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Another Reason We Need A:

Published 9.12.05 by Porkchop | E-mail this post

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pocket sized boyfriend/handyman/sex-slave/husband.

Because, we cannot open pickled okra jars. We are fairly strong competant women. We can open jam jars, pickle jars, mayonaise jars, mustard jars and pretty much all condiment jars. However, the pickled okra jar can only be opened after both of us have strained and heaved and huffed and puffed and generally exhausted ourselves. After, of course, meekly recanting our words of the uselessness of men.

That makes TWO things that groupies are good for: shoveling sidewalks and opening jars.

Stay posted for more earth shattering discoveries.

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This odd narrative is my life. I ended up in Pittsburgh, of all places--from the beach. I have no hobbies, other than cooking excessively and eating microwave popcorn. I enjoy shopping, the Food network, hiding the remote so the Food network cannot be turned off, find ethnic food stores and restaurants and reading voraciously. My life is decidedly pedestrian.

cookies for troops


I worked in the car business where I was required to be ruthless and soul-less wench, which is when I started this project. Since then, I've kept it up because secretly, I've always wanted to join the military. Every male in my mother's family has joined and I quietly entertain thoughts of joining. I haven't yet and don't know if I ever will, but sending the troops cookies keeps me sane. it makes me think I still have a shred of human kindness left in my withering soul. it's a small way for me to salute the men and women who are brave enough to fight for freedom. And makes me feel like I'm contributing toward troop morale--even if I'm not. So if you want to help, send me addresses of troops you know stationed overseas. you may also contribute toward the cost of chocolate chips, but don't feel obligated, that link is here only by request.


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