My Kind Of Party

Just a warning – I’m going to discuss my dogs’ rather unusual diet in this post. Pinky swear you won’t remove me from your Google Reader Feedly? Thanks.

So. My dog’s Rather Unusual Diet is of the raw variety. As in, put down a towel and throw a raw chicken leg quarter in their direction and let them go at it, bones and all.

Actually, only Ernie eats on a towel. Dex refuses to eat this patently uncivilized diet in my decidedly civilized kitchen, so he eats outside in the yard. His choice, not mine. I am not complaining.

Sometimes it’s chicken, sometimes it’s venison. Sometimes it’s meaty meat, and sometimes it’s liver (gross) or kidneys (even grosser). This weekend, although he doesn’t know it yet, Dexter is getting a whole sheep’s head all to himself.

But I digress.

A byproduct of my dog’s diet is that I am constantly trolling for affordable meat. Craigslist has been wonderful – ┬áhunters looking to offload freezer burned venison haunches are my favorite. I do feel a little creepy contacting sellers about rabbits or goats. If you don’t know, there are two camps of rabbit and/or goat breeders and sellers; those who raise their animals for meat, and those who raise their animals for pets. If you accidentally send an email to a pet rabbit breeder inquiring about purchasing their “culls,” be prepared for a nasty reply.

When I can’t get anything else, I stock my freezer with 40 lb. cases of chicken leg quarters that I buy from a local restaurant supply outlet. These chicken legs – which I feed in between goat or duck or sheep head scores – come minimally processed and don’t contain any of the yummy/icky added flavorings you’ll find in most grocery store chicken.

Oh my gosh, I’m talking way too much about raw meat. BUT I CAN’T STOP NOW.

Sometimes I can’t get to the restaurant supply warehouse. Mainly because I am lazy, but also because they close at 6pm during the week and sometimes traffic works against me. So I find myself at the local Food Lion store where they sell 10 lb. bags of low-sodium chicken legs. They usually have boxes of Hot Tamales for $1, so most of the time my cart contains nothing but 40+ lbs. of raw chicken and a few boxes of chewy cinnamon candy.

I am convinced that the cashiers whisper as they see me coming.

Here comes that crazy chicken lady. All she ever buys are chicken and Hot Tamales, Hot Tamales and chicken. What the fuck kind of diet is she on?

Once I tried mentioning (with an airy, we’re-all-friends-here chuckle) that of course all this chicken wasn’t for my own consumption! It was for my dogs! But I’m pretty sure that made me seem even less like a woman who has her shit together.

But one time, about a year and a half ago, I realized that I needed a few additional items. I had recently started entertaining an overnight guest of the male variety, and needed to stock up on…party favors. And then I remembered that I needed to grab some batteries for my Wii remotes (what? We were newly dating and playing a lot of Wii bowling).

It was only as I was unloaded my cart onto the checkout belt that I fully realized the picture I was painting for the unlucky cashier.

40 pounds of raw chicken
4 boxes of Hot Tamales
Box of Ultra Sensitive Spermicide Lubed Trojan Condoms (18 count)
AA batteries (24 count)

Damn, girl. What kind of party are you throwing?

What would you name your cloned neanderthal baby?

Something amazing happened yesterday.

You may not believe me – do amazing things happen to 31 year old women? They certainly don’t happen in their backyard, unless that something is discovering a dinosaur fossil or giving birth to a cloned neanderthal baby.

Maybe I’ve played this up too much. What really happened yesterday is that I ate the first tomato from my garden.

It was delicious! But feel free to throw your old tomatoes at my head, as I know eating a tomato from your garden is hardly amazing, even if that tomato is yellow and delicious and you’ve known that tomato since it was a brave little un-pollinated flower.

But.

I’m pretty sure the 17-year-old Home Depot Garden Center employee who was tasked with watering the plant that yielded The Most Amazing And Delicious Yellow Tomato Ever shared a joint with my young, impressionable plant before I paid $3.88 for her and brought her home. I think this same employee rubbed psychedelic mushrooms on her tender leaflets and maybe even exposed her root buds to acid tablets.

Because I had the craziest dreams last night.

Like, chewing on gumballs while running the wrong way through a crowd during a 10k. But the gumballs turn into your teeth and the race is all uphill, and you’re running on your knees because you forgot your shoes and oh! you have no shirt on.

And you really have to get home because you can hear you sister’s parrot screaming (what? Your sister doesn’t have a parrot? DOESN’T MATTER) and if you don’t get home to feed it it’ll die. And how can you make your sister believe that you are sorry if you don’t even have a shirt on? Plus, your teeth are soggy, chewed-up gumballs and suddenly you’ve forgotten where your house is.

But really, that tomato was exceptionally delicious. Five stars. WOULD EAT AGAIN.