<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8055756</id><updated>2011-04-21T19:09:50.487-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fresh and Crispy</title><subtitle type='html'>"It is only because of grains and starches that fatty congestion can occur, as much in man as in the animals..." - Brillat-Savarin, &lt;I&gt;The Physiology of Taste&lt;/I&gt;</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://freshandcrispy.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8055756/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://freshandcrispy.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>PornQueen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08576568936217942941</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>7</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8055756.post-109392797949950161</id><published>2004-08-30T19:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-08-31T17:10:17.970-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pool Party or How to burn out your viewer's retinas</title><content type='html'>My eyes! I'm being assaulted by orange - bright orange cantaloupes! Argh! A bikini top under a, what is that? A tube top dress? The ultimate in tacky-tacky. "Pool parties are the best of all", but Snadra, what about all your other parties? What about them, you swore those were the best too! I guess when you have a brain the size of a pea you don't retain much about which party really is the best, much like you don't retain the correct way to&lt;em&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/i&gt; make your own recipes. But I'm getting ahead of myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Everbody is relaxed, laid back and ready for a cold cocktail" Ya know, I have been to plenty of parties that didn't serve a drop of alcohol and had a perfectly wonderful time. Why must she assume that everybody wants booze at every party she throws? "Some quick and easy sssssemi-homemade dishes", I swear, she slurred over semi-homemade, I think she's been drinking already. Lots of her words are coming out sounding slushy. "Salmon-avocado pate". Wait, now it's pate? Hold on a second....according to WordNet, "pate n 1: liver or meat or fowl finely minced or ground and variously seasoned 2: the top of the head". Well, that is certainly neither of those things. I do think she's been drinking!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now, into the kitchen. As predicted, the sacred KA is Tangerine, in keeping with the theme color of blistering apricot, bittersweet, coral, peach, red-yellow, salmon, tangerine, titian, take your pick. I guess I 'll stick with orange, although I like the thesaurus match of "titian". What are those in the windowsill, oranges, nectarines? Who decorates with fruit like that? I buy the fruit, I eat the fruit. Valance, vases, plates, tea towels, platters. And here she comes, with her big, stupid matching hat in one hand and a bottle of, well, we'll just assume it booze.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We are going to start with a cocktail because I am parched". She hasn't done anything yet, how can she be parched? Oh, I guess that bottle isn't booze after all, it's "fancy" pink lemonade. With her, you just have to assume a big bottle like that is gonna be booze. Apparently, it's her "secret that she normally doesn't give away". Why? What makes pink lemonade so special? Oh, I see, we're going to make our cocktail in a plastic pitcher, thank god, cause we wouldn't want glass pitcher's near the pool with the kiddies running around and all. "Peach Party Punch, which will be just perfect for the pool. Say that three times fast!" Oh, she's just so quick and witty, isn't she? Eew, she's advocating the use of "peach puree" instead of peach juice, I personally, don't want my drink to have that kind of texture. She must have a hard time shopping at the No Name/No Label Mart, maybe that's really mango juice, who could tell? "Peach Schnapps, which I can never say right", sounded right to me. She must be thinking of trying to say it after she's had a few pitchers of her punch. "And then some rum", again, with the sideways glance at the camera with the look of wheee! and emphasis on the word "rum". According to Snadra, "rum makes everything taste great together", hmmmm, I kind of doubt that statement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Now you can't drink to much of this out by the (pause) pool", so you might want to take extra peach juice with you, what? I swear, she had to force the word pool out, like she momentarily forgot what the show was about. And is she saying, don't drink to much alcohol, keep yourself hydrated with something that doesn't contain alcohol? I think that's what she means, but she's not real clear about it. Maybe she means, don't get to drunk by the deep water? Or does having an extra bottle of peach juice act like some sort of voodoo gris-gris to ward off the demon rum?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Pink lemonade adds a twist of flavor that nobody expects!" Should you really sneak your flavors on your unsuspecting guests though? Is that a nice thing to do? You always have to sneak a little something on them, don't you dear?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"For a refreshing salad", so now it's a salad? Before it was a pate, the FN page calls it a "tier". I'm so confused. Ummm, smoked salmon is already cooked! Technically, it's smoked (hence the name) but "cooked" for all intents and purposes. "All we're going to do to make this smoked salmon", uh, no, someone already did that part for you, and besides, I'm sure that would be a whole 'nother show. " Cut one way, and then cut the other, cause what you are doing is creating little chunks of salmon", actually, I think that is called "dicing", not "chunking". Oh look, the distinctive bottle of Girard's Champagne dressing, missing label be damned, I know that's what it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(And then my wife walked into the room, heading downstairs with a load of laundry and said: You are adorable. (paused and looked at the screen) That is about the sluttiest thing I've ever seen her wear. It doesn't quite go with her curtains though. (sniff) What are you baking that smells so decadent? Me: It's granola!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wait, is that an orange frosted angelfood cake I see on the counter behind her? Oh wait, not, it's her stupid hat. But I wouldn't have been surprised to spot an orange-frosted angelfood on the table with the salad/tier/pate and everything else. My god, she's actually giving out accurate information about the salmon (yes, it is a good source of good fats, aka Omega-3's). But is salmon really "refreshing"? Tasty yes, refreshing, not so much (especially after she gets done with it). Hey, she's washing (rinsing) her hands! Sexy head tilt for the camera. I think she has to much blush on today, and it's a bad color for her too. It doesn't blend in naturally, you can see exactly where the makeup brush went.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vinagrrr-ette. I hate her pronunciation of certain words, gaw-jus, straw-burrry, melk. If that salmon and dressing is only going to sit to the side for a minute, can that really be considered "marinating"? Okay, so the fully cooked salmon, that is going to eventually be paired with the avocados, has tainted the cutting board? It's like she sort of watched some other cooking shows, and sort of retained some information, but she's reguritating it incorrectly. And yet, in past episodes, she's touched her "raw meaty hands" all over the place, but today is worried about the cooked salmon infiltrating the raw avocados.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've never heard that avocados should be "soft on the top, a little bit squishy, firm on the bottom". Huh, well, you are the "expert" there Snadra. I'm impressed she didn't miss the pit and take off a couple of fingers with her knife. Cut it into wedges, and then peel it? Squeeze lemon over the top of the slices, but then cut them into dice? I swear, she's adding extra steps in here (like the pears and cans). Stop looking up at the camera! You're gonna lose a finger, cause your knife skills aren't that good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you make the pate/salad/tier bigger, it can become dinner! She's still calling it a "salad". Uh oh, trick alert! "A very smart trick, which you may or may not have seen before", well if she thinks viewer's may have seen it before, then it's not a "trick", it's an accepted practice, you twit. Oh, she's rinsing her hands again, a banner day! More sexy looks at the camera from the sink. "I love my biscuit cutter!", I'm sorry, let me just pause for a second and go to the bad place, for some reason that line just came out all kinds of wrong to me. Ok, I'm better now. Having flipped through her "cookbook" (a term I use very loosely) she advocates the use of canned biscuits to make biscuits &amp; gravy (the concept makes my southern blood boil), so why in the holy hell would she even own a biscuit cutter? My mother, a fine woman from southern Tennessee, makes biscuits at least 3-4 times a week and doesn't even own a biscuit cutter, she uses a juice glass! And Snadra's, is a big ass biscuit cutter, more like hamburger bun sized biscuits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wasabi cream? Umm, that would be wasabi mixed with either sour cream or heavy cream I think (Google confirms this). What she has, according to the label is: Hot! Wasabi Squeeze. She implies that if you mix wasabi powder and water, "you get the same thing for nothing". Not quite. First, you should always purchase your wasabi powder (otherwise it's stealing) and you forgot to include the "cream" element dear, so no, it's not " the same thing for nothing". Make sure you don't use "to much", oooops, she just screwed up then, cause my god, that is a lot of wasabi! "Because it is very rich and spicy", again, spicy yes, rich, not so much. Oh, more secrets! Hidden crushed croutons. Okay, why not just use bread crumbs then? And yeah, those croutons were really crushed well, 90% of the ones that fell out of the bag were still whole. How you gonna hide those? According to the recipe online, you layer the salmon, croutons and avocado, not mix the croutons into the salmon. This is suppose to be her recipe, and yet, she can't remember how to do it correctly! If she created it, you'd think she'd do it right. Oh yes, see how small those croutons are? I think if I had dropped the bag on the floor, they might have been crushed more than what she's using. Now, it's become a "tower" (pate/salad/tier). "Viola!" said all sing song. Ew, just ew, that looks nasty. I don't think there's enough moisture in the salmon to soften up those whole croutons and there's enough wasabi on the avocado's to kill a horse. "I want to work with my avocados, cause it's in season, I want to enjoy it as much as I can" which is why you totally covered the flavor in wasabi cream. Good lord! More wasabi drizzled over it all. (The most little girl, didn't I make something special voice ever, so very twee) "Doesn't this look professional?" No, it looks horrible, you needy creature you. Hmmm, Milli Vanilli's "salads" are decorated with chives and sesame seeds (as we go to commercial). I know she had the chives on the cutting board, how did she forget them, what with wanting it to look "professional" and all. Oh yeah, she had to get back to her cocktail, that's why.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, online it calls for "tortillas", which are not the same as tortilla chips. Warm the chips, warm the beans! Normally, when I have nachos, everything is heated through, where is she getting her nachos where this is a problem (oh yes, that Mexican restaurant she loved that closed down, remember that, way back in a previous episode? That's probably why they closed down!) Yet again, I must yell at the tv, it's not "juice"! Read the label, I bet it says: "beans, water, salt, citric acid", no where does it say "bean juice". Oh, she's back to using the sink as a garbage can again. If you are going to drain them, you should at least rinse them, but maybe that's just me. I'm impressed she didn't call the marinade, "artichoke juice". Maybe it's just me, but I don't want anything "unexpected" in my nachos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again, I think she's been watching other cooking shows, and saw someone cut a bell pepper this way, and assumed it would work for a tomato too! No, that is the must goofy, wasteful way to cut a tomato (dangerous too). Listen, she says to "cut off the ends" but she's actually cutting the sides! "We'll just cut these with our knife" as opposed to what, our microwave? Our mixer, our orange dishcloth? Green onions, your go to veggie for "garnish, for beauty, for taste", ask for green onions by name! That's not "spreading" dear, that's more like peppering, or sprinkling the beans. I'm sorry, but those artichoke quarters are bigger than the chips themselves, that's gonna hold up real well. She's kind of skimpy on the cheese too. Two layers? That will definitely insure that the lower level will be soggy and cold by the time you get to it. Stephanie and Danielle are used to hiding in the pool when Auntie Sandra show up with food, I think. Who knew that cheese "melts up", not me. Hmmm, she's picking up the platter and going back to the oven, without a potholder. Which means that the chips on the bottom, aren't hot anymore, so that was a step totally wasted there in the begining.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My deli does not have fresh fruit cut up, but my produce section does (and I can tell you that a fruit platter like that will set you back 20 bucks, I know, I've recently priced them for a work function). She really is skewering watermelon chunks. Yes, no one else has a grill pan like your's Snadra! She's even Vanna-ing the ridges! So, by her admission, we just want them to look like they've been on the grill, but not taste like it? And yes, again with the admonishing to soak the skewers. I seriously doubt the grill pan on the incandescent stove is going to get hot enough to set them ablaze. And after the commercial, a "secret sauce" just for me? Really? Me, and me alone?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The natives are getting restless", okay, if the kids are at her sister's, how does she know this? They aren't running around in her backyard. And those nachos, will be stone cold by the time she gets them over there. Whoot! as she closes the oven door with her butt. Why do you want your nachos to cool? Weren't we just talking about heating the beans and chips and all that, and now you want them to sit there and cool? This circular logic is beyond me. Oh, "secret sauce" time. One can of peach juice to what is that, 2, maybe 3 cups of sugar? And a "little" water? Love these precise measurements. So she's making a simple syrup with a hint of peach flavor, and this is the big secret? Oh, the secret is to let it reduce, but don't tell me how long that should take. Whoot! for the kebabs. Whoot! again. It appears as if the watermelon has shrunk down (hmm, I wonder why). Yes, "the kids are going to go crazy" from the sugar high of fruits and sorbet and sugar syrup.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those are not Vanilla Wafers! Nilla wafers are round! Those are sugar wafers, which are crispy layers of cookie and a sugary paste, which are cut into rectangles. Two totally different things. "Make sure to open them up", as opposed to just slapping the package on the plate and scooping the sorbet on that? It's when she tells me to do such obvious things that she really irritates me. According to Snadra, a sugar wafer will magically become "cake" when placed under sorbet! Oh, time for another "trick"! Yeah, the warm-water-ice-cream-scoop trick is about 100 years old. Wait, now the cookies/wafers/cake have turned into "crackers", it must be the magical power of that sorbet! Okay, so you want the frozen sorbet to melt to soften the crackers/cookies/wafers/cake? Me, I like my sorbet to stay in a semi-frozen state when I enjoy it, not a puddle to soften "crackers". Ew, the consistency of that syrup looks like honey, no, excuse me, she said maple syrup. Oh, my teeth hurt just looking at that. Wait, now she wants you to make sure your syrup isn't hot so it won't melt your sorbet, but she just said, oh never mind, that drunken circular logic again, got it. Peach sorbet is not tart! And doesn't need syrup!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today she hasn't made any foodgasms for her creations. Let see, she sampled the cocktail (natch!) but not the salad/pate. She didn't sample the nachos, but she did stuff down a spoonful of magical sorbet, but it did not induces groans of delight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, tips time! A fishbowl for a punchbowl? That's glass and I don't see a ladle, so yeah, that's just dangerous to have around the kiddies at the pool. Besides, I am going to have to build a second garage to put all my pool party accessories in with my wine barrels and Buddha (she's faux!). Yes, goldfish crackers need a stir stick. The tails of the swedish fish hanging over the side of the ice cube tray, look vaguely disturbing. Bottled water does not freeze any better than tap water, don't believe her! But it freezes better when you actually get it into the tray. Do the kiddies really want frozen fish in their drinks? I guess it's just another sugar delivery system for Auntie Sandra. Ick, they look like bloody ice cubes! "You can go to the store and buy punch or sports drinks", really, who knew you could buy these things? Thanks for telling me! Yes, the kiddies should stay hydrated, especially when they are eating nothing but salty and sugary foods. Hey, where did the ice cubes in the fishbowl go? Look, they disappeared completely!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hey, she's leaving without taking her punch pitcher or nachos! Lord, even the kids swimsuits match the decor, that is so sad. But why is sister Kimmie in all white then? I think Snadra was cooking barefoot, she has no foot wear on as she strolls to her sister. Trying to emulate a better show perhaps? Snadra, you are no Contessa. A poolscape. Now I need a wading pool to add to the collection in the garage, plus floaties, snorkels. And everything thing will have to be in one color, "for the dramatic effect". Citronella candles, perfect for bugs and young boys birthday cakes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, I refuse to "Keep it smart (ha!), keep it with your sister (I only have brothers)". Okay, that final look as she leans in toward her sister, kinda creepy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whew.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8055756-109392797949950161?l=freshandcrispy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://freshandcrispy.blogspot.com/feeds/109392797949950161/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8055756&amp;postID=109392797949950161' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8055756/posts/default/109392797949950161'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8055756/posts/default/109392797949950161'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://freshandcrispy.blogspot.com/2004/08/pool-party-or-how-to-burn-out-your.html' title='Pool Party or How to burn out your viewer&apos;s retinas'/><author><name>PornQueen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08576568936217942941</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8055756.post-109366862141343284</id><published>2004-08-27T21:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-08-27T21:52:01.276-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Great timing!</title><content type='html'>So yesterday I explained in detail my journey from respectable Insurance Salesperson to Purveyor of Porn. Come home today, check the mail. Low and behold, there's an envelope containing papers regarding a class action law suit against my former employer, the Supplemental Health Insurance Company (think Afflac but without the duck). To funny that I bring that up, cause I really hadn't thought about it in a few years and now I find out they have not one but several class action lawsuits regarding Sexual Harassment and Sexual Discrimination. So, yeah, karma is smiling on me. Apparently I am eligible for at least a $500 settlement and possibly more (based on amount of claimants).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must state for the record that I was never sexually harassed by anyone during my time with this company. Did I feel sexually discriminated against? To some degree yes, I think I kind of was. Let's face it, insurance in general, is a male dominated field. If I remember correctly, there were maybe 2 other women in my whole state besides myself at that time, working for this company (I'm not counting the secretary at the boss' offices). Do I feel that I was pressured to go places I might not normally by myself? Yes. Do I feel that it was unfair that I had to drive to the offices and my boss couldn't ever meet me half way? Yes. Can this be considered discrimination? Possibly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say, I'm just laughing over here about this whole situation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and on the Crohn's front, my new drugs make my nose run. It's very irritating. I wake up feeling fine, take the drugs with breakfast and by about 11am, my nose starts running like a faucet. It's even running down the back of my throat so I end up with an irritated throat by the end of the day. By about 7pm it's finally quit, but I get to go through this yet again tomorrow, and the day after that. Plus it makes me kind of nauseous about mid afternoon for about an hour. So yeah, real fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I discovered that they have a pill(s) you can take to induce the same reaction (i.e. poop your brains out till you can whistle through both ends your so clean) as the GoLytely. I am so demanding the pills next time! I can not stomach another jug of this stuff, I just can't. The thought is making me throw up a little in my mouth, literally. Now I just have to wait till Tuesday so I can call and see what the results of my biopsy's are! Whee!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This weekend I'm going to be doing some home canning. I plan on putting up several quarts of salsa (spicy!) and then I'm going to experiment with making (hopefully!) a low carb granola. My brain thinks it knows what should work, but whether the ingredients will cooperate and render an edible result remains to be seen. I'll certainly post the results, good or bad. The salsa, that I already know will be good, it's the granola I'm not so sure about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd love to see Sandra Lee attempt to can a product. But, I'm fairly certain that's out of her realm of experience, I mean, the woman makes marinara sauce from a powder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8055756-109366862141343284?l=freshandcrispy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://freshandcrispy.blogspot.com/feeds/109366862141343284/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8055756&amp;postID=109366862141343284' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8055756/posts/default/109366862141343284'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8055756/posts/default/109366862141343284'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://freshandcrispy.blogspot.com/2004/08/great-timing.html' title='Great timing!'/><author><name>PornQueen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08576568936217942941</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8055756.post-109358703512086476</id><published>2004-08-26T21:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-08-26T23:40:46.136-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Birth of the Queen (warning, mature content)</title><content type='html'>So, way back in 1998 I started selling insurance. I'd been working for a telemarketing company selling automobile insurance (think Progressive without the advertising blitz) and then I quit and started selling supplemental health insurance (think Afflac, but without the cute duck). The stinky company (without the duck) lied to me when they offered me the job, saying "Oh we need agents in your town, so yeah, this will be great for you" except the company's offices for the state were in Lincoln (I'm in Omaha). This means to see my boss, I had to drive 60 miles. Both ways. In the snow. Up hills. Everyday. That's a tank of gas a day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh yeah, and in the period of time when I held this job, I never once sold in my town (I was the only agent for the whole town, and let's see, there is ummm, about 390,000 people [per the 2000 census])! Hello? Yeah, the only people I sold in this town were friends and family and former co-workers. I did however, get to journey all over my state, to smaller towns, to sell new people and make contact with current policy holders (a frequent comment from these policy holders, "Oh, you're new, last time it was a guy", what does this tell you about the non-duck company's lack of retaining workers?) Yeah, I got to drive to the far end of the state to McCook (pop 7,994, a 5 hour drive away), Kearney (pop 27,431, a 3 hour drive) and Laurel (pop 986, a 2 and a half hour drive) amongst other places I visited. I had to pay for my own hotel rooms, and gas. And was going to be getting paid for the policies I retained and new policies I sold. I got really fed up when they sent me to, christ, I don't even remember, somewhere up north, a couple hours away and I had a really bad cold. In the summer, and you know how those always suck. I crashed out in the hotel room and said fuck it, I'm not doing anything today. My boss, on one of the random times he would come out with us (they might send a dozen agents into town to cover it in a week) got mad at me. I was like, dude, I feel like crap, I don't feel like sneezing on people I don't know and I'm having to drive all over hell's half acre (it is Nebraska and this was the heart of farm country, so lots of not on the map county roads). I said I'm going home this week, to bad for you. The next week, the call was to go to Lincoln, it was time to tackle the big city. Now, although Lincoln is the states capital, I myself had not spent much time in it. I had no clue where anything was (it was actually easier to find someone's farm than an apartment in a big city). Knowing I was going to be driving back and forth everyday for the next 2 weeks, putting 20 bucks in the car every day (hmm, quick math, 5 days x 20 = 100, x 2 = $200 bucks for gas, let's just say, my paycheck was not going to cover this). I snapped. I lost it. I drove home (heh, I mailed all my work materials back to them about a month later). But then, wait, I need a job and I need it quick. What to do and where to go?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, my friend Missy works at the "Adult Emporium" across the river in Council Bluffs. Hmmm, hey Miss, can you get me a job? Sure, come on down, I'll vouch for you. And yeah, having an "in" at the store did help me get hired ASAP, just like I wanted. I started working about 3 weeks before 9/11. That was a weird day, talking politics with a regular. Anyways...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started working the day shift, 7am to 3pm. This place is open 365 days a year, 24 hours a day, all porn, all the time. Fortunately for me (or so I've been told) the store had recently decided to remodel and remove the video viewing booths. Yes, that's exactly what you think it is. Pay to rent a video and do what you to do but really should do in the privacy of your own home and can actually be arrested for doing if they catch you. Don't ask me why this is the policy. Why have whack rooms and tell them they can't whack. Yes, spend 90 mins watching 'Extreme Anal' and then crawl to your car and go home to finish the job? I don't think so. But luckily, they had done away with these bout 2 weeks before I got hired, so whew, I didn't have to deal with that aspect of the job (Missy says it was really no big deal, and the girls didn't have to mop up, they have a janitor for that, a really sweet old guy, been working there like 12 years). Rumor has it, the owner of the company (Goalie Entertainment), whom I never met, started in that capacity, and now makes millions. So yeah, there's money to be had in being a jiz mopper I guess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, so I started and wow, you just can't believe the videos that are produced (and I've seen the catalog for the things that by law we couldn't carry at that location, but other states could. Wow, mind altering!). And the toys, oh my god, the toys. Excuse me, the "adult novelties". Who knew you needed these things? Not me. Now it's true that I'm a lesbian, so I know from "alternative lifestyles" but my god, we never had any of these things. Ok, so we had a vibe a friend bought us for a gag Christmas present (true story: the cats thought it was fascinating if you turned it on and layed it on it's side on the glass topped coffee table, it's spins like a propeller!). But yeah, vibes of all kinds and sizes. Butt toys. Masturbating devices for men. Blow up love dolls. Cock rings. Lubes. Glow in the dark condoms. We had just about everything, excepting those things we couldn't sell by law (in Iowa, that would be, ummmm, bondage gear, hand cuffs, mags/videos showing bondage, pooping and peeing - ick). But yeah, a lot of stuff to go through.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started out working behind the counter, just selling products and renting videos. Our location had oh, somewhere in the neighborhood of, umm (20 foot long shelves, 12 shelves top to bottom, holding about 300 videos a shelf, carry the 3, add the...) yeah, between 4000-5000 videos on hand at any given time. That's videos, not DVD's. Everything for sale, about 75% for rent. DVD's were just starting to come in good at this time (2001) and we kept them in big books, that probably held about 250 disks and there were probably about 6 books, so about 1500 DVD's. All for your viewing pleasure. You could rent up to 6 at a time. And we had regulars that would, every day! There is a whole room full of nothing but the video/DVD boxes. A whole room. All arranged by category or company (Wicked, Vivid, Extreme, all girl, all black, all amateur, etc). A big part of the job consists of putting the videos back on the shelf after they come back in from rentals. If you want to rent, you bring up the box, we pull the video, we hold the box(s) with your membership card (membership is free, all you need is a valid driver's license and a major credit card for id!) until you bring them back. And there is no drop box, you have to bring them up to the counter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, you have to check id's for every person that walks in the door. Doesn't matter if Grandma is 97 and using a walker and oxygen tank, if she doesn't have a valid id, she doesn't get to stay in the store. No one under 18 admitted, at anytime. You have to always, always, always be on top of this, cause if the police come through and catch someone under 18 or without a valid id, that's it. You are out of a job and possibly could be prosecuted in court. In the whole time I was there, it never happened. But there had been problems in the past, so better safe then sorry. So, the eternal refrain of "ID's at the counter, I need to see your ID, no, I mean it, I need to see it" was constantly going on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We also had to put new products out, and there was a shipment of something, toys, videos, lube every day. Some days more than others, but always something. I eventually worked my way up to Night Manager, so I ended up being in charge of making sure that stuff got checked in and put out. I also had to track lost videos. Go through the membership list and update that. Change the surveillance videos. Oh yes, there are camera's every where. Everywhere. Don't think that they won't catch you stealing something, or whacking in the back video room, we had monitors to watch that (yeah, I would always send one of the guys back to stop things happening like that, cause I know how to delegate, but it didn't happen very often). And camera's on the workers too. The check out counter is almost the entire length of the building, had to have room for all those videos ya know. There was the main rental wall of shelves, plus free standing shelving units holding video's separated by other categories (Classics, Special Promotions, Gay, For Sale only). But yeah, cameras on every register (there are 4) and on the safe. Have you ever had to work somewhere with a time safe, the kind you buy money out of? Ya know, you need a roll of quarters, so you drop a 10 and get a roll from the safe? Well, we had one of those, and there were 4 cameras pointed at that thing. You even had to channel your inner Las Vegas dealer when you would drop money into it; get the slip, fill it out (making a deposit, getting change) fill out the book, hold up the envelope for the camera to see, drop it in, do a little hand wave (nothing up my sleeve) so they would know you weren't stealing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah yes, the money. You can not conceive how much a place like this takes in on a daily basis. It's amazing. The day crew and overnight, they have a decent haul, but the mid shift, 3-midnight, that's where the bulk of the money is made everyday, especially Friday and Saturday nights. It was not unusual for the first register to frequently make drops of 300-500 bucks every couple of hours. You can get in trouble if your drop is more than $300 a pop, so you may end up doing 3 drops in a 10 minute span of time. Oh, and you have to have a coworker count your deposit, in front of the cameras always, and note the amount in the log book. Since I had sold insurance (remember that?) I came to the job bonded, so they were very happy to have me, since I was much less likely than they usual punks they had working there, to swipe some for myself. And I never did, though lord knows, I could see ways that I could get away from the every present cameras. There are a few holes in the system. A good night would see anywhere from $2-5000 dollars for the first register, $500-2500 for the second, and at least $1000 from the last 2 registers. Usually pulling down at least $10,000 a night, including credit card purchase's. Plus what the day/overnight pulled in, oh, probably about $15,000-20,000 a day. A day people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I worked my way up from shlub to Night Manager. Cause, well I was about 10 years older than the average workers, and trust worthy, and always on time, etc. I got to be in charge of creating Wall Displays (yes, ways to display vibes to better catch the consumers eye). Making suggestions for products we should order. I got to sample some of the stock. I took my job very seriously, I kid you not. I looked for information on lubes and condoms, so that I could give out accurate information to my customers. Well, we are selling products here, more people than not would say "What do you recommend for a first time user?" And I could confidently say, well, what are you looking for? Or, we seem to sell a lot of this brand. Or this brand is shoddy, don't buy it. Things like that. So here are my tips for you, should you ever going shopping for toys. Videos, mags, that's a personal preference, but I can give informed info on toys and lubes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Everything is overpriced. The mark up on these products is astronomical. Start out with something kind of mid priced. The cheap ones, well they're cheap and prone to breaking. But don't dump 100 bucks on a vibe. Trust me, it sounds great in the package, but when you get it home, you may discover you actually hate it (or more than likely, it's um, well, too big, if you catch my drift, ladies).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Try a vibrating egg first. They are generally cheaper and much more versatile than a vibe. They can be enjoyed by men and women both. They don't take a lot of batteries, so they are economical. If you like these, you can usually find "attachments" to extend the use of the egg.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. If you are prone to yeast infections, do not use lubes that contain glycerin, sweeteners, or flavorings. This may be fun at the time, but they will come back to haunt you. If you feel the need to experiment, get a few of the sample sized pillow packs. A bottle of lube will set you back at least 5 bucks and upwards of 20. Don't get stuck with a lot of stuff you can't use. Spend a couple of bucks on samples and see what you like. You can always come back and get the big bottle later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. The best lubricants are Astroglide, Wet Platinum, O'My and Eros, in my opinion. They don't tend to get sticky and are compatible with condoms. Hint: It's cheaper to purchase Astroglide at Walmart than at a sex toy store. They even have a store brand that's cheaper still!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Body Butter tastes nasty. Don't buy it. Same for the Chocolate Body Paint.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Edible panties are made from fruit roll-ups. I'm not kidding, it's the same stuff as fruit leather is made from, and they almost always end up having only banana flavor anyway. Save yourself the money and make your own fruit g-string at home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Kama Sutra brand products are nice, but very, very expensive for what you get. You are paying for the name, not necessarily the contents. Again, do yourself a favor, get a bottle of baby oil and make your own kit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Prepackaged kits, also overpriced. They are a lot like prepackaged Easter baskets, not a whole lot in there when you get it home and unwrap it. Make your own with pillow pack sample lubes and a small toy or too. Get yourself some erotic dice (roll the dice and follow the instructions that come up, like, "lick nipple" "kiss lips"), they are cheap and fun, and portable too!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. If you purchase something like Anal Eze, remember that it has a numbing agent in it. Hint: guys, if you still want to feel what's happening if you use this on your partner, wear a condom. If it numbs the butt, it will numb your dick too. It's common sense, but many people seem to forget it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and finally,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Ask the person working behind the counter to show you the product. We always had to put batteries in the toys to show that they worked before we sold them. You can not return these items to the store (eeew, but some people would try it). Ask them to put that $100 vibe through it's paces, you're going to be dumping some serious money if you pick out that model, you want to make sure it's going to perform they way you expect (okay, you can't really "test" it in the store, but you can get a really good idea about how it's gonna act). Ask them what they most popular items are. What do they sell a lot of? Do they have any personal preferences? Come on, if you work in a sex toy store, you have to have a pretty darn open mind, don't you think? The clerks generally are willing to answer your questions and steer you in the right direction, so ask!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And one last hint. The tip of your nose has as many nerve endings at the head of your penis or your clitoris. If you get the clerk to run a vibe for you, touch it to the tip of your nose. If it makes you feel like you want to sneeze, chances are very, very good that it will get your motor running down below as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Any questions about why they call me the PornQueen now?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8055756-109358703512086476?l=freshandcrispy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://freshandcrispy.blogspot.com/feeds/109358703512086476/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8055756&amp;postID=109358703512086476' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8055756/posts/default/109358703512086476'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8055756/posts/default/109358703512086476'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://freshandcrispy.blogspot.com/2004/08/birth-of-queen-warning-mature-content.html' title='Birth of the Queen (warning, mature content)'/><author><name>PornQueen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08576568936217942941</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8055756.post-109356665746018387</id><published>2004-08-26T17:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-08-26T17:30:57.460-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Originally.....</title><content type='html'>My blog was going to be devoted to low carbing, my loathing of Sandra Lee (of Semi-Homemade fame) and just general tidbits about me, life in the Midwest and my dogs and cats.  Somehow, so far, it's ended up being about my Crohn's Disease.  Well, I suppose that's okay too.  I really should get it all out there where everyone should see it, if they really want too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now, I think I shall sit back, and form a plan of action.  Maybe post once a day about each of the 3 subjects?  Or just go with the flow and see what happens?  I think I will do that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh yeah, and I'll have to take time to explain the &lt;i&gt;Nom de Plume&lt;/i&gt;, cause well, yeah, &lt;b&gt;PornQueen&lt;/b&gt;, it's a little bit different.  Coming up after dinner, the origin of a name.  Right now, I'm off to puree some cauliflower and baste a turkey breast.  No SLop on my table!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8055756-109356665746018387?l=freshandcrispy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://freshandcrispy.blogspot.com/feeds/109356665746018387/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8055756&amp;postID=109356665746018387' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8055756/posts/default/109356665746018387'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8055756/posts/default/109356665746018387'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://freshandcrispy.blogspot.com/2004/08/originally.html' title='Originally.....'/><author><name>PornQueen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08576568936217942941</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8055756.post-109348659360951105</id><published>2004-08-25T18:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-08-25T19:16:33.610-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Post scoping....</title><content type='html'>So, got up yesterday and headed off for the scope. Not only do I feel horrible because I haven't eaten anything in more than 24 hours, my guts are still rolling from the GoLytely I took the night before and well, it's early and I didn't sleep well (who would?). Drop off my sis-in-house at her job and head to the hospital. Got there early, cause I hate being late. My appointment was at 9:30, but we were there by 9, so after one last cigarette, we head in to find the Endoscopy department. I tell the nice lady behind the counter my name, and bam, there's a nurse saying, Come on back! I tell my wife, well, see you in a few hours and follow the nice nurse named Tonya.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's the nice room where you can shuck your clothes and lock them up in case random people want to wander back here and steal my shoes I guess. I choose locker #8, I don't know why. I'm allowed to keep on my bra and socks, but I didn't wear any socks. Oh well, then darn it, I'm keeping my bra! One gown backward, one gown forward, which is nice to hide the butt flappy part, but I think what a pain it's going to be to pull it out from underneath me once things get going, but I guess that's none of my concern. Oooo, I love the warmed blankets, how do they do that? Do they have a giant microwave for nuking blanky's so they are all cozy for you when you hop up on the gurney? That is about the only nice thing happening right now. And then we start with the paperwork.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somehow, I don't know how they did it, they have 2 different dates of birth for me, same month and day, but the year is off by a factor of ten. I know I have grey hair but how the heck did we go from 1970 back to 1960? So I say, no, it's 1970 and she puts the correct wristband on me. Oh, and here's the consent form and here's the privacy policy and would you like to be part of our research (can we show pictures of your insides to other doctors for teaching/learning purposes?), etc. Sure, show my guts off, I don't care. And then lie back and wait. And wait some more. Listen to the doctor on the other side of the curtain talk to the little old lady in the next bed, apparently she's been bleeding and they have decided to admit her for some transfusions. She sounds sweet and upset, so does her husband. I feel bad for her. And then Liz, a very nice nurse comes to get me set up for my IV.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate needles, I hate pain, I hate the fact that needles give pain. This is my least favorite part of the experience. And well, I'm fat, so I have really crappy, hard to find veins. Oh, and I haven't had anything to drink to plump up my deeply buried veins, so this always goes well. Not. She starts fondling my hand and I'm thinking, No, not there, anywhere but there. Everytime I have had to have a needle shoved into some part of my hand, it's really, really hurt. And I hate it. But she's gonna try it anyway, so all I can do is look the other way and grip the side of the gurney with my other hand and try not to cry, yell or curse. Stab! Ow! Sorry, honey. Wiggle wiggle. Ow, ow, ow....Sorry, it's in but I don't have a good return, you have really thick skin here. Gosh, thanks, ow, ow, ow. No, I'm gonna try somewhere else, that's just not gonna work. How bout the bend of my elbow, where normal people stick needles I think? So she heads up there, swab swab with the alcohol. Stab! Ow! Hold still, wiggle wiggle. No, I'm not getting a good return here either. Tears rolling from my eyes. Prod, prod, oh, here's a good one (about an inch from where she's working currently), I'm gonna try this one, I'm sorry honey. S'okay I say. Grit my teeth and one more time, Stab! Ok, we're in! Thank god I think to myself as she straps down the port or whatever they call it. She says, I don't like going in there cause if you bend your arm you could lose it, but that's about the only place that looks like it's going to work. Since I hate needle's and IV's, I have this intense paranoia about moving my arm now that it's in, cause no, I don't want to lose it and have to start all over again, so I lay there with my arm stick straight and not moving. And I wait.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I listen to the nurses compare notes about the previous night's Olympics (which guy should have one the high bar or something, I didn't watch it, being busy in the bathroom and all). And wait, and hear the debate of who's getting done first, me or someone else. I guess I won, cause they were waiting for an H&amp;H (whatever that is) for the other person. So they come to wheel me off, down the hall, around corners, through doors. It's all very confusing and I have no idea exactly where I ended up, watching the ceiling wiz by while I'm on my back. And we're in the operating/endoscoping(?) room. Hi nice nurses, hello young man doctor I've never seen before. Where is my doctor I want to know? Dr. Young, I've only met her once, but she isn't one of the people in there with me. Oh here she comes, hi, how's it going? Okay I guess. Ok, so we're going to give you some medicine to make you kind of sleepy, and then we're going to run a scope down your throat. Ok, I've never had this one before, the butt one, I'm good on that one. We do this to little old ladies all the time, you just have to remember that you can breathe, cause we will be in your food tube not your air tube, so don't worry, try not to gag and drool all you want. Okay. Can you roll over on your left side? Sure, still freaky about the stiff right arm and the IV. My head is way down, below my shoulders, boy is this going to be comfy I think. Oh wait, let me fix your pillow, oh much better, propped up like normal people. Lift your head. Okay. We're going to put this in your mouth to hold the scope so you don't bite down on it. Alrighty then, as they wrap the yellow rubber looking band around my neck, with the green anti-pacifier thing in the middle of it. It looks like a pacifier with out the sucky part, just a hole where that would be and presumably where the scope will fit. Nice you man Doctor starts injecting my IV with Vicodin. Vicodin in at 10:02. And then, I'm gone. Poof!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At some point, I sort of come too and half open my eyes and can see the monitor in front of me, probably about 4 feet away. But, they have taken my glasses and well, hell, I'm really doped up so I can't exactly focus on the screen. I'm quasi-aware that there's a tube in my throat and I kind of moan, and they say, It's okay, just relax, everything is fine. And I kind of think, okay....and drift away again. The next time I come back around, they are doing things on the other end. I don't know how to describe the feeling of something snaking up your colon, but it pretty much feels exactly like you think it would. Not painful, but definitely not pleasant either. I think I moaned again and got the, You're doing great! response, I don't really remember. But I do remember them saying, okay, we're done, and pulling out the scope (and that does feel exactly like you think it would) and someone wiping my butt. How pleasant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They must have rolled me back over and drove me back to recovery (which I found out was about 10 feet from where I originally started) and gone to get my spouse (or as they referred to her, "my friend"). The next time I open my eyes, she's sitting on my left side holding my hand and stroking it and watching me. I'm not such a great conversationalist right now. I go back out. And then the doctor is there and she's explaining what they did and found and telling my wife to remember this, cause I won't (it's true, I asked my wife 3 times afterwards what she said, so no, I didn't retain any of it).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the answers are. Well, the area of your stomach near the opening to your small intestines (duodenum) is red and inflamed. And then we snaked into your duodenum and there are ulcers in there. Not good. So we took biopsy's there. We don't know if those are just normal ulcers or Crohn's ulcers. Okay. And then we went up your butt. And we could only go as far as your resection and we didn't want to perforate you so we stopped there. Cause that area, is swollen and not so good looking, so we took biopsy's there too. Call us in a week for the answers to the biopsy's and we set up an appointment for you on Sept 10, and we want you to take this medicine in the mean time. Entocort. It's kind of like Prednisone, but without the horrible side effects. We want to reduce the swelling in your colon area. What this really means is, take this drug for 6-8 weeks and then we go back in! Oh joy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back story. I started feeling crappy in 1996 and went to the doctor to see if they could figure out what was wrong. Hmmm, you're really anemic, here, take some iron pills, come back in a month. Iron is very constipating, in case you didn't know. I spent the most miserable month of my life. So, after a month, hey, you're still anemic! In fact, you're worse than you were before (on a scale of 1-10, most people are around a 7, and I was down to like a 2, they say most people have a hard time if they go below 4, so heck, I must just be very strong or something)! Hmmm, let's do some tests, I think you're bleeding internally. Long story short (ha!) and a upper GI series CAT scan with dye contrast, a barium enema and a horribly botched attempt at a colonoscopy later, we determine I have Crohn's Disease. A really sucky disease of the intestinal tract, known for the crampy, bloaty, bloody diarrhea and general blah feeling that goes with it. So I forge ahead, I take the medicine they prescribe, the steroids that make my face fat and round and kill my taste for food (I only ate Lipton cup of soup and corn puffs, and nothing else for months!) And then, I start really going down hill. I had a bladder infection that wouldn't go away. Have you ever had a Urinary Tract infection that lasted 6 weeks? It was hell. I knew things were bad the day I peed, yes, peed a sunflower seed. Yeah, not good. My intestines were trying to eat themselves alive and anything that was in their path, namely my bladder (see you get a UTI that won't go away, no matter how many antibiotics you take, where there is a hole between your bladder and your colon). Finally, they had to operate on me. They removed 10 inches of my small intestine and 4 inches of my large intestine. It weighed 5 pounds. And closed the hole in my bladder. And then, I started to feel better. I still lost my job, cause well, it's really hard to make your numbers when you are in the hospital for a month.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, yeah, so the resection, that would be where they joined to 2 ends back together from the surgery. And now, they are so swollen, they can't scope the thing through. No wonder I generally feel kind of eh. So, here we go again I'm thinking. I wonder how long it will be before I have to have another surgery? How much will they take this time? Medical science, makes leaps and bounds, and can replace your heart, you liver, your kidneys and rebuild your knees, but your stomach and intestines? Nope, you only have the set you came with to work with, and when that's gone, you're toast. Or have to wear a bag on your waist and take your nutrition through a pic line in your chest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But me, I'm gonna look on the positive side and hope for the best. I guess I will find out when it happens where this will end up this time around.  And I'm gonna keep on my bra as long as they say I can! Ha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8055756-109348659360951105?l=freshandcrispy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://freshandcrispy.blogspot.com/feeds/109348659360951105/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8055756&amp;postID=109348659360951105' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8055756/posts/default/109348659360951105'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8055756/posts/default/109348659360951105'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://freshandcrispy.blogspot.com/2004/08/post-scoping.html' title='Post scoping....'/><author><name>PornQueen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08576568936217942941</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8055756.post-109331944271160425</id><published>2004-08-23T20:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-08-23T20:50:42.710-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Today's recipe! Brining Chicken Wings</title><content type='html'>For the brine: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1 bottle Fruit2O, lemon flavor&lt;br /&gt;couple tbls soy sauce&lt;br /&gt;dried onion flakes&lt;br /&gt;chopped garlic&lt;br /&gt;lemon pepper seasoning&lt;br /&gt;black pepper&lt;br /&gt;salt&lt;br /&gt;couple shakes of Tabasco&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just eyeball this.  Put the chicken wings, about a dozen, split into drums and flats into a ziploc bag.  Pour in the Lemon water, add the seasonings.  Zip to close.  Shake well.  Pop in a bowl (in case it leaks) and set in fridge for about hour.  Drain off brine and continue with chosen cooking process.  I tend to coat and bake mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brining makes the chicken juicier, more tender and it just has a better flavor all around.  It doesn't take much time or effort, and the Fruit2O already has the sweetner dissolved into it, so you can add just about anything.  I have found that the options listed above work pretty good.  Like garlic a lot?  Add more.  Omit the onion if you don't like it.  Leave out the lemon pepper, substitute it for something else.  You really can't leave out the soy though, that's pretty important for the salt.  I wouldn't leave wings in this longer than 2 hours.  You can certainly increase the amount and brine larger things, like that turkey breast I have thawing in the fridge, it's getting this treatment come Wednesday night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8055756-109331944271160425?l=freshandcrispy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://freshandcrispy.blogspot.com/feeds/109331944271160425/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8055756&amp;postID=109331944271160425' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8055756/posts/default/109331944271160425'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8055756/posts/default/109331944271160425'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://freshandcrispy.blogspot.com/2004/08/todays-recipe-brining-chicken-wings.html' title='Today&apos;s recipe! Brining Chicken Wings'/><author><name>PornQueen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08576568936217942941</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8055756.post-109331803991558756</id><published>2004-08-23T20:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-08-23T20:27:19.916-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Blog the first</title><content type='html'>Today I prepare for a colonoscopy and an endoscopy. Which means tomorrow morning, I will (hopefully) be knocked silly by really good drugs and be probed from both ends. The prep for such an event, is not pretty,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, don't eat anything during the day. That means, breakfast consists of a Tropicana (tm)  Some Pulp Orange Juice and a Diet Dew. Lunch with your spouse is a cup of coffee, no cream! And a glass of ice tea, with lemon. Eyeball her cottage cheese and mentally smack yourself. Then cave in on the way back to work and pick up some Jell-o (tm) snack packs, lime and orange. Consume 4 snack packs in 10 minutes (give the orange one's to your mom). Sigh. Listen to your stomach complain, tell it it doesn't know how good it has it right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Come home from work and proceed to work with food, knowing full well that you can't have any of it. Proceed to take the tips off of 7 lbs. of chicken wings, freeze this for future broth makings. Split wings into drummets and flats and then pop them into a bag for a quick brining. You're already ahead of the game, cause you made up a big batch of wing coating the night before, go you! Let the wings sit for an hour in the brine and watch some Olympics (synchronized swimmers). Melt butter, coat wings and put in the oven. And now the really fun part begins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Start to consume, as quickly as possible the most disgusting, foul, nasty tasting water you have ever had. The cute medical name for this hideous drink? GoLytely. Yeah, I am not amused, and I bet Holly wouldn't be either. Suck this back as fast as you can, gasp for breath between gulps. Quickly suck on a Lifesaver to kill the taste. Repeat, ad nauseum, literally. Bleargh. I am not one to gag in general, but this stuff makes me start making noises that even the cats look at me funny for. And then my wife looks at me all sad and says that she would drink this for me if she could. But hey, she promised to do the "Poop Clear Cheer" for me later on, so wheee! I got that working for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now my guts are roiling, and the house smells like tasty chicken wings and I can't have any. I can't have anything other than another tasty, lip smacking glass of GoLytely (yum!) and a mint. And a cigarette. Can I say that my mouth tastes so, so very nasty? It does. So not letting my wife kiss me anytime soon. Churn, bubble, the insides do not like this concoction that has been forced on them, and quite frankly, neither do I. This sucks. There's just no way around how sucky this is. And this isn't the first time I've had to do it either. In fact, I think this is my 3rd, or 4th time. I've been lucky and not had to go under the scope since my surgery in 1997, so, cross fingers, everything will look good tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm waiting for my body to stop doing what it's doing so I can take a shower. The hospital always wants you to be clean when you show up, even if you can't use deodorant (I don't understand it either). I guess it's in case they perforate me somewhere and have to wheel me off to surgery, they don't want me going in a "smelling like a fresh breeze" or something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the event takes place, I've been admonished that I must have a responsible driver there, because I will NOT BE ALLOWED TO DRIVE. I also shouldn't smoke by myself or plan on signing any legal documents tomorrow, while I'm under the influence of these drugs. Fun fun. I can only assume I will go home with both my kidney's intact.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The extra fun part of it all? It's a brand new doctor. One I have only seen once before, and that was just a "hi, I hear you're really good with Crohn's Disease and I happen to have that and I didn't like my old doc to much so how bout we form a search party and go investigate my colon, okay?" Always fun to start a new relationship off naked in a butt flapping gown with someone you hardly knows finger up your butt. Sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hopefully, all goes well and I can sleep through it all and stumble after my spouse and finally get something to eat. But not before the "Poop Clear Cheer!".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8055756-109331803991558756?l=freshandcrispy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://freshandcrispy.blogspot.com/feeds/109331803991558756/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8055756&amp;postID=109331803991558756' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8055756/posts/default/109331803991558756'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8055756/posts/default/109331803991558756'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://freshandcrispy.blogspot.com/2004/08/blog-first.html' title='Blog the first'/><author><name>PornQueen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08576568936217942941</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
