Kill it yourself

I am a vegetarian. A lily-livered, bleeding-heart, do-gooder vegetarian. Everyone expects me to be squeamish, and I will admit that sometimes I get a little woogy while shopping for my parents in the meat section of the supermarket.

I also get ooged out by handling meat. I have a hard time thinking of the stuff that runs out as "juices," because when I cut myself, "juice" does not run out. Animal juice is just like people juice to me, and I don't like people juice very much.

But you know what I don't have a problem with? Hunting. And raising your own animals and killing them yourself.

If you want to go out and get your own meat, I'm fine with it.

Chasing down wolves in helicopters like Sarah Palin doesn't sit well with me, and I don't like trophy hunting, but if you are providing your family with meat and you are willing to get your hands bloody doing it, more power to you.

I especially approve of people raising their own meat animals. That way you know what they are, WHO they are. You know what they have eaten and how healthy they are. And then, hopefully, you kill, prep and eat them with respect, wasting as little as possible, because you know what was sacrificed for your well-being.

This is why I also don't freak out over people eating eyeballs, brains, cheek, tongue. To me, meat is meat and it seems stupid to get all crazy over what part of the animal it comes from. How is it that eating the side of an animal is fine but ooh gosh no, not the tongue - THAT'S GROSS. Huh?

I love that people make sausage out of blood other "gross" stuff. To me, it shows respect to the animal, which is also what I am trying to do by not eating them at all.

Life in surferland

I saw this guy's bike surfboard rack and thought it was so cool that I geeked out and asked him if I could take photos of it. He was cooperative and wanted to tell me all about it.

He said it's not just eco-friendly and economical - it has another advantage:

"If it's cold and you drive down to the beach, you get out and of the car and you're cold," he said. "And then if it's big [the waves] and you have to paddle out, you're all stiff and not warmed up.

"But if you ride your bike to the beach, even if it's cold, you're warm when you get here and you're ready to go surf!"

I don't surf but I love living near a great surf spot. Watching surfers is the best meditation ever. There's something so relaxing about watching them be so graceful and daring and even considerate as they weave in and out among each other on the crowded waves.

Surfers and surf culture help make this a great place to live, because surfers are usually in a good mood - if the waves are good. I think it's hard to be stressed after you have spent a couple hours working out while simultaneously doing something really, really fun.

I worry for the future

I got this spam comment:
Good brief and this enter helped me alot in my college assignement. Say thank you you on your information.

If this person is truly in college, God help us all.

And a gratuitous pic of two cute dogs riding in a truck:


Why no archives, Suebob? Why just one post on the first page?
All will be revealed soon. Sorry for the interruption of your service.

In which I find my people

I covered an awards luncheon today. I introduced myself to the people at the table beforehand so they knew a spy was in their midst.

Here's how it went down: first there was a speech.

Then there were awards.

Then there were thanks. Lots and lots and lots of thanks.

Then a representative of a local politician gave the awardees certificates.

Then another representative of a local politician gave the awardees certificates.

Then another representative of a local politician gave the awardees certificates.

The priest at the table with me, with whom I had swapped jokes earlier, turned to the rest of us and stage-whispered "HOW LONG CAN THIS GO ON?" with this great dumbfounded look on his face. Rolled his eyes.

Then another representative of a local politician gave the awardees certificates.

The priest did a dramatic throwing-up-of-hands.

Trying to control myself, I snorted. Out loud.

Tried not to laugh. Shook with laughter.

The priest caught on to my mirth. Enjoyed my discomfort. His mouth twitched up at the corners.

I wiped my eyes.

I am totally gonna sit with him next year.

I Feel Like the Luckiest Woman in the World Right Now

I know you've been wondering where I was. Well, I have exciting news! I have been on a super-secret version of "The Bachelor"* for middle-aged people! It's called "The Bachelor: Scent of Desperation" and the Bachelor is a 50-something guy who looks kind of like Captain Kangaroo. You gotta work with what you have.

I know I'm not supposed to talk about what went down until the show airs, but I just can't wait. Hell, I've got a great attorney and contracts are made to be broken!

Last night I went on my first one-on-one date. Because the show is a little more low-budget than the regular Bachelor, we got sent to a Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf for a super-romantic decaf nonfat latte. It was romantic because they set 17 tea-lights on the table for extra ambiance, just like on the real show!

We had such a great conversation! I think he might be the ONE!

The Bachelor: You're amazing.
Suebob: Wait til you get to know me.
The Bachelor: You seem like the total package. I just hope you're here for all the right reasons.
Suebob: My reasons include that everyone on Match.com is insane and Craigslist scares me.
The Bachelor: I'm looking for the real deal. I want to marry my best friend.
Suebob: You want to marry Gary, that guy you golf with?
The Bachelor: I want to find someone to spend the rest of my life with. What do you want?
Suebob: At this point, I'd be happy to find someone who doesn't want to dress up in a squirrel suit and call me "Mommy."
The Bachelor: I'm looking for someone who can communicate.
Suebob: You might want to be careful what you ask for. And take a look at my blogs, Flickr, my twitter-stream and my Facebook page.
The Bachelor: I want a good mother for my children.
Suebob: Your children are college graduates, aren't they?
The Bachelor: I just like the simple things.
Suebob: Like snuggling on the couch while you watch football for 16 hours at a time on your 64 inch TV?
The Bachelor: You're amazing
Suebob: You already said that. Like 28 times. To every woman on the show. And to 4 production assistants.
The Bachelor: I have a lot of love to give.
Suebob: I know. You've been married four times.
The Bachelor: Do you want to hook up now or do we have to wait for the Fantasy Suite that ferret-face Chris Harrison always provides about Week 19?
Suebob: Dude, do you have to ask? I'm over 45 years old, I'm single, and I'm dying to get out of these Spanx. Let's GO!

See? I think he's into me! Those other women don't stand a chance.





*This is parody and is constitutionally protected, thanks to that freak Larry Flynt and the Supreme Court.