Archive for March, 2006

Published by PaintingChef on 31 Mar 2006

Picking just one was REALLY hard!!

One day, about a month ago, I was making the rounds of my morning reads and I came across something very cool posted by Sarcomical. It was a “Perfect Post” award that she had given as part of something started by Petroville and Suburban Turmoil. So I read a little more about it and decided that I wanted to sign up for March. And here it is, the end of March and time to award my very first “Perfect Post”.

You may not know it but I’ve spent the past couple of days combing through many of your March archives and remembering why I kind of love you all. I narrowed the list down to three posts and finally picked one. You are all VERY cool people who made it tres difficult because you are all so funny and witty and well-spoken. And also? You can tug at my heart strings when I least expect it.

So without further ado, I would like to present my Perfect Post award to Zube Girl for “Fuck the Bright Side.”

A Perfect Post

Favoritism! Cronyism! You are all screaming it, I can hear you! But that’s not the case, I promise. My beloved Zube has suffered some horrible heartache lately and she is very brave to lay it all out there for people to see. And she never fails to do it in a way that brings a lump to my throat and tears to my eyes. She is funny, witty, brave, honest, and inspiring all at once and whatever she takes on, she does it with style and grace. So when she wrote this and said “You know what? Fuck it. I’m going to be sad for a little bit. I deserve it.” I just wanted to run across the country armed with margaritas, chocolate brownies and flannel pajama pants and camp out on her couch with her watching Lifetime Movies and Sex and the City DVDs until she was good and damn ready to face the bright side again.

Published by PaintingChef on 30 Mar 2006

Stupid pet tricks.

Being the people with no bipedal offspring to call our own, Patrick and I do things like bathe the dog in the shower and make up little conversations between her and the cat. (Yes, you may all commence feeling sorry for the crazy barren animal lady and her poor poor husband). I do wonder if the beasts are anywhere near as clever and cute as we make them out to be.

But since we are going back to the beach this weekend we made the executive decision to go ahead and wash the dog because even though she is going to romp and frolic in the ocean and be a wet salty beast, a clean wet salty beast is far better than a dirty one that smells slightly of feet. I would like to now introduce you to the ritual known as dog bath-time at the P-Chef household…

Belle is stripped of her collar which instantly incites me to screech “You’re NAKED! NAKED! I can’t even look at you!” Which of course causes her to jump around like a crackpuppy because she knows that bath time is just around the bend. She then bolts into the bathroom and jumps in and out of the shower two or three times as she tries to decide if she’s kosher with this whole bath thing.

Patrick then gets into the shower with Belle because he is good and awesome husband. Belle is soaked down, scrubbed to within an inch of her life with Head and Shoulders because it makes her smell pretty and she had oh so delicate dry skin and then rinsed. Thoroughly. Periodically during this scrubbing we must stop and remove the 10-12 pounds of dog hair from the drain that threaten to turn this shower into a bath for two. (I know…ew…)

Patrick will then ask if I’m prepared for him to release the hound and he opens the shower door, Belle jumps out and makes a beeline for the towel she knows is on the floor and proceeds to dry herself off. Yes. Dry herself off. Which I now present to you in video format… Please excuse the poor lighting. Apparently in addition to my full time film crew having the day off, there was a light bulb or two out in the living room…


Video Sharing at DropShots.com

Published by PaintingChef on 29 Mar 2006

Why I love Patrick. Chapter four gazillion.

“I drove by your office earlier today.  We were on our way to see a vendor to…(insert something technical and engineer-ish here)”

“You drove by?  Right by my door?  And you didn’t even honk?  Now I’m a little sad.”

“Well, I was in the backseat.  I would have honked but I might have caused an accident.”

“Excellent judgment my dear.  Gold star for you.”

‘Thank you.  I was proud.”

“Well did you at least THINK honk honk in your pretty little head?”

“Of course I did.  What kind of man do you think I am?”

Published by PaintingChef on 29 Mar 2006

A healthy breakfast is the backbone of every good relationship.

I was one of those kids who missed the bus every single morning.  It didn’t matter how early my parents would wake me up, I was going to be late.  Because of this, my daddy would take me to school most every day.  Truth be told, as long as I didn’t really need to be conscious enough to operate heavy machinery or remember my name, address, and just where it was that I was headed, I probably could have made it to the bus stop on time but I always secretly looked forward to the morning drive with my dad.

It was during these drives over a period of 4 or 5 years that my daddy and I became really close.  In those mornings, many little jokes that we still laugh like fools over today, first became part of our routine.  One of those jokes?  The Cricket N’ Cheese.

There was a…less than appealing looking little gas station that had long since ceased to sell gas or anything that wasn’t at least 3 years past its expiration date that we passed every morning.  Of course if we had been headed for the father-daughter fishing and beer bash, we would have been in luck but for some reason, I missed that social event every year.  Most likely I couldn’t ever find the right shoes…

But as I was almost always running late, I very rarely ate the breakfast that my mother had fixed and laid out for me to grab on my way out the door because even at the tender age of middle school-ish, I was a flighty and forgetful one.  So…feeding the kid breakfast usually fell on daddy’s shoulders (and yes…I am 28 and I still call him daddy) and nine times out of ten consisted of the drive thru at McDonalds or Hardees. 

As a predictable person, I ordered the same thing every day…a chicken biscuit with cheese and a Sprite (which hasn’t changed to this day…).  But every morning daddy would tease me and pretend that he was going to pull in the scary gas station and he would tell me that we were going to feast on Cricket n’ Cheese biscuits that morning.  Even to this day, when my parents come to visit me and Patrick in Augusta, I will tell daddy that we are having Cricket n’ Cheese for breakfast. 

I think a father-daughter relationship that includes regular threats of a cheese-covered cricket breakfast is the very definition of normal.  Don’t you?

Published by PaintingChef on 28 Mar 2006

Spaminator 101

Is anyone else being severly beaten about the head and neck by spammers today?  I have, just TODAY, received 54 spam comments.  FIFTY FOUR.  As in…a lot.

So look here online casino and listen up random penis drugs…LEAVE ME ALONE!

Anyone…anyone…?

Oh, I’m sorry.  When I posted this less than an hour ago, APPARENTLY it was an invitation to crazy evil spammers across the world to unite and nearly DOUBLE the number to over one hundred.  Seriously people?  Seriously?

Anyway, thank you to SayUncle for his suggestion!!

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