Wollycobbled Fizzbang

22 01 2015

Lately I have had this burning desire to write, however, I have absolutely nothing to say. So I looked up some writing prompts and found a few that sounded fun, but then my sloth genes took over and I failed at those. Okay, the Letter to a Loved One sounded promising but I didn’t feel like paddling down that river of sadness and so I am putting that one off for a few months. There are a few people I would really love to address such letters to, but again…river of sadness, me in a mesh canoe and a slotted paddle…not a pretty thing. I look terrible and even more so when I have been crying.

Moving on, I think I will just write whatever comes into my head. Just spew forth some mental vomit on the digital page. On second thought, no one wants to really see that. I realize that it seems like, in the past, I have willingly purged loads of my brain goo all over this blog, but rest assured, all of my cerebral musings have been carefully controlled. You really do not want to know what my brain can hurl towards your unsuspecting eyeballs at approximately 56 mph. Trust that it would make me look like a complete obsessive freak…no, really. More so than I already let on…it’s a bit scary, to be honest. As an example, let me post a conversation I just spewed at a good friend in an IM:

Me: no one wants to read a soliloquy on David Tennant’s ass…see? I should never speak
Me: I blame spouse…he wanted to watch all the episodes of Doctor Who before they take them off of netflix
Me: now we are out of the Tennant years though, so I think my obsessiveness can rest
Me: Matt Smith is just meh
Me: (shutting up now)

See what I mean? And please do note that this is all me rapid firing posts to him before he ever posts back. This happens frequently, but those who know me well accept it as one of my many, many foibles. Well, they accept it and probably mock me behind my back…which is fine, I am quite aware of how ridiculous I am.

I just thought of something to write about. Things I will admit/cop to:

I like Coldplay. I know, judge away, I care not…I really do like them. Hey, it’s not like they are Nickleback or something!

I don’t care what anyone thinks about me, the new gerber baby freaks me out. I have only seen the one photo, but it’s clutching its wee hands under its chin, looking right at the camera and smiling like a fucking cherub and it gives me the creeps. Pings that uncanny valley feeling in my mind and makes me shudder.

I really like McDonald’s fries and small cheeseburgers. The fries must be eaten fresh though, let them sit for a bit and they are ruined. The cheeseburgers must be eaten with no pickles or salt on the meat…yes, I piss off drive through people by ordering this way. I like pickles…like them quite a bit, actually…just not on a burger.

Okay, I lost my steam on that one. I am currently cooking while I write this and the constant stopping and checking on the soup made me lose my train of thought. Honestly, it doesn’t take much for that to happen these days. I forget what I am doing mere milliseconds after thinking it. My life largely consists of me wandering about trying to recall what I was in the process of doing when my brain apparently checked out to play hopscotch. Or two-square. I am not really sure what my brain is off doing but I am convinced it is some sort of Laura Ingalls-style recess game.

On another note, I am making a soup of various bits and pieces of produce that I had lying around and I am a bit worried that it will come off tasting like burnt radiator fluid. It certainly smells that way, but that’s probably because I cannot rid my hands of the smell of celeriac…which reeks like burnt radiator fluid to me. I have read many things about how celeric is a great sub for potatoes with less starch and more fiber, but I really hope the flavor is transformed as the smell while I was cutting it almost made me vomit. I really don’t like celery. I will cook with it, but it is not even in my top three least favorite foods. It ranks right down there with lima beans, canned peas and mackeral. My nightmare meal would be a trifle made of celery, lima beans, mackeral and canned peas…topped with chopped black licorice. Yes, I also abhor black licorice.

Getting back to my cooking, the soup was a lovely mix of potato, onion, kale, celeriac and fennel…tastes quite spiffy too. I am not sure I will make the exact thing again, but I was pleased to know that celeriac does indeed taste far better than it smells raw. With that, I am ceasing this useless prattle so I can shovel food in my gullet and I apologize for the useless drivel.

 

Advertisements

Actions

Information

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s




%d bloggers like this: