Tag Archives: Diet Coke

I’ve got my health… and not much else.

Perhaps I’m the stupidest person on earth. I think this because I seem to find freedom in bondage, pain in happiness, and liability in irresponsibility.

Who needs cash when you've got Tim Riggins?

I’ve been more cash-strapped than ever these last few weeks. It’s a combination of reckless spending on lunches and dinners I didn’t need coupled with ridiculous gas prices, increased food costs and the fact I haven’t had a raise in going on five years. (Viva journalism!) I was all sad and mopey about the fact that I’d have $40 to live on for two weeks until I made it through the first week spending barely anything. Just five more days to go. And I’ve got $35.

I’ve been working harder than ever, 12 to 14-hour days. And I’m looking for freelance gigs. And still, I smile on.

Turns out, I don’t need to eat lunch out every day. Turns out I have cabinets full of food, freezers full of treats and a condiment-stacked fridge containing all sorts of flavor-enhancing goodies. I think this is God’s way of telling me I need to take Lent more seriously. I gave up going out to eat for Lent, with the exception of one day a week. I haven’t honored that vow since Day 1. Lent unfortunately coincided with the craziest time of my career, when I got a new job that I’m still getting used to and the NCAA Tournament came to town. And the only consolation I received was a fast meal, usually from Taco Bueno.

Have I mentioned how glad I am to be somewhat back in the world of sports journalism? It feels like home.

But I’ve cooked dinner every night, brought my lunch to work and even taken my own cans of Diet Coke to the office. I’ve gotten lucky, too. For some reason, Netflix gave me a free month of service. I had a luncheon to go to and my friend Frances is helping me out by paying my way. I was able to buy the staples at the grocery store. I have plenty of pet food… as long as Leon doesn’t go on an eating binge.

Now if I could just find some trash bags… I might borrow some from my workplace. Or use paper bags from the store. Or just throw it on the ground, hobo-style. Canyou compost paper towels?

That’s another thing: I’ve got paper towels and toilet paper. I would spend my last dollar on making sure those things are stocked. I won’t live in an uncivilized world without paper towels. I am not a barbarian.

Really, all these decks I’ve stacked against myself came down, and I’m still in a great mood. I don’t have money, but I’ve got health (finally… I was sick for a week, hence the lack of Garish Chicken posts), I’ve got a computer I can surf and write with, and I’ve got friends who I adore.

And I’ve always got Netflix. I spent my sick week watching streaming episodes of “Friday Night Lights,” and kind of got strung out on that show. Tim Riggins, I want to marry you. Not the real person. Tim Riggins.

Oh, and I’ve got an account at the Press Club should I really, really need a cheeseburger or a beer. Come Friday, that may sound pretty good.

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Filed under Fun!, General Nonsense, Sports, TV

Five signs your dog is on crack cocaine

I came home today and realized that Leon, my blue heeler/lab-type dog is probably on drugs. How do I know this?

Leon Russell in the snow

Don't let that sweet-boy look fool you. He's doing crack cocaine, and you can't tell me otherwise.

He’s pretty subtle about it, but with my trained journalistic mind, I’ve got it figured out from these five telltale signs.

5. He doesn’t eat his food until the next day. I know that usage of crack cocaine makes people less hungry. I always fill his bowl up, then he stares at it for a minute and goes back to the couch. He eats it while I’m at work, or is possibly selling it for more crack.

4. He thinks the squirrels are after him. He demands to go chase the squirrels off of the back fence, fiendishly whimpering out the back door, then taking off like a shot to rid the yard of squirrels. Either the squirrels are with the DEA, or they’re selling bad shit. Or the paranoia is making him crazy.

3. He steals. I’m sure of it. I know for a FACT that Percy, my male tuxedo cat, has a meth lab in the garage, so why is it out of the realm of possibility that Leon steal money out of my purse? I never have any cash. Who else would do it? I know I didn’t spend it all on Diet Coke and Taco Bueno.

2. He’s moody. I get home from work, and he freaks the fuck out for like 10 minutes, licking and spinning, then retreats to his spot on the couch. I know I’m boring, but does the excitement wear off that quickly?

1. He needs to “go outside” at odd hours of the night. After I’ve taken my bedtime sleepy medicine (thank you, makers of Tylenol PM,) and my senses are dulled thanks to its liver-damaging powers, he immediately scampers to the back door, demanding to be let out. I know there aren’t squirrels out that late (unless they’re covert squirrels… curiouser and curiouser…) and even the mention of the phrase “go outside” makes him slobber a little. Pavlov’s dog, my ass. Pavlov’s crack addict is more like it.

I don’t know what to do about this. Do you think they “Dog Intervention” would be a good show for A&E? And if you take this idea and run for it, I’ll turn my crack-addled dog and meth-making cat on you.

Oh, the carnage. There will be blood.


Filed under General Nonsense, Pets

My hot and sour soup addiction (plus a recipe!)

My love for hot and sour soup knows no bounds. I’ve been a soup addict for many years now. All year long I eat soup. I don’t reserve it for days that are cold.
Bear Creek H&S

Bear Creek's Hot and Sour soup mix: Add a bunch of flavor, and it's an excellent soup base.

And I don’t believe in cold soups. I guess I’m not very seasonal when it comes to food. I remember telling my mom when I was in college that I was making beef stroganoff for dinner, and I think it was August. She said, “Oh, just a light summer supper, huh?” I laughed, and realized it was weird to make a heavy, sour-cream based dinner during the hottest part of the year.

I don’t think it really matters either way. Comfort food is necessary regardless of what time of year it is.

Sadly, I’ve grown tired of a my old soups. I’ve made Mexican soup and pasta e fagioli about 104 times this winter, mostly due to the fact that people keep giving me ham. They’ve been all, “Here, take this ham… we’ll never eat it all.” Like I will? I hope they think  I’ll make soup out of it, and maybe they want me to bring them the finished product. Yeah, it’s not because I’m pathetic and live alone and they’re worried that I’m eating Alpo, or that by supplying ham, my pets will eat that first instead of me if I drop dead and am not found immediately. It’s not that, surely.

Sorry for calling you Shirley. Back on topic.

I went to the Old Faithful soup well this weekend, and bought Bear Creek Hot and Sour Soup Mix. Two things I should own stock in, (haha stock, get it?) Diet Coke and Bear Creek Soup Mixes. I only buy one variety of Bear Creek Soup, and it’s hot and sour. And then I add a ton of stuff to it: not to mention these flat chow mein noodles that are  more addictive than anything Frito-Lay has ever produced. Anyway, click here for my recipe.

I’ll eat it every night until it’s gone, and that won’t take long because I eat giant man-size portions. It’s vegetarian and relatively low-calorie, just watch the oils and crunchy noodles.

I don’t mean to scare you, but you will become addicted. My family’s already held an intervention, but I failed.


Filed under Food