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.

1.10.2005

O-o-o-o-pra-homa!

Apparently I have really fucked up my karma. (damn Couric) My boss decided it would be a really good idea if I perused and joined the Oprah message boards, so I can post stuff she writes.

Why. Why Elvis. Why hast thou forsaken me?


Sure, Oprah's a swell woman. She does good stuff. She gives a lot to charity, and was positively swell in The Color Purple (and I always weep like a little kid at the end of it...). I'll even grudgingly give her credit for getting people who probably wouldn't normally read anything deeper than the liner notes to their latest Precious Moments Figurine box, into bookstores and libraries. I no longer actively hate her, but did when I worked for Borders. I had been operating under a "live and let live" policy with regards to Ms. W. If I don't watch her show, I won't want to turn into a soccer mom. Seems reasonable enough.

Oy. Now I *have* to flit around on her website. Imagine, if you will, a big pink room, filled with ginormous vases of the cutest ittle wittle roses you've ever seen, and you're being served petit-fours, decorated sugar cubes, and an IV of straight glucose, while looking at that "Hang In There" kitten on a tree limb, with a choir of cherub-cheeked preschoolers sings "Butterfly Kisses", while Thomas Kinkeade whips up a brand new masterpiece in front of your eyes, and puppies, lambs, and baby ducklings frolic at your feet. Multiply that by 3,000 and you begin to approach the annoying level of "you go girl!" sweetness and light that emanates from that site.

Seriously.

My little black hate-filled heart can't handle such earnest goodness. It may very well kill me. Either that, or make me start liking crap like Kenny G albums, and minivans.

May Elvis have mercy on my soul.


Funniest quote from my boss today: "I woke up in the middle of the night and realized I hadn't fed my kids before I left for a 3 hour board meeting! No wonder they were crying when I got home!"

My boss's kids are 13, 15, and 17. The 17 year old gets some slack, because she has her own issues. But a 15 year old and a 13 year old not being able to fend for themselves?

Dear Bosschildren,

I know it may seem unthinkable, but people your age, and indeed even younger than you, manage to make their own meals not merely once or twice, but three times a day! It may seem cruel and unusual, but I assure you, you can derive sustenance from the "magic cold thing" in your kitchen. And, you can also turn cold things hot in that "magic cooking machine" the one that makes your popcorn. In fact, people have written entire books (!) about how to prepare food using the "big fire thing" and "magic cooking machine". Amazing, isn't it?

So, the next time your mother has a meeting, and you get hungry, instead of crying, try using the "magic can opening device" on a can of "soup" from the cupboard, putting it into a bowl and putting it in the "magic cooking machine" for a few minutes. It may not be what your mother would make, but it will keep you from dying.

Sincerely,

Special Sauce
(Who babysat Odie [official younger brother of Special Sauce] for entire summers from the age of 9 on, and has been cooking for longer than that.)



3 Comments:

Blogger parcequilfaut said...

I am also anti-earnest goodness. I like goodness that doesn't gasp when I light a cigarette. And while I would totally vote Oprah, I don't watch her show. (I do appreciate that she donates her magazine to hospitals, as it was the most current magazine last time I was there and was better than nothin'.) But this can't be Katie C karma. She may be earnest but she is not good at all.

However, if I had waited around 3 hours for my mom to wait on me, I'd still be waiting. I was doing most of my own laundry and cooking my own meals by the time I was 14. My mom would make my lunch, just because I had to get up so ridiculously early (6:30 am -- hour commute) and she knew I was usually still so tired I'd forget and then have no lunch, but if the fam had eaten by the time I got home from school, I waited on my own self. I cleaned my own bathroom too.
Mama needs to watch a little MORE Oprah and teach her children how to be a bit more self sufficient, methinks. Are you sure you weren't supposed to register at martha.com, there? :)

11:44 PM  
Blogger Ghost of Goldwater said...

You've got the wrong approach regarding these kids. People who can't feed themselves at that age should simply be allowed to starve to death in front of the fridge - think of it as chlorine in the gene pool.

2:22 AM  
Blogger luz de la luna said...

OMG! What can I say? You must have been a bad, bad, bad person in your former life to get this karma? There is only one option left to you. You must hire a hit man and take her out! :-D

Best Wishes
La luna

6:16 PM  

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