Tag - humor

Kim makes Sweet Tea. Sweet Tea wins.
Guest blog
Happy Monday!

Kim makes Sweet Tea. Sweet Tea wins.

It all started innocently enough. I was lurking on gmailswap.com with a few gmail invites ripe for the giving. A poster on the message board was willing to swap a recipe for sweet tea for a gmail invite.

I liked the swap. Firstly, it was something useable, unlike those stupid Orkut invites (where the blogsnobs live…you know…the ones who do nothing but blog about blogging day in and day out?). Secondly, I have a spouse from the South — land of Sweet Tea (though I call it iced tea) — and I’d like to be able to make some once in a while, you know?

So I respond to the gentleman, he sends me the recipe, and I send him a gmail invite.

It’s a hot, sunny Saturday. Thor decides he’s going to mow the lawn. Nice! I decide to make some sweet tea for him! And so it begins.

Printed recipe in hand, I head to the kitchen. Start some water boiling, then start unwrapping the Lipton tea bags. Carefully, I place the 29 tea bags (funny…I could have sworn I opened 30 bags) into the boiling water, leaving the tags hanging over the edge of the pot. For easy removal of the bags, right?

Wrong. Instead, a tag hits the electric burner eye and ignites. The other 28 tags also catch fire. The flames of HELL shoot up about 8 inches high. With great alarm, I take the pot by the handle, take it to the sink, and run cold water over the flames. Fire extinguished.
I return the pot to the stove, making sure that tags are nowhere near the eye. Unfortunately, my hands were shaking from the trauma, and I sloshed tea all over the cabinets.
And the stove.
Undeterred, I finish the recipe and pour the results into a kicky plastic pitcher that I bought at Target. The WD-40 makes Sweet Tea go down easier*.
End result: Thor loved it. I have about an hour of cleaning ahead of me. And as for tea bag 30…let’s just say that Max found it for me. (sigh)

*This is a joke. I do not put WD-40 into sweet tea. Nor should you, OK?

Guest blog

Dear Kim,

It’s me…your Pampered Chef Pizza Stone. I’m writing on behalf of all of your cook and bakeware that you packed away weeks ago in preparation for your impending move. Which is two weeks from today, by the way.

You THOUGHT that you’d be getting ahead by packing so early, didn’t you? You THOUGHT you were uber and smiled smugly as you taped the lid. You wielded your bubble wrap and packing tape like a real champ.

Well, fat-ass, as the song goes, “Who’s Sorry Now?” Remember the sinking feeling you had when you tried to look for a baking sheet to heat up your Margaritaville Calypso Coconut Shrimp for Survivor? We had a good laugh at that one.

Enterprising girl that you are, you thought that you’d merely improvise and make a cookie sheet out of a few layers of aluminum foil. Except…it’s here with me.

In the box.

At the bottom of the stack.

So now you’ve resorted to eating caramel and chocolate coated apples from the candy store around the corner, convincing yourself that you’re eating real fruit. And muttering publicly that you’d be having salads if you didn’t pack away your stuff.

The last time I checked, Blondie, (if that is what your current state can be called) you don’t need a cooling rack to make a salad. Just FYI.

See you in two weeks, sucker.

Pizza Stone.

Happy Monday!

The bitter cold air has moved into my mid-Atlantic abode. Drizzly on the drive to work this morning. And it’s Monday, which adds a pallor of dreariness anyway.

This morning I found a tag sewn into my Ann Taylor skirt that I bought in August in Hollywood. It said, “Remove before washing or wearing.” I cut it out this morning, and it contains one of those magnetic inventory tracking devices! Yes, they TELL you to cut the tag out but it’s hidden deep down into the skirt so it’s hard to see. Of course, I’ve worn/washed the darn skirt multiple times by now. Could you imagine the report that Ann Taylor has on me now?

Skirt purchased in late August, 2003. Flew to New Jersey, where skirt remained within original plastic bag for a few weeks. Skirt worn by a generously-assed woman on an approximate biweekly basis to a mostly sedentary job. Foreign substance (appears to be a chai latte) spilled onto skirt in late October. Skirt laundered in washing machine despite “dry clean only” tag. Skirt is often on floor, perhaps in a laundry basket. In a highly suspicious incident, skirt was abducted by a small, fanged animal and dragged violently through a small living space. Skirt rescued by raving, half-naked lunatic and sustained no damage.

Mood: Subdued. Still anxious about the job, because there are SOOOOO many things I don’t know about. But the only way I’ll learn is by throwing myself into them.

Work docket: Still working on my two marketing contests. I’m PRETTY SURE I have some more month-end reports due today. What I’ve been doing is making a photocopy of every report I do and every greenbar that I see and putting them into a binder with my own handwritten explanation of how, when, and why I do these tasks. Hopefully someday I won’t even have to look at the binder. Ingle’s still on vacation, so no updating his column. (Actually, we’re going to automate that soon). And maybe I’ll get that job description written today!

Lunch: Will grab a BK Veggie (they’re pretty good!) and a salad.

Afternoon: Must make bank deposit. Take Max for rousing walk.

Evening: I’m going to the gym. (waits for hysterical laughter to subside) Really!!!!

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