Sunday, 5 January 2014

Walk On The Wild Side


Yes, Comrades

A really good singer once famously sang that it is imperative that you get down on Friday, and that's generally exactly what I live to do. By this, I mean we spent some time pretty much counting how many shoes we had on.

Then it was to pick up Sheba and head for their work to pick up their cheques. Somewhat predictably, it was to the bank next. Then, to Wal Mart, ingredient shopping. You see, on this fateful night, I was to cook my signature (and probably only) dish, my not-so-famous puttanesca sauce. That's a whole other story. We got our stuff and after becoming one passenger short, went to Zias (it wasn't my idea this time!).

They had everything, except what I was after, again. I pick some popular shit to seek out, I'll tell you. Nancy got her Requiem For A Dream amongst other things so the outing wasn't a total loss.

At home, Cooking Mama a.k.a. me got to it. First off, I dropped the can of sauce into the boiling pot. Second, the pot began spitting at me because I'm not used to electric cookers. What a fucking mess that was. But hey, upon serving it, it genuinely went down a storm. Thanks Bongos!

But today is a special day, it's First Friday, where arty farty Arizonians congregate together on Roosevelt Row. We arrived at the art museum in time to catch the free trolley. It was taking ages so I used my magic wand that summons buses and that, and lit a cigarette. What do you know, it works. We walked past art stalls, exhibits of photos of men in drag, pencil drawings of trout, hot dog stands, record stores, all that game. I admit, my experience was short, but it was kind of interesting. If I had more time, I'd go again.

Since the art museum was free, after a literal minute's ride on the skyrail back, we had a gander. There were all these freaky deaky miniature rooms which said to me that the Italians were and are spoiled fucking brats. The paintings were all of St Sebastian, I don't know who that geezer is but in the compromising positions I saw him in, I feel like I do, better than anyone.

Taco Bell. Oh, Taco Bell. Product placement with Taco Bell. Our drive-in host Edgar was a prick, but I enjoyed my second taco of the day, this time it was supreme (which means 'with sour cream'). I also now know what Texmex means, so fuck the lot of ya.

"Shaved his legs and then he was a she"

In a bit.

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