1) Ass Bangs – if you are Asian, feel free to skip ahead to the next item on the list, as your people were born with glorious thick hair on your heads, and no hair anywhere else. PS – I hate you damn hairless Asians! I, however, come from some white trash sharecropper stock straight outta Mississippi, and being of this questionable ethnic pedigree, I am hairy like a straight-up monkey. Now, twenty years ago, this item would not have existed, as ladies were allowed to just let nature run its own show downstairs and dudes just had to deal. But nowadays, since we have to take care of our ladybusiness all Swank magazine-style (read: nearly/completely bare down there) ass bangs were born. Not sure what an ass bang is? Fade in: you just shaved/waxed your business but accidentally maybe on purpose due to it being a harrowing task didn’t put your big ole bootie up to look at it in a mirror to determine that yes indeedy there is hair back there. Guess what? You’ve got ass bangs. Could explain why that super cute dude you did it with all carefree and Carrie Bradshaw-style didn't call the next day, or ever. This could be a bonafide PSA for those of you who have remained blissfully unaware of all that goes on back there, but I assure you if you haven’t taken care of that business, you got yourself some ass bangs. You’re welcome.
2) Stache/lady beard – self-explanatory. And for those of you who are not Asian but are sitting there thinking innocently, “I don’t have a stache,” think again. After doing God only knows how many people’s makeup over the years (you may recall my God-given skillz), I can testify that almost EVERYONE has some amount of stache that needs to be taken care of with waxing, laser, electrolysis, etc. If you still don’t believe me, look closer. And closer still. Boom! Told ya you had a stache!
3) Cankles – as I have expressed before, I come by these babies honest. My crazy mom has cankles. My beloved sociopathic grandmother (RIP) had cankles. And I’m pretty sure my share-croppin’ great grandmother had her some sweet share-croppin’ cankles. All you can do is try to minimize the appearance of these using techniques akin to those I use in my special ass camo. See my previous post if you don’t remember. I would provide a link, but that would just encourage you to be lazy. Other options for subterfuge include, but are not limited to: giant wedge heels (so high that maybe if you are running across the street drunk off jello shots pushing a stroller you may fall down and break your toe in such a hideous fashion that the memory of said toe “haunts my dreams,” according to one former child model who shall remain nameless); wide leg pants, so wide in fact that you could be accused of wearing palazzo pants; and ridiculously bright, dark, or glittery toenail polish (the theory here is that if the passerby is mesmerized by your toenails, he’ll hardly have time to look at your cankles); and last but certainly not least; long-ass prairie skirts that make me look like a Pentecostal or possibly a Mennonite (but a Pentecostal/Mennonite with small, delicate (read: completely hidden) ankles).
2. Long perfectly groomed hair. Seriously, why is it not in a pony!
3. 10 inch heels...did I mention this is at Universal Studios? Lots of walking about outside in the sweltering heat.
4. Pushing a double pram AKA stroller for you westerners, with a fashionable tote slung over her shoulder. I forgot to mention that the pram has only 1 kid in it so there is LOTS of storage space for the tote but yet her outfit would not be complete if the bag were not on her shoulder.
5. Her face is hidden as I am trying to protect her identity but she had full make up on.
Here is an Expat...
2. tennis shoes for all the walking...check
3. white t shirt with sleeves pushed up and shorts because it is super hot...check
4. canvas tote...check
5. big sun glasses to hide the fact there is not a drop of makeup on my face...check
I will say the local looks 100 times better but I survived the day in comfort. Lets face it I did not go to Universal Studios to walk the runway. I went to cart 3 kids around in the hot Singapore sun so we could check it off our list of things to do while in Singapore.
Maybe if I stay here long enough I will start strutting around in 5 inch heels and full make up on everyday...not likely but you never know.
10. "Wanna race? Never mind."
Context: anytime SD is riding his trike down the street and some other people (children or grown-ups) approach, he pedals really fast and screams this at them. Genius, obvi.
9. "She will look like a big ole oompa loompa if she wear flats all the time."
Context: he is quoting what I had just told my Dad after complaining about my feet hurting in heels. Loves how he quotes me all the time. Clearly, I love the sh*t I say best of all.
8. "I have two imagination friends. Their names are Flapjack and Skeleton."
Context: none. He just told me this out of the blue.
7. "This Daddy's song."
Context: upon hearing "Wichita Lineman" by Glen Campbell. Nice.
6. "Candy rains down from the sky. And who doesn't like candy??"
Context: SD said this all indignant-like when describing the homecoming parade. As in, what kind of an idiot wouldn't want to be where candy is raining down from the sky?? Duh.
5. "Hey mama, I just pooped on the porch."
Context: self-explanatory. He just decided to pull down his pants and poop on our back porch. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. And for those of you who don't know, we do have two working toilets - RICH!
4. "Oh nap! Got bump-it!"
Context: again quoting me, as we drove by Walgreens, where the day before he had heard me scream "oh snap, they got bump-its!" when I saw that Walgreens was now carrying the miracle hair accessory that was formerly only available on TV.
3. "I am thank you for my penis."
Context: on Thanksgiving, when we asked him to tell us what he is thankful for, this is what he came up with.
2. "Mama, I poop my mouf."
Context: he threw up in his bed, and having never thrown up before, he was just making his best guess as to what happened.
1. "Mama, you smell like cocktails."
Context: after hugging me on a Friday evening (aka happy hour goes all night), he said this. I have no words.
4 chicken breast, diced
5 cups H2O
1 large onion, chopped
2 Tbls butter
3-4 celery ribs, chopped
4 (16 oz) Northern beans, rinsed
3 (4.5 oz) green chilies
2 cups chicken broth
1-2 tsp cumin
2 bay leaves
1 tsp salt
1/8 tsp cayenne
cilantro, tortilla chips and monterey jack cheese for garnish
Saute the onion and celery in the butter. Boil the chicken in the water and chicken broth for about 8 minutes and start adding the rest of the ingredients minus 2 cans of great nothern beans. Blend the last two cans of beans and stir in. I simmer it for about 30 minutes and it is awesome!!!
6 boneless chicken breasts
1/2 package of bacon
1 jar Hormel dried beef
1 can cream of mushroom
1/2 cup sherry or white wine
Preheat your oven to 300. I spray Pam in the bottom of the cassarole before I assemble this one. Cover the bottom of the cassarole in a layer of dried beef. Wrap the chicken in a piece of bacon and lay it on top of the beef. Spread undiluted soup over the chicken and sprinkle with pepper. Cover this in aluminum foil and bake for 2 hours. Remove the foil and add the 1/2 cup of sherry or wine and bake another 20-30 minutes at 350. I typically baste the chicken several times to keep it juicy.
This is the most delicious and EASY recipe!!! Oven temperatures vary, so I have done this faster, keep checking it. I serve it over rice, but you can put it with almost any side dish. Enjoy!
As a result, you can get twenty years of experience handing out Halloween candy in one night. We have to invite people over to help. Two benefactors “work” at a time – fifteen minute shifts. If you go any longer, you get cramps in your cheeks and shoulders. Your smile becomes plastered - like a four hour, single pose photo shoot. And the exchanges become forced and tired. As practice, repeat “Alright! Spider-man. Awesome. Happy Halloween.” 70 times in 15 minutes.
This year we handed out more than 3,000 pieces of candy. My father-in-law just happened to be in town last year for the first mistake-filled Halloween in our new house. So he kindly cut a deal with a “candy wholesaler” and shipped us 40 pounds of sweets. In preparation, my husband and I had already bought over 1,000 pieces of candy during the early offseason.
We thought my father-in-law’s candy contribution would be unneeded. We were wrong. There are six pieces of uneaten, wholesale “Kandy Aple Cheews” [sic] left. These KACs appear to have been manufactured somewhere deep in the third world. And for a very high profit margin. So we were hesitant to hand them out. When it became evident that they’d be needed, we drew straws to see who would test them. I was sure the trail of discarded KACs leading back to our front porch would also lead potential plaintiffs directly to the source of their injury.
Matt (my husband) drew the short straw to test the candy. He said they were “surprisingly delicious – like a Sour Apple Jolly Rancher® injected into a caramel.” I suspected that this was a ruse. When he suggested that I try one, I KNEW it was a ruse. So I threw mine away. But since he did not cut his tongue or begin convulsing, we decided to hand them out. This gave us the necessary ammunition to stay out on the front porch and defend our homestead - from would-be trickers taking advantage of our lack of preparedness for their attack. Standing out on the front porch without candy is worse than having the house destroyed. As practice, look your child in the eye and tell them “Sorry, no candy.” 70 times in 15 minutes.
So I’m sure you’re asking yourself, why we don’t board up the windows, turn off the porch light, turn on the alarm system and rope off the entire yard with police tape (some of our neighbors actually do this). Because believe it or not. It’s fun. If we locked ourselves in the house and turned off all the lights, I never would have heard, learned, listened to, or laughed at ....
Matt’s (my law school study partner) repartee with the treaters.
To every princess - “Love your hair. I hope you win.”
To every toddler superhero - Full origin histories, rankings on his list of all time faves and critiques on the accuracy of their costumes.
Matt: “Awesome. Spiderman.”
The kid: “I’m not Spiderman. I’m Peter Parker.”
Matt: “Then you need to take off your Spiderman mask.”
The kid: “Ok.” [timidly]
Matt: “Great Venom costume. But he doesn't carry a glow in the dark pirate sword and you need more muscles.”
To a Spiderman, Wolverine, Spiderman combo in succession.
Matt: “Spiderman. Great costume. Happy Halloween.”
Matt: “Wolverine. He’s my favorite. X-Men!”
[High Five after candy deposit]
Matt: “Did you hear what I said to the last kid?
[3rd kid nods]
Matt: “Good. Happy Halloween, Spiderman.”
Nine different theories on who deserves “good” candy, “more” candy, “less” candy and who deserves KACs.
Some theories were more egalitarian. Matt (my husband) believes every treater gets two pieces of good candy until supplies run low. His friends would probably say this candy theory is a metaphor for his political beliefs and/or ignorance. But it would sound more like “Of course he does, that stupid hippie.”
Some were more merit based. My sister-in-law (MacKenzie) has a sliding scale of cuteness.
Substandard cuteness (most of the treaters) = 1 piece of nearby candy.
Cute = 1 piece of “good” candy.
A cute toddler in a bedazzled animal costume = 2 handfuls of “good” candy and a piece of homemade fried chicken.
And some people were willing to start fights with treaters to defend their candy beliefs. Genevieve has a strongly held (and common) belief to minimize handouts to un-costumed teenagers. One such teenager tried to “double dip.” He came to me first. One KAC. He moved on to Gen and held open his CVS bag with a knowing smirk to Gen’s twitchless stare. He thought she would give in just to avoid conflict and keep the line moving. But he was wrong. When Gen put down the candy bowl and started to stand up, he quickly turned and left. He was still looking over his shoulder when he got to the sidewalk – making sure that she wasn’t coming after him. That kid probably peed on my bushes in the early morning hours of November 1st. But I’ll still log that as a win.
Now that I think about it, you should hand out Halloween candy with everyone you know. It’s like a social experiment.
Matt (my husband) after 8 beers.
One of the mothers was directing four children through the line. When one of hers got to the front of the line she’d say “[Insert Name] say ‘Trick or Treat’” then “[Insert Name] say ‘Thank You.’” The first three kids all obediently repeated her lines.
The last kid was taking his time. He was obviously in trouble for disobeying the commands at previous stops. But he still didn’t want to bend to his mother’s structured beg and curtsy. So he mumbled something under his breathe. My husband handed him his candy. And the kid sprinted off without saying thanks. His mother straightened up, pointed to the spot immediately in front of her feet and screamed down the street at him. “Get back here and say ‘Thank You’.”
From two houses down we could hear a faint “thank you”. My husband confidently yelled in response “You’re welcome, Yo Yo.” The mother doubled over in laughter, pointing over her shoulder and screaming to her friends “He called him Yo Yo.”
Apparently the child’s name was [eye – yo]. I have no idea how to spell it. But please feel free to call my husband Yo Yo the next time you see him.
Of course, this is the point. You pay the treaters with candy for entertainment. And we got more than our money's worth. Some inappropriate – mom wearing a sexy nurse costume (with thigh highs and stripper heels) while carrying her 3 month old baby (with a bottle in its mouth) around to trick or treat. Some bizarre – an entire sullen family in very authentic looking prison jumpers and the father in a warden costume. Tons of cute – babies and toddlers smiling ear to ear wearing animal costumes.
And some hilarious. Please understand that I am in no way making fun of this adorable little girl in the pictures below. Her parents knew the costume was funny. They intended it to be. And they were happy for her to pose for pictures. This is J Lo.
JLo and her chaperon now know the heavily guarded secret spices used in my husband’s legendary fried chicken. They never even smelled a KAC.
I can’t wait until next year.
 There were ten people holding the fort – Me (and if I drew the short straw I was going to make my husband do it anyway), Matt (my husband), my sister-in-law (MacKenzie), her husband (Aaron), my in laws (Nanny Presh and Orvis), Keith (one of our college friends who lives on a less trafficked nearby street), his wife (Genevieve), Matt (my study partner and good friend from law school) and his partner (Brendan). We were supplied with the aforementioned Halloween candy; 1 ½ cases of Miller Lite; two bottles of wine; 8 or so loose single, undesirable beers; a box of wine/2 liter of Fresca (read Granny’s Wine Spritzer); and two huge trays of my husband’s Legendary Fried Chicken.
 I asked my husband how my father-in-law knew a candy wholesaler and he just laughed. Do you think this “wholesaler” is selling candy door-to-door on oil rigs? I need answers.
 Offseason = discount. The candy may not be (is not) “fresh”. But we’re not eating it. While we did not buy this candy at Big Lots on November 1, 2009, we have learned some skills of thrift from Classy and her Dad.
 This was like the moment at the Alamo when they chose the person to ride out past the Mexican army to request reinforcements for fiftieth time. Of course, I’m not sure that this happened at the Alamo. All I know about the Alamo I learned during a field trip tour and I was more focused on which keepsake trinket I was going to buy at tour’s end. Now I should have learned this in school. But I paid little to no attention to Texas History in 7th grade. My teacher gave me a “0” on an assignment for failing to color in a Texas map the first week of class. So I tuned her out for the rest of the year. When she told the class that driving an American car was “patriotic”, I was sure she was a kook. And I felt reinforced in my decision to use this class time to teach myself how to skillfully use paint pens and bubble letters.
 Last year, we ran out of candy in an hour. So people assumed we were not home. Our front yard became the congregating place for people trying to get out of the swarm of humanity. The next morning, our yard was covered in candy wrappers, soda bottles, dirty diapers, baby bottles and teenage delinquent refuse (half-smoked butts, aged but fully wrapped condoms and Adderall).
 It should be noted here that Matt (my study partner) should automatically be cast into the Halloween Hall of Fame. Not only were these exchanges constant and original, his stamina was incredible. He pulled a triple shift without blinking an eye.
 No one disputed that “good” candy is name brand chocolate. Everything else is methadone for sugar junkies.
HFGBC Election Day Special: If the 2010 Texas Governor's Race Was Based Solely on Hair, I Think We All Know Who Would Win
Then along came this governor's race. Note that I use the term "governor's race" as opposed to the correct, "gubernatorial race." I will not use the term gubernatorial, and I may cut anyone who does. Don't judge. So what got me hooked this time were the ads. Now, if I learned anything in my 7th Grade Texas History class, which I know I did because it was taught by a gym coach, it is that the governor of Texas has no power and the real power in this state is held by the lieutenant governor. This has to do with the Civil War and possibly some carpetbagging yankees or something like that. The point being that we really shouldn't even care who the governor is because he's just a figurehead. But the ads, they are just so good. You see Rick Perry, and his rugged good looks and fabulously styled wings, looking like a super hot rancher in a Carhart jacket, and I'm like, now that's a governor I can really get behind. Then along comes poor, sad Bill White. He's got a great big ole bald head, some sweet-ass dumbo ears, and I don't even know what kind of jacket he's wearing, but it doesn't look at all hot Texas rancher-y. It looks more pencil-pushing computer nerd/IT guy at your work-y. Like this dude has a chance.
I guess the good news is that (hopefully) most Texans are far more informed than me and also make decisions not based on looks. Not to say Rick Perry isn't great, because I truly have no idea what he stands for, or what Bill White stands for either. I'm just saying that if this shit came down to hair Bill White's got no chance, cause I likes my figureheads covered with glorious feathered hair that has been carefully sprayed with some Consort Men's Hairspray.
You're Welcome, Rick Perry.
I am still running by the way. I look more like I am falling down and I have seen actual snails go faster than me, but I keep on trying. And needless to say, I am STILL NOT HIGH. I'll keep you posted if this changes, but I wouldn't hold your breath. Unless of course you come anywhere near me after one of my "runs."
1) Seriously, this blog needs to go viral (whatever the hell that means) so that I can make bank and quit working. Like forever. Oh, who am I kidding my Dad would make me work even if I won the Powerball. Regardless, let's take this sweet blog to the streets, because I wanna be a billionaire so frickin' bad.
2) I would like the record to reflect that I originally wrote a full-on bad word in the title of this post, then, remembering my classiness, put a classy-ass asterisk in instead of an "i". Two points in the classy collumn for Jill.
It's a trilogy. I have only read the first one but will be getting the others stat!
I read it in 3 days. But could have read it in one had my children all been in school.
It's a young adult book. That means it is super CLASSY!
Get on board...you know you want to.
Movie slated for 2013. I will be back by then, so I will begin planning the midnight showing.
Could this new series possibly replace Twilight?
If I Could Sum Up What HFGBC Stands for in a Piece of Furniture, This Would Be that Piece of Furniture
Oh, here's the piece of furniture:
Hilarious, right? It says CLASSY. Love it!!!
It was, in a word, AWESOME!!!! I won't try to be too sappy, but it was exactly what it should have been, and we (my classmates and I) were exactly who we should have been 20 years ago. Everyone was nice, and happy, and genuinely interested in each other. We hugged, kissed, bought each other beers, and talked about our kids and our lives. We reminisced about high school and how big of jerks we all were. But mostly, we acted like the good people none of us were in high school when we were all too worried about being cool to be nice. It was a lovefest. And a beer/Strawberry Hill fest (clearly, I have always been classy). And later, Jill's personal bottomless pukefest. And by bottomless I mean my pants. And my ginormous Assets (from the makers of Spanx!). You know how when you are lying on the bathroom floor and your Assets (from the makers of Spanx!) are cutting off your circ when you're trying to get your puke on...those babies are coming off. My dad was all trying to cover my nakedness as we were at his parents' house and all, and I think I probably replied belligerently with an incoherent "F off, buddy (glug glug glug - that's the sound of me puking)". But seriously, I know you were all waiting to hear about this with baited breath, especially you, Emily, so I wanted to get something up about it now that my four day hangover has worn off.
Because everyone I hang out with is far younger than me (I am extremely immature as well as classy and sophisticated), I encourage you all to go to your reunions, even if you totally and completely don't want to do it. It is soooo worth it.
I am so glad I went back and gave my high school friends a chance to be the better people they are now. And I am even more glad that they gave me a chance, too.
Walk my kids to school...you heard that right. Walking in the Singapore heat at 8:30 in the morning is pure torture especially when you have 2 four year olds in the midst of it all.
Are you asking yourself, why did they have to walk? Because we are not RICH and only have one car. The Man was in town and needed the car. Whatev! is all I have to say to that. I need my own car. Right ladies? Back me up!
To top it off I could not a get a P.O for a taxi to drive me the 2 minutes it would take by automobile.
So we had to trek it by foot. I refused to take the double stroller because the girls are four. Seriously their 4 that would be ridiculous. 15 minute walk we can handle that, right?
So, off we went on our first walk to school.
Can you guess who got carried? Hint: it was not me or Layne.
Guess who did the carrying? Hint: it was not me or Layne
I know. I am a sorry excuse for a mother. I brought Ruby on the glorious walk to school. I can't do anything on my own these days.
Fade into the lockers: Layne and I strolling hand in hand picking flowers joyfully and humming Ruby, Ruby, Ruby, Ruby Soho while 2 steps behind is Ruby with a pink princess backpack over each shoulder and a 4 yr old in her arms.
In my defense, I told Ruby she did not have to carry Bryce. She wanted to.
I think I will take the Texas sized stroller when I pick up the girls this afternoon....
1) The Dallas Private School Preview
2) Shopping for outfits for my reunion
Now of course number one was pure torture and a great reminder why I don't belong in Dallas. It was pouring down rain,and we had to stand in lines waiting to get on little buses like refugees from a war, but in addition, I got the hear things like, "how many of your students end up in the Ivy League," from the parents of an 18-month-old child in a Burberry outfit. SICK!! Now you all know my Dad ain't paying for no private school, but I felt like I needed to do some serious due dilligence in case SD ever goes postal. You know, like if I'm testifying at the penalty portion of his trial, I want to be able to say, "well, I looked at some of the best schools in Texas, but unfortunately, I couldn't afford to send him to any of them, so that's why he is a homicidal maniac." Gotta cover the bases.
Of course, number two was by far more harrowing than number one. I went to Nordstrom and literally planned to spend whatever it takes to make myself look super awesome (read: 20 pounds lighter) for my reunion. We had the personal shopper and everything. Something that my Dad was extremely worried about and in fact told me, and I quote, "Personal shopper? I'm a personal shopper - here's a tube top and a sparkle skirt. Done." But I digress. The personal shopper was super sweet and didn't even vomit or ask me to leave when I told her my size, but literally, I could find absolutely NOTHING that didn't highlight the fact that my ass looks like the Mom from Good Times. Hence the title of this post. And don't even get me started on "Not Your Daughter's Jeans." They should rename those bitches "Not Your Daughter's Jeans unless your daughter is Florida Evans aka the Mom off Good Times and then yes they are in fact your daughter's jeans." Maybe it's a hair too long for a title of some pants.
Please wish me luck - I am off to Steinmart right now to buy some sick ass matte jersey separates and just accept the fact that I am going to look hideous (read: exactly like I actually look) at my reunion. At least I have a good job and a heroin chic husband. Oh and my off-brand botox/laser face and a shitload of rich makeup...silver lining!!
And what I have discovered here in Singapore with all my free time is this piece of eye candy!
|Puck from Glee|
I told you...I have a sickness.
What is up with that?
I know~ no one wants to follow Jill and all her hilariousness. Someone has to do it...don't be skareddd!
Fine, I'll go.
So this morning, Ruby and I go to the grocery store after we drop the girls at school. It's a pleasant Tuesday morning strolling down the aisles of the RIDICULOUSLY expensive store. When Ruby says, "Ma'am, I need a new ironing board cover. The one we have is brown."
***Now I am thinking in my head*** WTF...I have had that same ironing board and cover since I was first married. (13 years if you are keeping tally) I have NEVER had to replace the cover. It looked brand new when we shipped it over here.
Back to conversation with Ruby...
Me: Brown, why is it brown? Can't you wash it?
Ruby: No. Ma'am. (she then proceeds to tell me why...)
Me: OK. Can you wait until mid October?
Ruby: No problem, Ma'am.
I am pretty sure Ruby thinks I am an idiot.
So, in Singapore the ironing boards are not the same size as the US. I did not have a PO for a brand new Singapore ironing board, so I am having to have my mom bring some ironing covers over when she comes in October.
I ask you ladies, how is that I can go my entire adult life not knowing you need to have replacement covers for your ironing board? Is it reasonable to believe that you can go through a cover in 3 months? I am so perplexed by this. Granted she does use it almost everyday but still! Have you had to replace yours?
How many covers should I request from my mom? Can you tell that I will be thinking about this all day long?
Let me reiterate, I am pretty sure Ruby thinks I am an idiot. I don't know about ironing boards and there are lots of other things as well that she has had to ask for...ie mashed potato masher...seriously, I ain't rich. When Jill makes mashed potatoes at Thanksgiving at my house I am pretty sure she uses a fork...so now you can call me RICH because we have one now. So, Jill, in 3 years when I am back on American soil for Thanksgiving I will have a masher for your delicious garlic mashed potatoes. And I will take an ice bomb as well.
What Ruby wants Ruby gets!
So back to NM, I got the totally perfect Kim Kardashian nude lip-look!!! This was right after I asked the guy, "do you have a totally perfect Kim Kardashian nude lip-look?" He did. The gloss is also favored by J-Lo, so score!!! I hardly even needed to wear pants at all today with my lips looking as fabulous as they do! Too bad I don't know how to work the internets, or I would be posting a sweet pick of them.
Stay tuned for my next ass camo post: why wedge heels and a giant bag are necessities in cankle subterfuge!!
2 tablespoons olive oil
2 tablespoons freshly squeezed lime juice
1/4 teaspoon salt
Freshly ground black pepper
1 pound white flaky fish fillet, like tilapia or halibut (I used Tilapia and it was $4.95 lb)
1/2 cup plain nonfat yogurt
2 tablespoons mayonnaise
2 teaspoons chipotle pepper, in adobo sauce
8 (6-inch) corn tortillas
1 1/2 cups shredded green cabbage or lettuce
1/2 cup corn kernels (thawed if frozen)
1/4 cup fresh cilantro leaves
In a small bowl, whisk together the oil, lime juice, salt and pepper. Pour over the fish fillets and let marinate for 20 minutes. Put the yogurt into a strainer lined with apaper towel and place over a bowl to drain and thicken for 20 minutes.
Remove the fish from the marinade and grill on a preheated grill or nonstick grill pan over a medium-high heat until cooked thorough, about 3 minutes per side. Set the fish aside on a plate for 5 minutes.
In a small bowl combine the thickened yogurt, mayonnaise, and chipotle pepper.
Heat the tortillas on the grill or grill pan for 30 seconds on each side.
Flake the fish with a fork. Top each tortilla with 1 tablespoon of the chipotle cream. Top with fish, cabbage, corn and cilantro and serve with lime wedges.
You know we love to eat healthy stuff and these only took minutes to make. Eli and I both porked down on 4 tacos each because they were too delish.
1) Classy - all HFGBC girls strive to be classy above all else. We do realize; however, that classy people never, ever say the word classy, and we say it pretty much every other word. Classy people don't buy "classy big pearls from Target." Classy people "try to make timeless choices." Nevertheless, for us, it's all about classy and it always will be.
2) My dad - my husband. This term is to be used especially when referring to your husband cheaping out on you. For example, "my dad said I couldn't put my necklaces in individual ziploc bags because that would mean we were made out of money." True story. Single tear.
3) Rich - everything cool and awesome that we like is rich. Anytime we don't have something we wish we did we say, "I'm sorry, I'm not rich." For example, when one of us showed up with a casserole covered with Press-n-Seal, we all said, "Press-n-seal, huh? Looks like somebody's rich." True story again. BTW, I got Press-n-Seal for my birthday one year. I think you've heard about my dad.
4) TOAL - my dad actually made this one up, but we all use it. It stands for "trip of a liftetime." We use it to refer to an exotic Caribbean vacay, or a weekend trip to a state park in Oklahoma.
5) Popozao - we LOVE Britney, and thus we also love K-Fed. So if it's good enough for K-Fed, it's good enough for us. POPOZAO!
I know we will be adding tons more of our awesome sayings to this dictionary, so keep your eyes open for frequent updates.
Jill's "Only Balls I Want in My Mouth Unless I'm Really Trashed or Maybe Want a New Dining Room Table from the Dump" Meatballs
I have to credit my dad for help with the title of this recipe. As you all know, my man is both dirty and shady, so of course when I said meatballs, you know where he took it.
1 lb ground beef - this is originally a Whole Foods recipe, so you know it calls for grass-fed, no hormone, no-antibiotic super beef. Since the bank turned me down for that all-important healthy beef loan I applied for, I used some 90/10 from the giant log I got at Sam's Club. Yes, you too can take care of all your fall fashion needs and buy jacked up hamburger meat in a giant log at Sam's Club. Membership has its privileges.
3/4 cup cooked quinoa - I know, it's so fancy! It is even pronounced kinda Frenchy-like "keen - wah." It is really just couscous that looks like tiny (somewhat creepy) little curls. I hear that it is super duper healthy and maybe was revered for its godlike properties by the ancient Mayans. Those Mayans!!
1/4 cup shredded carrot - I shredded this up really tiny and SD still was able to pull out a piece, wince, and scream, "what is this in my meatball??" My advice, maybe shred it, then chop it.
1/4 cup shredded zucchini - I shredded this into the most beautiful and perfectly thin circles of zucchini. See SD's reaction above. Again, shred then chop to trick those who would refuse to eat a meatball that is full of veggies.
2 T ketchup - loves. This is so my mother, I can hardly stand it. She always glazed her meatloaf with ketchup. Clearly, I learned classy from a master.
2 T chopped fresh garlic - I like the kind that is already chopped up and is in a little jar that you keep in your fridge. I know I am sounding more and more rich as this recipe goes on. Don't hate.
1 T soy sauce - gotta keep it on the Asian tip at least a little in honor of our 1/2 Asian Bird that flew off to Singapore. Don't go chasing waterfalls, my friend.
1/2 t pepper - I didn't measure this, just grinded a whole bunch into the bowl.
1/2 t salt - I use coarse kosher. Shalom.
1/4 t dried oregano - I used fresh. Just kidding, who has fresh oregano?
1/4 t dried thyme
Preheat the oven to five hundo. So I am already loving this recipe when I read that because if I learned anything from my mother (besides how to act like an escaped lunatic from an insane asylum) it is that anything worth cooking is worth cooking fast, and at an extremely high temperature.
Line a large cookie sheet with foil, then spray it down with Pam. I know it is rich to waste foil like that, but it cuts down on dishes and I do it real sneaky-like when my dad is busy working on his fantasy football draft.
Dump all the ingredients in a big bowl and mix them all up. You gotta use your hands to do this and it is pretty sick, so just get ready. Next, form the mixture into small balls (heh heh). The geniuses over at Whole Foods say 16 balls but I made like 36, and they were still plenty big. Put them all on the cookie sheet and roast them until they are "golden brown" and cooked through for like 12-15 minutes. Mine came out just plain brown and not so much "golden brown" but I am okay with that. They are meatballs after all.
Serve hot. I tried to give them to SD without any pasta (b/c they are already full of starchy quinoa wonder food) but he was not having that. So I put them on a bed of whole wheat penne with some jar spaghetti sauce. They were delish!
I chop up my pecan pieces really fine in my mini processor. I mean I put it on grind. I don't really like to even know that there are pecans on top.
This recipe is mysterious because everyone claims it can't be made by anyone but me. They further claim that I am witholding secrets so that they cannot make it and therefore I keep all the glory of my signature dish. That is ridiculous, obviously, because I get all my glory from makeup application (my true gift from God above), so suck it bitches!
You know I will try to give y'all some exact measure-y type equivalents and what not, but I don't roll like that, so be cool.
1 whole chicken or 3-4 boneless/skinless chicken breasts - if you are hardcore and you loves the flavor flav, you'll do a whole chicken, but sometimes that is just too much work.
3 cans chicken broth - I use the fat free b/c I am skinny like that and this is a super lowfat recipe that is only 475.5 WW points per serving. You can also use reconstituted bouillon in a pinch.
1 bag tortilla chips - The really hard cheap kind work best. I know this because my dad only let's me buy the really hard cheap kind. Single tear.
1 block Velveeta - Even my PSD (pathological saving disorder) dad doesn't make me use off-brand Velveeta because it is from the Devil.
2 small cans chopped green chiles
1 medium onion, chopped
1 pint half & half - I told you this was lowfat.
1 can Rotel, blended - You can use a jar of salsa, as well.
Chili powder, cumin, garlic powder, onion powder, bay leaves
Braise the chicken or breasts in the broth. This will take about 30 minutes for breasts and at least an hour for the whole chicken. I add the bay leaves, garlic powder, and onion powder to the braising liquid. For those who don't know, braising is a fancy/classy way to say boil. No one wants to start their signature recipe saying, "so you boil you up a big ole chicken..." That's not classy, plain and simple.
Once the chicken is cooked, remove it from the liquid and let it cool. Then chop it up into bite-sized pieces. If you use the whole chicken, you'll need to skin and debone it as well. Hence the need to not use the whole chicken because it takes all damn day.
While the chicken is cooling, saute the onion in some Pam or olive oil with the green chiles. Do this a big boiler or stockpot because you are going to add all the other ingredients to this pot. Next, add the salsa/blended Rotel and chopped Velveeta to this pot and get it all melty. You may need to add a little of that braising liquid that you didn't already pour down the sink to get it good and melty. Then, take it off the heat and add in the chopped chicken and half & half. I know I left this crucial tip out when I originally gave out this recipe, causing several batches of King Ranch Chicken with Fresh Cottage Cheese to be created. Take it off the heat, my friends. Now, stir this all up and then taste. At this point, I will usually add cumin and chili powder to taste, as well as any additional salsa/Rotel to get the spiciness just right.
Dump the chips in a lasagne pan that has been sprayed down with Pam. Then, pour the cheese mixture over this. You can kinda do a layer-y number on this as well, if you like your King Ranch extra chippy, which I do. Cover with foil and bake at 425 for an hour. This part has some play in it, too, because some people like this dish runny and others do not. I usually check it after 45 minutes or an hour for consistency then add time on as needed. I finish it off with the foil off and about 5 minutes on broil.
You can also freeze this dish and bake it straight from the freezer, it just takes longer. Don't ask me how long, because you know I don't know. I just play it by ear, and by that I mean I was drunk and I don't remember.
Now with those crazy ass explicit directions, you better be able to cook this recipe so well that it would charm my mother out of an oxycontin. JJ - nothing would charm her out of one of those.
1 15 oz. can black beans, rinsed and drained
16 oz. Velveeta, cut into chunks
1 container Ready fresh Go pico de gallo - mild or hot
1 avacado, diced
4 oz. Heb Queso Fresco - crumbled
Combine sauce and beans in 8x8 casserole dish. Top with velveeta. Microwave for approx. 3 minutes or until cheese melts (aka, days - don't believe the 3 minutes unless you have a super powered industrial microwave). Stir together and top with pico, avacado, and queso fresco. Service with chips and a Classy Lady.
1 box yellow cake mix - you must use yellow, because you can really only taste the yellow-y goodness that way
1 bag Nestle Tollhouse semi-sweet chocolate chips - do not use off brand. You know my dad made me try it. Not cool. Don't use milk chocolate either. That's just being sweet-crazy.
A bunch of cinnamon sugar that you maybe made up a while ago to sprinkle on buttered hotdog buns out of the freezer when you "needed" something sweet but were too lazy to go to Wendy's and get that Frosty. Don't judge.
Whatever else it says you need on the cake mix box.
Melted butter. A lot. Like at least one whole stick.
Optional - any chopped nuts you may have in your freezer - pecans or walnuts would be especially good. You will never have nuts in it if you eat mine; however, because I do not have nuts in my freezer because I am not rich.
Make up the cake mix like it says to do on the box, following the cupcake instructions. Then, stir in the whole bag of chocolate chips, as well as a healthy dump of the cinnamon sugar (I am guessing like 1/2 to 3/4 cup but you know I don't measure shit). Pour the batter in the little paper cupcake cups in a muffin tin. I like to use a small ladle sprayed down with Pam so they slide right on in. Then bake according to the package instructions. When they are done, quickly take them out and put them on some cooling racks, and by cooling racks I mean brown paper sacks from the grocery store. I believe I have already shared that I am not rich. You have to do this fast because you want them really hot for the extremely important butter/cinnamon step. Now, brush them all quickly with the melted butter and sprinkle them with a bunch of cinnamon sugar. If I have butter leftover, sometimes I do this step twice, because you don't get an ass like mine just eating one coating of melted butter.