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.


Will wonders never cease?

1. The dregs next door actually weed whacked their front lawn AND side yard. Twice in one month- this could be a veritable record! Granted, the actual back yard hasn't been touched, and most likely never will be, but hey, I can see to get out of my own driveway again!

Their impetus was the purchase of a large, inflatable pool. So now I can look out my kitchen window and see them all lounging about in it. But it beats dealing crack, so...

2. Someone actually found my blog by googling their own name. (Fear not, Anon-a-ma-fus, your secret's safe with me until whenever. But I have to ask, do they really have a jar in the basement where they keep KL's and SS's original facial bits?) (I kid, I know KL is super nice, but whenever I've waited on SS? FLAMING bitch.)

And because of that... (And for google purposes only, of course)

Mike Spontak. Mike Spontak. Mike Spontak. Mike Spontak.

I have no idea where you are right now, if you're still on the rugby guy circuit, taking care of your grandmother, or in the middle of Ipanema, BUT, if you somehow stumble across this, do me a favor and email, or comment here, and all will be revealed. For I? Was a dork when I left KW, and should have told you how I really felt. I should just ask Tioti, but I'm a dork like that.

3. Fresh Blueberry Streusel Muffins are cooling on my countertop. Want the recipe? Click the link, yo.

I also found a recipe for Shoo Fly Cupcakes, and I am intrigued. (For whatever reason I've been craving shoo fly pie lately, and should break down and bake my own vanilla pie, which is the same damn thing, but with light brown sugar, and a bit of corn syrup (i think) in place of some of the molasses. Oh, and it's 1,000 times better.) I digress.


Blogger Special Sauce said...

In amusing dreg news:

After listening to her bellow at the top. Of. Her. LUNGS. Directly outside my window, I screamed back to knock it the fuck off. (only slightly more politely) Her compromise? She screamed "sorry" and continued to bellow, but at the END of the driveway, instead of the middle of it.

Also, she angered dude du jour (the weed whacker) whose parting shot was classic. Her: "Well, what am I gonna do?" Him: "Well, why don't you call Corey, or Brian, or Travis, or any one of the other 25 guys you're fuckin', ya dumb ho!"

This statement would have been delivered well, had he been shouting it out a car window as he went screeching off (tires peeling out) in a blaze of fury. Instead, it was shouted as he stomped up the street to his mom's house.

I giggled for quite a while over this one. (And if they're going to conduct their business outside my window, at jet airplane levels, I'm going to listen in. It's difficult NOT to.)

11:13 PM  

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