King Cake

King Cake from stephanie edwards on Vimeo.
Steph spends over 5 minutes saying absolutely nothing about anything. And she make some controversial statements about her opinion of whether or not Gambino's King Cake is a "touristy" thing a la Chicago Deep Dish pizza. These statements are completely unfounded. The video ends, oddly enough, with an appearance by the Zulu Ninja (or Zinja) and Steph's incredulous face in response to Carla's story of her pet crawfish.

For Big Bob

Paint a Perfect Picture

iron forged with steel is no stronger than the man
who selflessly, instinctively
gave me everything.
"I remember when
you fit in my palm"
Well, can you try please, please
dad to shower me with hugs, kisses,
gifts

What have you left to give
when was it taken
from the attack on your heart
in '71 or '76
or the loss of livelihood
or is it we who have taken the dreams
the desires

A tan, blond kid of 17
living in the sunland
Golden Boy, smell of oranges,
who could fly
Do you understand I have nothing to give you?
I don't remember how to try

but look...
I am small now
I have decreased
I can fit once again
in you palm.

I Suspect That Mia Still Doesn't Know How To Use 3-Way

In honor of Mia and Nancy's birthdays in June that I did not recognize, I would like to pull out this dusty from the DJ Steady collection c. 2000.

Click here for the goodness:
Mia and Nancy Learn 3-Way

(An editorial note: I had probably called Mia 8-9 times, each time leaving a message with her housekeeper who did not speak English.)

I really meant it when I said "mea culpa"

A private note on a public blog:

  

I really dropped the ball on my blog.  Yes, I know.  You can see that I forgot Becca... and Nancy... and Julie... and Mary.... and Mia! and the list goes on and on... it has been a tough year.  Maybe a little too much of the actual DTCMIM40's.  But I thank you all.  Without you I'm nothing. Or at least not as much.  Well, maybe I'm something.  Anyway, this introspection is killing me.  I need to disco dance.

Besides, I never finish anyth 

Steady

       

The Most Important Thing on the Bride's Contract Rider?

Jack on hand.

Yes my sweet, little friend Yolanda drinks Jack. Mr. Daniels if your nasty.

And while I've not been able to touch the stuff following that unfortunate incident in 1990 involving a 3 Wise Men shot, some sorority hazing, and forced removal from a bar... I do (have? will?) love me some whiskey... just not the bourbon. But I will certainly make an exception. And a Jack and Coke, neat, shall be the drink of the first half of November. I think it is a drink we can all get behind... and under. Given Yolander's current condition (that ironically followed her vacation on the big, gay cruise) I may have to have one more for her. Holy insurance risks, Batman! Lord help us all.

To my honorary 'bo...

I have forgotten to dedicate a cocktail to my beloved

She informed me that I, in fact, forgot to name a drink of the month in her honor. I am a very, very bad girlfriend.

But, of course, she knows as I do... it is a Rum Runner.
1 1/2 ounces Rum (White)
1/4 ounce Banana Liqueur
1/4 ounce Blackberry Brandy
1/2 teaspoon Grenadine
5 ounces Sweet & Sour Mix
Shake with ice and strain into a cocktail glass.

My first Rum Runner was bought for me by an old friend of Becca's named Kelly while we were visiting Cape Cod. We were enjoying a lovely evening sitting on lawnchairs at a marina outside a restaurant called the Chart Rum (I mean Room). Kelly decided that I needed to have a drop-in in my drink... aka a floater aka as a full shot of 151 Rum.

Needless to say... the Rum Runner will most definitely NOT be the drink to carry me into my 40's as it was the drink that nearly ended my life at 37.

Seamus McTaxi?

My Square