Friday, March 20, 2009

The First Hit's Always Free

Trader Joe's sample lady must have learned all she knows from a crack dealer ... the first hit is always free. She placed a tiny piece of fish stick into Dill and Jalepeno Tarter sauce and put them in a little paper medicine cup. "here's your medicine"

I'm having Trader Joe's fish sticks with Dill and Jalepeno Tarter sauce for lunch because my restaurant review theme is $10 and under. And while a nice, pleasant shit-together woman might do just fine with that, I require a hellavalota food. I have the appetite of a 17-year old boy (very different from an appetite for a 17-year old boy) so sometimes after I do a restaurant review, I have to come home and eat. In private.

I avoid trying anything I cannot have a lot of. I'm not interested in having a "taste" of anything. It's all or nothing with me. Window shopping: Can't do it. Why would I spend my day looking at things I cannot have? It's like going to model homes and then winding up at your own crappy house at the end of the day. It's never like: "Whew, I'm glad I'm finally out of that well organized, clean, matching decor, house and back into my rabbit cage I call home!"

I think my theory of "the first hit's always free" is a good reason why handsome firefighters should wear horrible Rodney Dangerfield masks and coat themselves with the most repelling fragrance for a woman: Baby throw-up. You know why? Because, you can't just have a firefighter whenever you want to. They show up at the grocery store or your house all nice and helpful in their cute "outfits" with all their "appliances" and then, just when you get used to having them around, bam, they're off on another life saving mission.

I'm just telling you all this for one reason: Stop visually cannibalizing my husband! He's MY firefighter. Go get your own. Do you know what I had to go through to land him? I had to act nice for like a year and a half. Ya ya, I know he deserves better and you're probably better than me, but too bad. I've put a lot of meals into this guy ... and other things ... so he's mine.

Go eat a fish stick instead.


  1. Am I having a brain fart? I didn't know you have a strapping fireman for a husband.


    Tell me he runs around the house with his uniform partially on (pervs! I only mean without the jacket part) and a tight t-shirt!! Tell me!


    Sorry 'bout that ... I'll go eat a fish stick.

  2. Okay, I pull up my blogger dashboard and what do I see at the top of Updates. A bare naked ass and a fireman. Count me in. I did not know you had ensnared a fireman. I won't get too inappropriate here. I dated a fireman for a bit. mmmmm. I'll just go eat a fish stick with Akilah.

  3. Wow, Sharon, it looks like you've really been working out -- can you tell us your secret buttocks exercises?
    Love the model home scenario!

  4. Queen Blogger, I have an award for you over on my little blog.

  5. OK Psycho! And I call you that out of love, because you are one of the few (at least in my imagination) who know what a fucking psycho I am! I was not quite sure where you were going with the blog, but it was great. And I am a litle afraid of what else you put into your poor handsome strapping hunk-o-fireman husband besides food. Don't you have that ass backwards - so to speak - on who puts what into whom?
    BTW, ladies of the blog, he is FINE and drops the kids off at school in his fireman hardhat and suspenders, just to watch the mommies swoon...we have so little in our lives that early in the morning - it's fanstastic! We often drop things right infront of them so that he will have to bend at the waist to pick them up for us. Oh, the silly little games we play:)


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