Here’s my meal…
The flowers: are from Gerry - the “older” brother I never had. Oh, I have two younger ones and an older sister...but I never had the much desired ‘first born’ brother aka the heir apparent.
If you know anything about me it’s that technically, by default, I’m the ‘son-that-should-have-been’ - if you are new here stop dawdling and read THIS to get caught up and feel like you’re part of the popular crowd.
I mean really...if you’re not in...well, do the math, then you are...say it with me...OUT!
The corn: I husked it myself, nuked it for four minutes, skewered it with my little corn forks, rolled it in real butter, salted it and then…drum roll please...ate it!
Well, that was the plan so if you were hoping for something weird and kinky...yah, well, this is a PG 26 site (with kids staying at home longer we here at Pearson Report [hey Al it’s Brackets-Within-A-Bracket-Time: I have a staff of two, first there’s ME and then 'MYSELF and I' often pitch in when the going gets tough] feel the need to seriously monitor the nudity, course language and violent content of this site - it’s here, you just can’t see it.)
Trust me, I’m ranting, raving and fist waving all while sitting here in my still well-fitting birthday suit - pays to never put it in the dryer!
The wine: As you can see it’s red. It’s an unoaked Shiraz (I may or may not do a post on unoaked wines, but not now, so stop asking, “Jenny, what does ‘unoaked’ mean?” - you can always google it you know)
Where was I before I was interrupted...yes, red, unoaked, Shiraz...okay, back on track; this wine hails from Niagara Falls, Ontario. (like there isn’t enough good wines in BC!)
I like it; I drink it chilled (sue me) and I like that it’s unoaked! (typed with a wee snicker)
The english muffins: I double toasted them to make them extra crispy (anything less then extra crispy is wimpy), then I smeared a liberal helping of Hellmann’s Mayo on them (anything other than Hellmann’s is Sissymann’s), next I added the stuff on top.
The stuff on top: My neighbour, who was having a BBQ (I’m always invited, but never go...you know I’m shy!!!) gave me the stuff on top.
Anyway, she (my neighbour) brought this over along with a plate of ribs, chicken skewers, chicken wings, BBQ’d salmon (which her husband caught) - basically enough food to feed a small army. Hmmm...I wonder if she knows what’s going on over here…
Anyway, the stuff on top was chopped avocado and tomatoes and something else...you know the mystery ingredient that makes it taste fantastic but you never really know what it is and you dare not ask because knowing could kill you.
I always say keep me in the dark, the less I know the better for everyone!
But...as you see here I am alive and well and typing my memoirs so the mystery stuff must have been all right.
NOW...THE REAL REASON FOR WRITING THIS POST.
Before I can even start though I need to thank darev2005 for lending me the word “Snap”.
If you’re clever, which I know you are because you loyally follow and read my every word with bated breath, you will know what foul, seriously profane, over the top, out of this PG 26 world kinda word I’m talking about...oh, alright...I think (cause I don’t really know myself) it means Crap! There, look what you made me do...break my own PG rating.
We interrupt the currently scheduled rantings here at the over-staffed (could also be over-stuffed) Pearson Report to bring you the following plug…
Rev has the most interesting job and writes like a pro. He spins his work world into a fantastic yarn. A virtual page turner! I’m hooked and you will be too once you check him out.
Yes, you can go there now...I know you’ll be back because the smart ones know how to click and open a new Tab for dareve2005, thereby not needing breadcrumbs to find their way back here!
Back to the scheduled program…
Snap on TV
While enjoying my little feast I decided to tune into the telly.
And what do you think I watched...no, not Kim and her daft (Al, note the difference in spelling) husband, that didn’t know she was married once before, make even bigger fools of themselves then they already are.
No...what I watched was a documentary on the Passionate Eye called “Too fast to be a woman” about Caster Semenya, from South Africa, who was banned from international running competitions because she was too fast to be a woman, so her gender was questioned.
Seriously...I could not believe what I was watching.
If a man runs faster than other men he’s a freak of nature and we applaud the anomaly.
If a woman runs faster than other women she’s a fraud and we scorn her very existence and question her gender.
If you are so inclined, click the link above and take a peek. Watch the trailer (the second video on the site) or if you are interested in watching the actual program (the first video link) you will be utterly disgusted by the rules that govern gender testing in international sports.
Suffice it to say, if some male dominated governing body ever imposed such utterly ridiculous and preposterous restrictions on my daughter I would unlock and unload a round of bitch attitude into their thick, stupid hides. And you gotta know...it wouldn’t be last “man” standing, would it!
To you men out there that have daughters - I hope you would never allow something like this to prevent your daughter from being the best possible “human” she could be...all gender aside!
Well...that’s it in a nutshell.
I’m working on a huge THANK-YOU post for some awesome awards I recently received, you will not want to miss it, but it will take a minute or two - so until then…
What pushes your buttons when gender is called into question?
Thank you for following, for commenting, for being out there and in here.
Jenny
