beach.
Five members of Franz's family came to his defense. And THEY got arrested for trespassing, disorderly conduct and resisting arrest. I’m sure the phrase, “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me” was used at some point during the fracas. Along with, "But we don't even know Ashton Kutcher. How can we get Punk'd?!)
The cops, of course, said they did everything “by the book.” (available at B.Dalton, if you’re interested.)
The Leger family, of course, said they’ll be talking to a lawyer.
Sure hope that after-Christmas sale went well at the Mall. They’re going to be writing a mighty big check.
(Digression: Banned from the mall?!?!?!? Seriously?!?!? Does the mall have a secret little judicial system operating behind the food court?!?)
See, Franz and his family decided to go to the mall on New Year’s Eve. And Franz apparently chose to wear his baggy pants again. But since he’d already been banned, he was arrested for trespassing.
Yep, you heard it right. A college student was arrested for “trespassing” at a mall because he’d been banned for wearing baggy pants.
Now, I’ve never been a big fan of this particular fashion statement. But I also don’t understand how conservative motherfuckers think that they can legislate fashion. I understand indecency, but this is Florida, for Christ’s sake. People GO THERE to walk around mostly naked on the beach.
Five members of Franz's family came to his defense. And THEY got arrested for trespassing, disorderly conduct and resisting arrest. I’m sure the phrase, “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me” was used at some point during the fracas. Along with, "But we don't even know Ashton Kutcher. How can we get Punk'd?!)
The cops, of course, said they did everything “by the book.” (available at B.Dalton, if you’re interested.)
The Leger family, of course, said they’ll be talking to a lawyer.
Sure hope that after-Christmas sale went well at the Mall. They’re going to be writing a mighty big check.
Happy New Year!
Yeah, yeah, yeah. I should have posted this yesterday. You're probably thinking that I was too hung over to post yesterday, but you'd be wrong!!
I started the New Year with a five mile walk around our beautiful Town Lake on New Year's morning. And before you think I might break an arm patting myself on the back, it wasn't my doing. My Beloved dragged my ass there. But I'm glad he did. It was nice to start the year that way. Literally and symbolically.
Still working on my resolutions, but chief among them is the commitment to write more. Starting with this blog. Not sure what that means, but I'll know it when I see it. : )
Keep up the fight. The Stupid People are in the hunt.
I started the New Year with a five mile walk around our beautiful Town Lake on New Year's morning. And before you think I might break an arm patting myself on the back, it wasn't my doing. My Beloved dragged my ass there. But I'm glad he did. It was nice to start the year that way. Literally and symbolically.
Still working on my resolutions, but chief among them is the commitment to write more. Starting with this blog. Not sure what that means, but I'll know it when I see it. : )
Keep up the fight. The Stupid People are in the hunt.
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