Long weekend in pictures, words

Ah, Memorial Day weekend. The phrase just brims with happiness, doesn't it?

Now, for the rundown.

On Friday night, Beau and I and four friends went to the Rockies/Cardinals game downtown. We got out of work early, so we sat at this bar for a couple of hours.

Nice view of the stadium and the back of my friend's head.

It was at this bar that we heard the saddest, dumbest douchebag pickup line of the day.
Drunken patron to waitress: How do you hide your wings under that jacket???
Gross.

We had good seats (I didn't really watch the game anyway, but it's nice to be close).

Yes, I know it's a picture of the outfield, but isn't the grass pretty?

Sitting in front of us were a couple I nicknamed the bracelet twins.
First, the woman. She put down a footlong with ALL of the fixins inside of a minute.
She's as dainty as this tattoo implies.

Her hubby, not to be outdone, was also braceleted.
Only, I'm not sure that those livestrong bracelets are supposed to be tight.

Cards won the game (we were rooting for them); fun was had by all.

On Saturday, I had The Best Burger on the Planet at the Best Burger Joint on the Planet.
Avocados, smoked cheddar, and Dijon, OH MY!

If you've never been, your life is not complete.

Then my family and I ventured down to a street fair in a beautiful old Denver neighborhood. Real estate is pricey, but the livin' is good. For everyone. :)

I'm pretty sure that compartment on the back is for treats.

When I got home that afternoon, it seemed that someone'd left the neighborhood in a hurry.

I'm sure as hell not pickin' 'em up!

While I was out and about on Saturday, Beau was out with friends. They went to The Buckhorn Exchange, where they enjoyed a meat festival of rattlesnake, buffalo testicles (I have yet to meet a woman who eats these; it's always the menfolk), and lord knows what else. He sent me this picture. You eat the meat while the head of the beast stares down at you.

Beau says that's a whale penis hanging above the bear. Everybody eat!

The rest of the weekend was full of bookstore visits (maybe a shoe store visit in the mix--can't go back there until the end of the summer), trying new recipes, and emergency doctor visits. None of which were particularly photoworthy.

Twas a good, well-rounded weekend.

Hope yours was too!

Is it just me, or...

Does the cap on Justin Beiber's new fragrance bottle look a little... um...
how shall I put this...  

LADYLIKE?

Love's special language

I told Beau that I was running across the street to Target and asked if he needed anything.

I need some cat food, he said.

Ok, wanna be a bit more specific?

Yeah, I need some dry food in the bag with the cat on it. 

Can you narrow it down a little more? Do you remember the brand? 

Nope. But the cat on the front is raising its paw. [At this point, he demonstrates the cat's pose.]

Ok, I'll see what I can find.

Scary postscript: I found the bag.

You know it's a bad relationship* when...

On his way out the door to hang out with the guys, he casually says this over his shoulder:

You're okay with the fact that it's gonna be coke and whores tonight, right? 

And he does not wait for the answer before he's gone.

*This is NOT a description of my current relationship. At all. Thankfully.

Fresh-baked evil

Yesterday was Beau's birthday. We'd already gone to see The Cars to celebrate, but I told him I'd come to his house after work and make him dinner on his actual birthday. (Luckily, he is easily pleased; spaghetti with meat sauce it is!)

I went to the store at lunch to buy what I needed for dinner. In the bakery, I couldn't resist buying this big yellow birthday cupcake. It's so cheerful. And it's a cupcake. And I can justify any cupcake purchase in a white-hot second. Duh.

At the checkout, the cashier admired the cupcake and I told her it was my beau's birthday.

Aw, that's sweet, she said. A cupcake for two.

And, in a moment of unnecessary honesty, I said Actually, he's diabetic. He can only have a bite or two. The rest is mine mine mine!

She, not knowing that Beau isn't really a cake/sweets person and he wouldn't care if he had a bite or not, stared at me, totally agape.

And she gave me a look that instantly let me know that she'd nicknamed me Cupcake Devil Girl.

Note to self: no more unnecessary honesty with strangers.

PS: Beau loved dinner, half-heartedly took two bites of cupcake, and I DID eat every bit of the rest of it! Nom! Nom! Nom!

Things I like that nobody else seems to like, Vol. 1

Marshmallow Peeps.

Neon-colored sugary goodness. Soft, but with a little granulated crunch when you bite down (which is the same thing I love about my toothpaste, but I digress).

A lot of folks see these and are immediately nauseated. And those folks are wrong, wrong, wrong.

I'm a Peeps purist. I'm not down with the Christmas-tree shaped ones or any other holiday Peeps. Easter is the only time I partake (can you year that? That's my teeth and intestines thanking me).

Yesterday, I was in Rite Aid, picking up a prescription. I saw the last of the Easter Peeps on sale. I grabbed a box and took them to the counter.

These are only 19 cents, the pharmacist told me. Looks like you really do get what you pay for!

Whatever, haters. Peeps are the shit and you know it! :)

Photo Credit: ME!!

Worst commercial on TV right now

They got robbed. But somehow, they're upset that the thieves didn't want their computer (you know, the one with all of their tax files, personal information, and wedding pictures on it).

So they go to Staples to get a new computer (onto which they transfer all of their tax files, personal information, and wedding pictures), and satisfy themselves with the notion that thieves will definitely want to steal this! 

Whuck? 

The really irritating thing about this is that an insane number marketing people and client representatives thought this was a good idea and signed off on it.

Complete bullshit.

Sad boys at Target

I made a run to Target after work last night so that I could start making something more interesting than toast for dinner.

As I wandered the grocery section looking for inspiration, I came across two young men who were, to put it delicately, high school misfits (no judgments; I was a misfit too--still am). They were reeeeally awkward.

I ran into them again when they hit the beer section, where I heard one of the saddest exchanges I've heard in awhile (all said without a trace of irony or sarcasm):

Here's the most important aisle. The boooooooze!


Oh look! They have Busch!


Yeah, that shit is coooooool!

Sad, sad, sad.

And the saddest part? When I saw them again and looked into their cart, I saw that they had opted for a four-pack of wine coolers.

Not even cool enough for Busch beer.

Bless their little hearts.

I repeat

Everyone I know is totally obsessed with vodka right now.

Two remarkable things about zombie movies

Beau and I watched Dawn of the Dead last night and we realized two things.

1. (I give Beau complete credit for this; it's genius.) People in zombie movies never know what zombies are. The movies are set in modern times, but these folks have lived a completely zombieless existence. They've never seen a zombie movie (not even Serpent and the Rainbow) or seen a zombie comic book. Folks in vampire movies know what vampires are. Folks in alien movies know what aliens are. Folks in zombie flicks are utterly ignorant about their situation.
2. Zombie survivors are an eclectic bunch. Third-grade teachers, TV repairmen, nurses, grandmothers, IT specialists, nurses, etc. Most of these professions/lifestyles are pretty low-key. And yet, put a gun in their hands for the first time and every single one of them is a crackerjack shot. They can shoot a zombie--not just through the head, but through the EYE--at 30 yards. Granted, it's a slow-moving target, but it's a moving target all the same. They never miss. Put me in that situation and I guarantee that I'll waste five bullets and score with the sixth only because the thing shambled up to within a foot of me.