Turkey Day

The first tradition we have for Thanksgiving in our household is the annual "Turkey Dive" wherein we all go shopping for our turkey and all but climb into the turkey bins in search of the biggest bird we can find at that particular location. Anything less than 20 pounds is automatically tossed back. It's just bragging rights on the line if you are the one who finds the biggest bird, but the way my kids and I go at, you'd think there was money involved...

So this years Tom Turkey weighed in at 22.3 pounds- and I was the winner! Not that we needed a bird that big- we weren't having any company other than my friend ChaCha, but I wouldn't know how to cook anything smaller. I was again reminded of this fact as I finished making a vat of mashed potatoes that could feed an army and a boy band.

The more I thought about it, the more I realized I do this every year. Since I have been making Thanksgiving since I was 17, it's the only way I know how. Even when I had one child. I cook the same dishes with only a few changes (fresh green beans instead of moms canned ones, homemade cranberry relish instead of canned cranberry ala sauce, for example) and remember the stories behind who liked which best growing up. I still make gross yams because they were my sisters favorite, I have to have Lipton Onion soup mix French Onion Dip with Ruffles because it's what my mom let us snack on until it was time for dinner.

In short, I'm cooking for ghosts. I am cooking for the siblings who haven't shared this holiday with me in over 10 years, for my mom who is gone, for all the family I wish I had to share this day with and don't. It's my way. It's what I do. I won't cry about it, but I will cook the hell out of that 30 pound turkey I hope to find someday.

If you ever need a place to go for Turkey Day, please stop by. I always have more than enough- and you know I'm going to be sick of turkey reeeeal soon.

Dear Fat Cat, Sell-Out NASCAR Execs....

Dear NASCAR,

First of all, it is bulls%#* that I even have to write this letter. The fact that this bitch wasn't officially locked up weeks ago is ridiculous. How do you decide to just up and change the points system on a sport after 50 some odd YEARS? All the stats for the veterans, the founders of that sport, are under one system. How can you change the record books like this because people say they're bored? WTF? If an NFL team went undefeated and kicked every one's asses through a whole season AND the Super Bowl do you think they'd change the system?!?! GAH!

Under the true NASCAR points system, Jeff Gordon would not only have already hoisted his 5th cup, but locked this 6th one up 2 weeks ago!!! And as a Jeff Gordon endorser (and by that I mean #1 fan) I call BULLSHIT on NASCAR for this rewriting of records. For selling out to the friggin phone companies that are changing the name of the GD cup every year, (Yes, bitches, we went from Winston Cup to NEXTEL Cup to Sprint Cup next year) for not cherishing the history of this sport, for growing it into something it was never meant to be. You have turned your back on the fans, you have eliminated the heart and soul and you have negated the traditions that have made you the rich fat cat assholes you are.

It's been coming awhile- and taking Jeff's chance of tying Earnhardt's 7 Championships away was the last straw. If you're going to make the past and all it's stats null and void, why don't you go back and refigure all those years under your new rules to put us all on an even playing field? How many championships does Dale have then? Does Kulwicki never get that storied championship at all? Does Mark Martin have 4 or 5 trophies coming his way?

It is not our fault that Matt Kenseth bored the hell out of everyone and they tuned out for awhile. You know what, you should have told them to suck it. This is how it's always been. There are years guys are going to run away with it and years guys are going to have to go head to head, rubbin'-is-racing, fender knocking, slingshot maneuvering down to the last lap of the last race. but you didn't. You gave us all the finger, took away Rockingham and told us to deal with it while you ran off to catch a ride in your solid gold plane with diamond encrusted seats that would take you to your billion dollar houses where you dove into your pool of money...

I can only pray that Johnson chokes on Sunday and the rightful owner of this years Championship is crowned- despite you, not because of you.

Mobsters

So in the news today, I read that Salvatore Lo Piccolo, a Casa Nostra mob boss, was arrested outside of Palermo (Palermo!!!). During a raid of his home police uncovered a coded paper revealing the "Godfather's Ten Commandments"...

"Magistrates believe the elder Lo Piccolo, whose Mafia nickname is "the Baron," took over the reins of the crime organization after the arrest last year of former "boss of bosses" Bernardo Provenzano.
Interior Minister Giuliano Amato said the latest arrests, following that of Provenzano, showed the Italian state was able repeatedly to dismantle the leadership of the Sicilian Mafia."

Do paragraphs get any hotter than that??!

First of all, anything Italian (with the exception of my mothers disgusting, gross, asshole last husband) is sexy. Second, I know it's wrong, and no, I don't agree with all the murdering and whatnot, but seriously? Mobsters are sexy. I am fascinated by the whole thing. The American Mob scene in the 20s & 30s, Al Capone, the Valentine's Day Massacre, John Gotti, Tommy guns and speakeasies. I LOVE it. I have always been jealous that my friend, Kristin, who is Italian and has a very Italian last name, can say cool stuff like "You just don't fuck with someone who's last name ends in a vowel!"

I've never seen one episode of The Sopranos because I don't want big 'ol sweaty James Gandolfini ruining my perception of sexy, dark haired powerful Italian men in the mafia. Because I like to think that given the opportunity, I would totally be a mafia wife. Or mistress... But I digress.

The "Commandments" include barring mobsters from hanging out in bars, from befriending police and being late for appointments. It also bars them from "taking possession of money that belong to others or other families."

How to treat women also features in the Decalogue.

"You shall not look at wives of our friends," says one entry. "You shall respect your wife," says another. However, the Mafia comes first, as the fifth "commandment" orders a mobster to "be available for Cosa Nostra at any moment, even if your wife is about to give birth."

The last part of the list sets out application rules, saying that those who have a very bad behavior and no moral values cannot join.

See? Yes, they may be embezzling, murderous killers, but dammit they have morals and are loyal! And better than that, it's a guy whose ass is on-fucking-time for his appointments to whack someone! THAT is what I'm talking about!

2007 WORLD SERIES CHAMPIONS!

Because there just are no words to describe how proud...how happy...how ecstatic I am...

Two Down...Two to Go

We can do this the easy way or the hard way, Colorado...

Either way will pretty much suck for you.

We can kick your ass with our awesome ass ABs that will leave you crying from the top to the bottom of the order, (okay, except for Lugo...but whatever) or we can bring the big guns out from the bullpen. OR our outfield will catch everything your mom ever even thought of hitting and get out that way... Make no mistake- we're going to get you.

Sorry I can't seem to focus on anything else but baseball right now- as soon as my boys have the big shiny trophy, I'll be able to blog about something else. Until then, World Series Drama is what you get.

The BEST part of last nights Game Two was when Matt Holliday was up and belted one that knocked our boy Paps off the mound. He all but skipped his way to first base with that "Lallala, I'm a badass and got on against the Papelbomber." smug ass look on his face. Paps was fine, dusted himself off and promptly picked Holliday off by a mile at first base. Inning over- suck it, bitches.

I cried like a little girl when Curt tipped his cap to the crowd when leaving the hill. I adore the Schill. I am so upset that I wasn't around to see him years ago and can only hear the stories and see the old photos.

I would love to say that we'll see him in a Sox uniform next year, but chances are high we won't. Thank you for everything, #38.

Don't know what I'm going to do with myself on the off night tonight. Something fun to relieve some stress before Game 3, I hope. Because as sure as I have been since Spring Training that this is our year.... The waiting is the hardest part.

The Joy of Sox

Call me sex deprived... or sex obsessed, but I was thinking last night how watching these different baseball games are like different rounds of sex.

There are games where anticipation builds for nine innings...your muscles tense, you get sweaty waiting for the climax... and either you are rewarded with an explosive ninth inning or let down by a loss and leave feeling unfulfilled with so much pent up energy you don't know what to do with yourself.

There are games that blow wide open so hard and so fast in the beginning that the rest of the game is just playing for fun. Good parts over...let's just play some more just 'cause we can. Sox are up 10-1 in the 5th? Fahk... Let's just run the bases and laugh for another 4 innings. It's like teasing... Last night's Game One was just like that.

What about the games that are so evenly matched that it's down to the wire every inning? You score 2, we'll score 2... 2 more in the 5th? You think you've got it won? NO! They'll score 2 more in the 6th. You tense up and feel relief every inning just to go through it again, and again and again...hoping you are the last one to feel it and their fans are the ones going to bed with no happy ending.

Thank gawd I've got at least 3 more games before the bats get put up for the winter....

No One Ever Saw This Coming...

Few people in this world I've never met before bother me as much as Kid Rock or that Mystery guy from The Pick Up Artist. Perhaps Donald Trump, Ricky Martin, J-Lo, Pamela Anderson, maybe even Brittany...But Kid Rock holds a special prize for being able to piss me off just for breathing.

I can't stand how any one so talentless has so much friggin money. It makes me crazy to see him all stringy haired and butchering the English language and on TV... Or up on stage where people came to see him. Why, someone tell me, do people want see a white trash train wreck covered in sequins? Why?

So it is no surprise to me at all to open my Yahoo news and see Mr. Rock was arrested last night.

At a Waffle House.

Of course it was a Waffle House! Do you think he'd ever be arrested at the opera? The ballet? Maybe an art exhibition? How is this news to anyone? So he comes in, probably in no tshirt with a few big boobed airheads on each arm, someone starts talking shit and so our friend Kid has to get all, "I'm from Detroit and wish I was Eminem" on him, so a D-town type, hillbilly brawl ensues and everyone ends up covered in sticky syrup residue from rolling on the floor. You know someone went home with a waitress who thought she was the shit because she saw Kid Rock that night...

I've seen such brawls. My family is from both Detroit AND Tennessee. Not pretty I assure you. But on him, it works. I think next we should expect a brawl at a Piggly-Wiggly, a Winn Dixie or maybe even a Farmer Jacks. I'm sure next time there will be mud wrestling and horseshoes involved...