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sex burgers…yummm

Dear vegetarians:

this particular blog is about MEAT and meat by-products, namely …  meat.  please refrain from reading this blog if hearing about meat or people consuming meat will cause you to lose points in your karma game, develop a rash, or spontaneously combust.

 

all others, proceed with caution.

last weekend i had a rather unique experience that, of course, i have to share.  because i’m so generous.  which my sister sometimes calls ‘chatty’, and my mother sometimes calls ‘annoying’.  i use generous, or occasionally ebullient. 

anyway, last weekend my sister – bodhi – celebrated another birthday of youthfulness.  we went antiquing for hours, and after finding no hidden treasures (except some old keys i wanted but didn’t purchase) we had worked up a pretty fierce appetite.  where to go on a special birthday weekend?

we headed to a restaurant we’ve never been to before; Red Robin.  (yummm)  (this is how the commercial goes, you know.  they say “Red Robin” and then follow it by a “yummm”)

who knew this place was so amazingly fabulous?  as soon as we came in we were seated…like, immediately!!!  and our hostess was so cute and friendly, and very sweet, we were sort of taken aback.  she was carrying a balloon for some reason, and i asked if bodhi could have one, for her birthday.  maybe it was the big pleading puppy eyes i gave her that did it.  maybe it was her sweet nature.  maybe it was the fact that bodhi was wearing a shirt that had a small stuffed Elmo in the pocket, and i was wearing butterfly wings on my head.  i don’t know, but soon the hostess came back with not one but TWO balloons for us.    Red Robin…Funnn

then came our waitress, who looked us over and said promptly “i love you”.  i don’t know if she’d had a hard day, or if she was just an emotional kind of person, but apparently our silliness factor – being high for a normal person, but very normal for silly people like us – had gotten to her, and we put a little bright spot in her day.  

she then brought us drinks and bottomless fries!   hello, did you hear me?  BOTTOMLESS FRIES!  who knew food could be so sexy?  or so scandalous?  i wonder if right wing Christians are offended by this brazen nod to partial nudity in the tuber community.  bothersome.  but tasty.  Red Robin…mmm

so then came our meals: for bodhi, the banzai burger (which she loved) and for me, the peppercorn burger.  let me just say this about the peppercorn burger:

it tasted like sex.

ok, i don’t know why.  i’ve never said that about anything food.  but i think at least three times during the meal i told bodhi it tasted like sex.  something about the grill flavor reminded me of summer time with men and their barbecues.  or maybe the steak sauce reminded me of saucy meat.  or maybe the little onion rings had garlic in them, which is an aphrodisiac.  i don’t know, but eating this burger was probably the most sensual dining experience i’ve ever had.  except maybe that time in Pittsburgh. 

add to that the adorable atmosphere, the upbeat and lively staff (who were ALL nice and fun, to the last person), and the fun food wrappers and containers!  crinkly paper on the burgers.  quirky drink cups. happy, motivational liners in the baskets.  no i’m not kidding.  listen to this:

GET FRESH! (see, very sexy)

LIVE IT UP

HAVE FUN

WILD COD (piece)

CHEW ON THIS

BOTTOMLESS IS WHERE THE YUMMM IS

SEEK THE BOTTOM

MUNCH

see?  even their french fry basket liners are hot!  this place can really work a girl up!  not to mention the men!!  so really, it wasn’t just the burger.  but god, oh god, oh, oh, oh god that burger tasted like sex.  thanks Red Robin, for getting me off…to the right meal.

Red Robin (makesyouwannahaveacigaretteyummm)

accidental happiness – cute beans

I got cute beans.

Back-story:  One of my cats – I have four – is ridiculously adorable.  I mean, they all are, of course.  One is neurotic, needy and affectionate.  One is shy, nervous and spends most of the day hiding from carpet lint.  One is adventurous, athletic and bossy.  And then there is Siris. 

            Siris is … well, adorable.  Soft little belly, big pouty eyes, dark markings on his mouth that make you wonder if he found some kitty-sized lipstick somewhere and is looking into cross-dressing.  He does have a shoe fetish.  We’ve never determined exactly what it is about this cat that makes him so adorable.  True, he is physically cuter than many a cat.  We frequently remind him that there are a score of dreadfully ugly felines out in the world because he stole all the cute.  He just says “meow”.  Is it his cute ‘fun-sized’ stature that makes him so adorable?  He’s never really sprouted into a cat size; still walks around sporting a kitten suit.  Is it this petite frame that makes him so endearing?  Or the fact that he snores when he’s asleep?  I mean, serious snoring, like your old favorite grandparent on the Lazy Boy Sunday afternoon.  Or could it be all the funny adventures Siris has gotten himself into, and we just automatically believe he is charming because of his hilarious past?  The burrito eating contest.  The spontaneous cast he made for his arm.  His random art projects.  Regardless of the reason, he is just freakishly delightful. 

            And he knows this.  In the ten years that we have had Siris, the only days he hasn’t been told he’s cute are days that we were off with family for the holidays; or traveling through Bellinzona, Italy; or landed in jail for indecent exposure in a public place.  Hey come on.  I thought there was something called Freedom of Religion?  Cult rites should be included in that, especially if they involve nudity, honey and shocked onlookers.  But back to the topic at hand; me.

            Reality is, no matter what the reason, this cat is damn cute.  It can’t be denied, ignored, or refuted.  And according to my sister, I’m cute too.

            It’s a frequent occurrence in my house, the mentioning of “cute”.  And it often is attached to me somehow.  Throughout the course of the day, I apparently do things that are funny, endearing, stupid, silly or bizarre.  I say things that are equally goofy, ridiculous or hilarious, and apparently these silly things create a feeling of affection on the end of others.  Or at least this is true with my sister because she is constantly saying how cute I am.  Forever now I’ve been responding back to this comment with “why?”  or “what did I do?”  I want to understand what thing I did that was weird or silly or particularly funny.  It’s not like I’ve done anything interesting or humorous in my eyes.  I’m just being me.  So what on earth is making her smile and shake her head?  What did I do?

            The other day – after mentioning my cuteness and appropriately being drilled as to the reason of said cuteness – my sister simply said “It’s just in your being”. 

            “My beans?”  I said, jokingly, an old family tradition of purposely mishearing someone’s comments. “I got cute beans?” 

            She smiled, shaking her head. 

            And finally it made sense to me.  I’m like my cat.  And now I no longer need to question the authority or accuracy of my sister’s statements.  Because some of us are just innately created to be wacky, weird, wonderful creatures that make others pick on you, laugh at you, and shake their head in wonder.  So why fight it?  Why question it?  I got cute beans.