Special Sauce

A mish-mash of twisted thoughts from a fevered ego. Updated when the spirit moves me, contents vary and may have settled during shipping. Do not open towards eyes. Caution: Ingestion of Special Sauce may cause hair loss, halitosis, and a burning sensation while urinating.


Best. Lunch. Ever.

Today I got to go to lunch with one of my friends from High School. Turned out, he surprised me by inviting along one of our mutual friends too, and we ended up reminiscing and laughing for three (!) hours. Fear not, the restaurant was slow, and we tipped well. What a great time we had. One of us is married, one came out, and one still isn't sure what's happening (I'll let you guess who is who). It was very funny though to know that we all had a crush on the same guy, and probably still wouldn't kick him out of bed. Heh.

None of us are what we thought we'd be, or what we were told we'd be when we were in school. Go figure. We ended up a lot better off than some did, I'd say. We didn't do what one of our classmates did- leap to his death on his honeymoon, never explained why. We also didn't burn out on drugs and stupidity, didn't get trapped into getting married too soon, and finding out too late... Some days I have regrets, but know that I haven't done so badly for myself.

Another shout out to the Memphis Word Nerd- Believe it or not, I actually don't own any G. Love and Special Sauce. Hee! I should, but they're not the actual reason I have this nickname. It all stems from my tendency to refer to G. Monkey as just plain G (and vice versa). While working on the office from hell over the summer, we discovered her latent talent for making really really good monkey noises. (and has really long monkey arms, compared to mine). Somehow it just sort of stuck that She was G. Monkey, and I, her sidekick, was Special Sauce. Go figure. *L*

And, in the spirit of recycling, I'll present you with the listing of things I'm thankful for, and a story about one of the items...

1. The entire Schiff Brothers Oevure- Weasels Rip my Flesh, They Don't Mow The Yard Anymore... god, it's so hard to choose just one.

2. The kind hearted folks at McNeill Pharmaceuticals, and the good people at Turkey Hill, without whom I couldn't have my favorite breakfast- Coffee and Motrin.

3. HP Bulmer Inc- the makers of Strongbow, whom I'd love a whole lot more if they'd distribute locally, and give me even more incentive to have my favorite breakfast a lot more often.

4. "Little People", Tioti Whitehurst, the Key West Police Department, the Coca farmers of South America, Wyeth-Ayerst labs, 19 year old mormons, and the internet- for each one contributing in their own way to make my "love life" that much more interesting. If nothing else, I have great stories to tell.

5. My friends, who have kept me in stitches and out of trouble, and who have made me laugh my ass off innumerable times in the past year. Good on ya.

This year's Thanksgiving will be infinitely better than the last, unless somehow, my cokehead ex boyfriend manages to show up at my parents house and bitches about how much he doesn't even want to be there, like he did last year. (well, substitute "my apartment" for "my parents house" and you have last year.) And maybe as a special treat, my roommate's stalker ex boyfriend could show up, and act all creepy too. As it is, I think we'll just have to deal with garden variety relatives, which is much more tolerable.


Happy Thanksgiblet, everyone


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