The Democrats Are Coming!

Star in Your Own JibJab! It's Free!Somehow it's much funnier and more true when you and your friends are starring. Thanks Colby!

Manic Monday

Where Yinz Been N'at?

I have been a little busy/have nothing interesting to post lately, thus a week with no post. But, I will give you a slight update.

My Thanksgiving this year was a bit different than usual. Since I have been on strike for so long, I originally thought I would have work on Friday, so decided to make the trek home to my parents Friday evening where we would hold the traditional turkey feast Saturday afternoon. Well, as it turned out, I didn't have to work Friday and came home earlier, but we still did everything on Saturday. Thanksgiving dinner was steaks on the grill with my parents and a few drinks afterwards with some friends. Friday I met up with some other friends from home and finally finished the book Siddhartha, of which I will post more about soon. Saturday was Thanksgiving for me, but half my family was out of town, so it was doubly strange. I decided to take it upon myself to drink up most of the wine sitting around my parents house to make the family bonding time more bearable. Which brings us to here, as I get ready for a brand new work week tomorrow. As per Jen-nay's post on Thanksgiving tradition and fun old TV re-runs, I did happen to grab Saturday Night Live this week which was a "Thanksgiving Leftover" special. (I assume this had something to do with the writer strike). I always like when SNL does this kind of episode with a montage of really great old clips. Some of my particular favorite Thanksgiving skits are Chris Rock's "Pump The Turkey" commercial and Cinder Calhoun's anti-turkey song on Weekend Update.


Hope everyone had a great holiday!

Manic Monday

More Grunge Comin' At Ya

What makes a 90's music video great you ask? Well, an old man crucified with a pope hat, fetuses hanging from trees and a child in a clan outfit help.


I rock this song on Guitar Hero by the way. Also, here's a Cobain fix for you, Elisabeth.

Yellow!

A big YELLOW to new reader Dee Dee! Thanks for reading!

Definitely Not Yum-mo.

Today's Hump Day leaves me with two sub-par dining experiences. After my strike duties this afternoon I went to a small tavern in the next town over. One of my work cohorts suggested the place because it was "close and has good food". Well, she was half right. I had been to the place only once before, but not to eat. The mood was set by the waitress (who had a deeper voice than I do) rolling her eyes when not everyone at the table was ready to order. When it finally came time, she blurted out "Excuse me!" and made a rolling motion as if she was too busy to wait with her hand to my friend who was having some trouble making up her mind. When all the orders were made, another friend decided to change her order, to which the waitress replied "You know, I've got other orders up and a lot of things to do". Ok, thanks. No new order. To further the ambiance, a half empty, already open liter jug of ice tea with a glass of ice was placed in front of someone who ordered the drink, and I got an economy size bottle of Hidden Valley ranch dressing which was obviously quite an old bottle that they simply kept refilling because I ordered my salad dressing "on the side". My "grilled" chicken salad was OK, except the chicken was boiled and chewy. Yum-mo numero ONE.

To treat myself further this evening because the strike is now complete, I decided to order from a gourmet pizza shop here in town. I had ordered from here before and everything was generally quite good. This place has interesting pizza choices such as the "Cypress Pizza" with feta and eggplant and the "Bacon Cheddar & Fries Pizza" (a sure artery clogger). I decided to go with the "Monte Cristo" which claims to include white sauce with sun-dried tomates, fire roasted red peppers, prosciutto, mozzarella and provolone. I also included an order of hot wings because they were on special. When the pizza came it was definitely not as gourmet as it was cracked up to be. The prosciutto was more like diced ham, no sauce and no tomatoes. The wings were freezer burnt and had no sauce. Normally I would call back and bitch, but tonight it just doesn't seem worth it. I'm taking it as a sign that I need to quit eating out and start eating better.

Long story short $35 spent today on food that was positively NOT yum-mo.

Manic Monday

More Music Please

The first time I heard this song was in the fantastic series finale of Six Feet Under, (which if you haven't seen it, spend the time to watch it.) and never knew the artist or name of the song. But, I knew I liked it. I forgot about it for about a year until just today I saw a trailer for the movie "Awake", which looks a little too creepy for me. It reminded me of just how much I like the song, and made me remember how moving it made the finale. With a little research I discovered the title is "Breathe Me" by Sia. Every once in a while it's nice to have some mellow chill music to jam to.

Ahh The Multiple Family Dwelling Life...

This morning on my way out to run some errands, (how I wish I could say on my way out for my morning jog or something of the like. Sounds much better doesn't it?) I noticed yet another magnetic character added to the mailbox diorama in my hallway. I find these figures a complete riot and wish I knew who put them there. There are no kids living in my building full time, but none of my neighbors seem to know the culprit, or at least are not willing to own up to the deed. I really enjoy that they are mail carries and one over sized armadillo looking creature. Maybe it's my mail carrier herself, which would also be funny, in fact, probably funnier. I think this afternoon before I leave I'm going to place the figures in a compromising pose and see what happens. I'll update with pictures.

In other apartment living news, a picture frame was knocked right off my living room table because my downstairs neighbors are BLASTING a Johhny Cash CD. I think it's time I have a little chat with my classic country friends.

Distrubing Phallic or Poor Gardening Technique?

You be the judge.

It's Ribbleicious

Some days, usually at a random time, I get the urge to do something domesticated. Today was one such day. On whim I decided to make a pot of chicken soup. Chicken "Ribble" soup to be specific. I'm not exactly sure what the real term for ribbles is, (I've called it that since I was young) but it is simply balls of dough in the soup instead of noodles. It was something my grandmother made frequently and became a sort of family tradition. However, several member of my family, my sister in particular, are repulsed by the ribbles for an unknown reason.

I've never really made soup before and definately never ribbles. I think it was quite a success and gave me warm reminiscent feeling on this chilly and dreary day.

My method was far from "mom and grandma traditional". My mother is somewhat of a purist in her cooking, (and a damn fine cook I might add) and gave me the recipe which included making broth and using cheese cloth to make an herb sachet. I opted out of the sachet. In fact, I'm quite sure my mother would have a small fit if she knew I used store bought chicken broth and chicken breasts instead of a whole roaster chicken. To me, whole chickens always looked like babies being cooked and it freaks me out. Not to mention picking the carcass of a chicken is, to me, one of the most vile things. I did however make the "ribbles" from scratch. Although, I took a more modern spin on the dough and added some spices and herbs to make them a bit more interesting.

One hour, 3 smoke alarm triggers and a messy kitchen later I had a great bowl of soup. I'm pretty proud of the way it turned out, but now have to figure out what to do with the two extra gallons of soup I have for one person. Soup anyone?

In Your Head

I've had a lack of interesting bits to share lately. Mostly due to my out of work situation, I've been in a bit of a funk and haven't done much productive. I do however want to share another one of my favorite songs and videos. (Which, I believe will become a regular theme-day on The Peace Train)

"Zombie" by The Cranberries is a hugely powerful and moving song with a great video. Enjoy!

Manic Monday

Radiohead

I submit for your viewing and listening pleasure: "Karma Police" by Radiohead. A completely awesome jam from their album "OK Computer" which also rocks.

We Need A Life

I've never really understood the sick fascination with the personal lives of celebrities. Although I have to admit, some days a click on the entertainment link or a quick flip through OK! magazine is too hard to pass up. Today was one such day. I happened to click a link from MSN.com which said that Lance Armstrong and Ashley Olsen are dating. My immediate reaction was "who gives a shit", but at the same time I had to read on. (Although this particular situation was a bit scandalous because of the 15 year age difference, plus the fact that I still picture the Olsen twins in pigtails saying "You got it dude". Not blowing coke and sleeping with someone almost twice their age.) Why do we as the public feel it our right to know the ins and outs of our favorite celebrity's personal life?

One thing I absolutely can not stand is the combining of two names when a new romance blossoms. A la "Bennifer" or "Tomcat". The newest one I discovered in the same article is "Gyllenspoon". Apparently "Reese Witherspoon and Jake Gyllenhaal have rapidly gone from wily to smiley. On the heels of their touchy-feely, piggy back-ride-capped tour of Rome, the once clandestine couple was caught on video a few days back yukking it up on a Los Angeles beach." How disturbing.

The most disgusting segment (or at least title) of gossip smut I've seen in a while is Womb Watch which was linked to the above article. Womb Watch? Really? That seems to be the set up to a wonderful punchline in a joke I love to tell.

Even though it is tempting to catch up on the latest Brittney meltdown or to see from what country "Brangelina" will get their next baby, gossip columns have gone too far. Yes, that's what celebrities should know they are getting into when the enter the business, but have our minds become so rotted that we have to follow their every move?