Monthly Archives: November 2011

Barney Frank Broke Up With Us

English: Official Congressional portrait of Co...

People get married to keep a good person next to them for life, which is why gay marriage should be made legal nationwide so we can make Congressman Barney Frank stay with us even if he’s ready to call it quits. We can’t just let a catch like him get up and leave Congress. Barney is cute, has a lisp, and his name… is there anyone better qualified to get grumpy and tell it like it is other than a Barney? I mean sure you can find one at your local dive bar now and then, but in the House of Representatives, that’s harder to come by. I know right now there are bigger stories to discuss, including the Occupy demonstrators getting kicked out of L.A.’s City Hall, but like after any break-up, I only want to talk about the break-up.

So why are you leaving us Barney?  It’s us, not you? That’s just like you isn’t it; blaming everyone but yourself. Or what, things got too tough? You’re ready to move on? I’ve heard it before, but you can’t escape love Mr. Frank. You gave of yourself and fought for us and made us think you’d always be there. You have been that boyfriend that is a jerk to everyone but his girlfriend. That’s because conservatives don’t understand you the way your constituents and I do. I know about the redistricting in Massachusetts and your unwillingness to woo a whole set of new voters, but what did you expect? That’s what happens in a long term relationship. People change now and then and you have to do the romance dance all over again. Are we not worth it?

You say you can better serve by not seeking re-election, but we all know what that means–you found someone else didn’t you? It’s Jim Ready isn’t it? I know you guys have been seeing each other for five years but what’s gonna happen when he’s your only one?  That relationship seems fun right now ’cause it’s your escape from Congress, but when you leave, do you think it will still have that same je ne sais quoi? Well I wish Jim lots of luck. He’s gonna need it, ’cause I don’t know how he’s gonna handle it when you have no one else to get angry with but him every day. I’m sorry. I’m not bitter. We’re adults after all. I’m sure Jim is a lovely man with a beard. It’s just hard to say goodbye after 16 terms in office. You’ve been so lovely at being so angry and loud Barney: your little voice ready to give out at any moment, your disheveled hair. I hope this next year lets you fulfill everything you wanted to and continue to kick mucho ass outside of Congress. Enjoy your life to the fullest at 71 Mr. Frank. I’ll try to move on and enjoy CSPAN without you. In the meantime, forgive me if I sit and replay these old videos of you to bad break-up ballads that always seem to pop up every time I think of you. *Tear*

Go to 3:05 for his speech

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Thanksgiving with Friends or Family

My friend Dionne hard at work in the kitchen

Can everyone’s younger sibling that still goes on about the tragedy of celebrating Thanksgiving please leave the room? We’re talking Thanksgiving–the All-American feast of food where we reap the rewards of our abundant produce and edible imports from around the world, so that at no given time throughout the year our people are never without avocados or strawberries. Food–it’s our national obsession. To become a citizen it’s required you overindulge in it and watch hours of TV shows watching people eating it, preparing and eating it, and eating it and commenting on eating it. Food is what brought our nation’s people together before killing each other and ripping one group of people from their homes. We don’t even care if food is good on this foodie day, until you’re halfway through a bland mash of green beans and potatoes.

If you’re staying home for the holidays and celebrating with a bunch of “orphans,” your taste buds will most likely be graced with a meal prepared by the best cook, who is most inspired and who resides in the coziest setting. If it’s family, the host is usually the worst cook but she/he is dependable and does it every year and we call it tradition. Of course in this day and age there is also the TDay Potluck or TDay Wild Card/Bi-Polar–as some dishes may turn out heavenly while other recipes cull from a guest’s family’s tradition.

I myself give thanks this year for not having to spend it with family.  If I did, my husband and I would travel to Houston, where my mom takes over cooking duties and as a guest, I can only sit back and give thanks. As someone who loves to cook, it always makes me a little crazy to hand over a holiday with such exciting produce options to my mom who prefers to make everything from a can or box. Not that I blame her too much–the woman has always hated cooking but loves that she has to do it or else…EVERYONE WOULD STARVE TO DEATH!  Obviously this has always been of critical concern:

What I especially find interesting about the family TDay meal is that it somehow always reeks a little of the same dishes mom used to make almost every day of the week. Difference of course being the turkey, cranberry sauce from a can (my mom must have the can-formed rings around the jelly), and the yams from a can covered in marshmallows (as wrong as that is I admit it’s yummy). The rest was same ol’ same ol’.  I’m Cuban so what we had was most likely different from what you had, but trust me when you have the following at least 3 times a week in some kind of random rotation, even if it tastes good, it is not exotic or exciting: picadillo–a kind of Cuban chili my mom would make use of on TDay to stuff the turkey, boiled yuca, mashed potatoes from a box, salad of greens and tomatoes, black beans and rice, tostones (smashed fried plantains–not the sweet kind) or platanos fritos (fried plantains–the sweet kind), a so-called baguette from the grocery store bakery, and for dessert, flan. Now the flan was a thrice yearly thing my sibling and I actually got excited about because as opposed to what you might think from that picture above, my mom never had anything sweet around the house except for maybe frosted corn flakes which we coveted.

My Mom's holiday flan one year. She couldn't find a platter big enough.

No this year, I have chosen to spend it with friends, where the food is always different and tastes festive. Where conversation do not mirror super committee political debates that lead to nowhere and wine always flows. I give thanks this year to staying put and keeping my eye on the food prize. I am American and I will be stuffed!

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Be Positive

Everyone needs to be positive; if you don’t you die – just ask Andy Rooney. Which is why we as a country need to start turning that frown upside down. With so much depressing talk about government bond ratings getting downgraded, stocks sinking, and high unemployment rates, it’s no wonder no one feels confident enough to make the kind of inappropriate purchases that got us here in the first place. It’s time that we take some lessons from followers of The Secret and every positive person your grumpy friend has ever wanted to punch.

When things are going bad never let people know.  No one likes to be with a downer ’cause downers are no fun.  But if you feel like you really need to talk about what you’re going through just make sure you turn your negative experience into something like A Challenge or Life Lesson. Just look at how Sharon Bialek, one of Herman Cain‘s accusers, made her allegations more agreeable on CBS’ Early Show this week:

“I don’t despise the man. I actually did it because I wanted to help him. I wanted to give him a platform to come clean, to have to tell the truth. And he still hasn’t done it, and it’s really a shame because he could  he could have switched it. He could have, you know, come forward, and I was trying to be nice about it, too. And it just didn’t work.”

See-she wasn’t coming forward because according to her Cain was a slimebag that she wanted to take down, she was just lending a helpful hand. If she went with the whiney negative Oh I’m such a victim angle, no one would have listened because people don’t like people who can’t t help themselves.

So be positive and make your own life awesome! Imagine yourself accomplishing your goals and being where you wish to be. Put together a collage of everything you want and say it out loud to the universe or to a mirror and…voilà – magic – it all comes true. Don’t believe me? Just ask any professional athlete who has won a championship what they did to prepare for the big game. Sure they sacrificed those precious hours better spent in front of a TV to training hard everyday, but what really matters is that they envisioned winning the game in vivid detail, replaying that victory over and over so on the big day… voilà – magic. That’s what professional winners do. Of course we don’t know what losers do because we’re America and America is always #1 even when we’re not. So let’s be that America and focus on our strengths and desires and ask the universe for anything that can be represented by a really pretty picture from a fashion magazine so we can get over this lame time and have fun again!

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F*%k You Breast Cancer Research!

Take a quick look at these photos. What one thing do I have in all of them? That’s right, a big happy smile. But now after reading an article in the New York Times, it looks like these happy photos will be no more ’cause according to new research findings, a few drinks can raise your risk of getting breast cancer. Well f**k you Breast Cancer! And f#%k your researchers!

Breast cancer has always pissed me off. Thanks to breast cancer I have to do circular check-up feel-ups on my breasts that I still don’t know when to do so I do them every time fear sets in; thanks to breast cancer women get to look forward to getting their boobs smashed for mammograms-SMASHED! Breast cancer can kill big breasted women’s identity and one of their massive appendages, for small breasted women, it can take the tiny bit of boob the tiny boobied already have, and worst of all breast cancer killed a beautiful, healthy, charming and giggly friend of mine when she was 30 and that is just f**king unforgivable. Then yesterday I hear this bull$*it that any amount of alcohol increases women’s chances of developing breast cancer?! F**k you Breast Cancer! Women like their booze!

What would Sex and the City be if it wasn’t for their stupid Cosmos? What would ladies night be without a cheesy bottle of red wine to accompany our very in-depth conversation? How few dudes would we really have to choose from if we didn’t have drink goggles? How many ladies would never see their husbands during sports seasons if they couldn’t hang with a pitcher of beer? And what kind of awful mistakes would we not learn from if we couldn’t get stupid with some complicated dumb-named shots in college?  To take drinking from women isn’t just a little something we can all do without, you’re robbing us of an entire way of life.  Oh so what? Men are the only ones that can enjoy the amazing happy  hours that have finally sprung up, or the fancy cocktail schmocktail revolution us mixed drink fans have waited for for so long? F**k you! Drink time has finally gotten good and now that smoking is out of the picture, I have too few vices in my life to get this taken away from me too. Not that I always drink, but hell, if I can’t indulge in Balenciaga then Lord let me please feel that I can indulge in a drink when I feel like it. F*@k you Breast Cancer. Why? Why?

Hell – you know what Breast Cancer? I probably shouldn’t even be so pissed off at you for this booze attack. You’re just doing your thing. It’s those God da** researchers that are f#*king things up! Seriously?! You had to spend 30 years researching a bunch of drunk ladies? You couldn’t look into plastics, the environment, cars, Chicken McNuggets?!  What’s next on your list party poopers: chocolate, deep tissue massage, Paris?! Oh f*%k you if I can’t go to Paris ’cause so far thanks to your awesome new finding I can never visit New Orleans again unless I chop my breasts off and go Chaz Bono. What’s supposed to happen to the women who like to relax, feel a little sexier than usual and pretend we’re in a Tuscan villa when having dinner with friends? What’s our alternative? Pot?! I’m not in college anymore! I can’t do that 7 days a week! Nothing against those that can, but sorry, I have never found a particularly good pairing between pot and lobster. Sure pot is great to build an appetite but you can’t take tiny puffs while eating-trust me, the flavor never compliments a menu outside of Jack in the Box. How about cocaine? What about it? I can’t afford it. Plus you can’t do it casually while getting ready for a night out on the town and you can’t snort it when a friend is feeling in the dumps and needs a sympathetic ear. On cocaine we’d all be the worst friends ever. And forget psychedelics, those take too long and there is no hair of the dog brunch that can cure the awful hangover the next day. Oh sh**! Brunch! I hadn’t thought about that. Stupid researchers are getting rid of ladies with mimosas?! Ah hells no!

What’s with you people? You’ve obviously got a grudge. So what is it Mr. and Mrs. Scientist Researcher? Did you hate waiting in line for breakfast on Sundays at your favorite restaurant? Did loud ladies at the bar scare you from being yourself and having a good time? What, you don’t like helping platformed women up who stumbled drunk on the ground? Or maybe you did all this ’cause you’re both perverts and love you some drunk women. I get that. You figured the only way to surround yourself with 100,000 easy ladies for 30 years was to have someone else pay for the drinks and call it research. Yeah, we’ve all heard that before-we just didn’t know it was true!!!! From here on out us ladies have got to save ourselves and our good times. Please, I beg you all, do NOT volunteer for any other research that is finding fault with anything you might love. And researchers please, if you have to put out shi**y findings like yesterday’s, then please balance it with some shi**y findings for men as well.

Thank you.

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