Scratchy Glitter

Observations for the easily irritated.

Tag: Food and Related Products

Crisis Averted

You must excuse any typos because I’m pretty drunk right now. Nick, you may avert your gaze.


Disclaimer: Drunk enough to make many typos, sober enough to correct them.

Who would have thought I’d ever be popular enough to reserve a whole room at Hacienda? (Notice: Let’s see how well I do at Chuck E. Cheese on Sunday.) The most decadent thing I did was get chip crumbs in my hair–hardly a match for Easter Vigil at St Boniface, where I got hot wax on my hand and holy water in my eye–and I got tipsy enough to think sending Nick a picture of me with a drink in my hand was a good idea (though it wasn’t that bad an idea {disclaimer–I meant to do italics for “bad” rather than boldface, but I’m drunk, so suck it}, since I wasn’t driving).

There was no question of any sort of singing, since we were SO LOUD anyway. {Non-disclaimer: I have resumed this post several hours later and am now sober, which makes it much easier.} I was very pleased to see several former colleagues who had gone on to greener pastures (I guess the sewer department might produce greener pastures, for one). It is worthy of note that, in spite of this being a Mexican restaurant, A Certain Person had a burger covered with loathsome vegetables and a huge pile of fries. I had two of their wonderful strawberry daiquiris, the  most painless way to get alcohol into your body there is, but, combined with the large quantity of food I consumed, they just made me sleepy. I went home and dozed off mid-rosary on the couch, which sounds like some kind of retirement cliche.

Nick’s owner assured me he was sorry for his absence and would make it up to me somehow, both of which he loftily denied.

Now it’s time to shower, and I need to remove nail polish first, so I must go.

Day 21 (Sounds Like I’m Serving A Sentence, Doesn’t It?)

S.G.’S 20TH POST, 4/21/13: The Relation of Sweet-Talking to @ss-Kicking

Pretty much what it says, which is why I didn’t bring it up yesterday. In retrospect, though, the illustration featured an old poster exhorting bakers–“We can’t win this war without the baked goods you provide!” I figured it would lift Rom’s morale.

S.G.’S 21ST POST, 4/23/13: Theater of Cruelty: I Apologize to Nick and Six Other People

–It is revealed that I was supposed to know that Nick’s offhand comment about going to Canton Inn meant he was offering to bring us all food. Therefore, neither I nor my co-workers got any, because I did not understand this. He did not yet know how literal you have to be with me. Giving me specific directions is also helpful, as Rom has learned.

–This post also marked the birthday of the great & glorious RABECCA. The illustration in her honor featured a stir-fry, captioned with the remarkable words, “Uploaded to Wikipedia to showcase baby corn.”


–“Caller was informed that getting to the mall is not an emergency.”

For some reason, my co-workers tonight felt inspired to tell their personal food-poisoning vomit stories. I have one, but Steak & Shake/St Louis/mid-70’s is all I’m going to say.

I’m Jumpin’ Jeanne Flash


–Went to vote, knocked my head on the top of the booth, which made the side panel fall over, which knocked the stylus out of my hand. Went on to select leaders for my community, most of whom didn’t win.

–Went to McDonald’s, prudently pushed my hair out of the way of my hot fudge sundae, failed to notice that fudge had dripped down the side of the container and gotten on my fingers, ended up with a surprising amount of hot fudge in my eyebrow, which I did not discover until several people had had a chance to see it. Luckily, my brows are black, so maybe they didn’t see it.


–A small child being told that “I go potty!” is a  more acceptable thing to say than “I go poopie!,” but that neither of those is really suitable to yell at the top of one’s lungs in a public place.

–A tableful of retired guys opining on the subject of police take-home cars. They were agin it. “I can see it for a K-9 officer, because he might be called out with the dog. But otherwise, no.” “A police car shouldn’t just be sitting there all night doing nothing.” “With all the cars the department has, they wouldn’t have to be driven around the clock anyway. Saves wear and tear on the cars.” Considering the number of times officers have told me, “I was late getting out on the street because I had to wait for a car,” I suspect the retired gentlemen don’t know how many cars the department actually has. Of course, officers could be making excuses to me, I suppose.

So neither the young nor the old were really pleasing me yesterday. Of course, I’d hit my head on a voting booth. so there you go.


I was momentarily troubled the other day because my broccoli/cheese casserole was on the opposite side of my tray from where Wesselman’s had placed it the last time I’d ordered that item. However, I was able to get on with my life. It wasn’t like the previous day, when a crisis was narrowly averted–I discovered before I left the house that the pants I’d selected were actually black, instead of the navy blue I’d intended. Putting on unplanned pants would have bothered me all day. Asking the fashion question–Is navy blue the same as black? 


A billboard down the street from my house features the sad eyes of a child, but the accompanying writing is tiny and purple on a black background, so you can’t read it unless you’re standing right by it (as opposed to, say, driving by). It says, “Avoiding Eye Contact Is A Possible Sign Of Autism.” Way to keep it a secret!




Two Observations

…because that’s all I have to offer.

–Magazine ad: “You’ve waited all winter for coleslaw.” No I haven’t. I don’t want coleslaw under any circumstances.

–Spotted at the Pet Food Center: “Cat Collar with Breakaway Feature.” Underneath, the Spanish translation read, literally, “Collar of Liberation.” A cat’s life is full of paradoxes.

Some Interesting Stuff I Dug Up

…well, not literally.


Just a reminder that my proposition to ignore you for cash still stands–and isn’t being ignored by me worth a little money? This offer is open to everyone but Nick, who would rather take a beating than be ignored, so we’ll just go with that.


Yes, you heard me right. Sounds like a 60’s psychedelic garage band, doesn’t it? Rom read an article about advanced vending machine technology that has provided custom-built burritos in, I think, Mexico (that would make sense, wouldn’t it?), some other kind of elaborate food in some other exotic place I can’t remember, and live crabs in China (Live Crabs in China–the first album by the Live-Crab Vending Machine. Followed by their live album, Live-Crab Vending Machine Live in China). I find the logistics here fascinating. Are the crabs just hanging out in one big chamber inside the machine, or does each have his/her own separate slot? Can you specify different kinds of crab? And, most important of all, DO THE CHINESE EAT THEM LIVE?


–Sign on a bus: THIS VEHICLE MAKES FREQUENT STOPS. Addressed, I suppose, to those who just fell off a melon truck and don’t know how buses operate.


The Channel 14 weather blog points out that we’re only a third of the way through said winter. I was better off not knowing that.


–Happy New Year signs may remain up for the entire month of January, but no longer. As of February, the year is no longer new. I will grudgingly allow Valentine decorations to go up in mid-January, although it makes you look desperate for a holiday.



Only Slightly

English: ice cream cone in the street

English: ice cream cone in the street (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

The title is courtesy of my (unpaid) publicist Lynbob, describing me as “only slightly twisted.” Yes, and I have integrated myself into society fairly well, or maybe slightly well, but anyway, well enough.

Today at Thornton’s (that place should pay me for advertising–a year of free soft drinks would suffice), ice cream cones were on sale. I considered purchasing one, since Nick had recommended them. (Something I will keep in mind–I may need to try bribing him with ice cream.) But I didn’t, because I wasn’t sure how to operate the machine. And why? Because the instructions were all in pictograms for the illiterate, and I only understand words. (Nick, it’s dangerous to roll your eyes while you’re driving.) I stared at it for some moments, then sadly slipped away.

On the way home, I stopped at the dollar store, in order to ascertain if Suave Daily Clarifying Shampoo was cheaper there or at Walgreen’s. (How many times do I have to tell you–YOU NEED TO KNOW.) On the way out, I spotted a squad car on the lot. Could it be? Yes, the selfsame Nick, who promptly slammed his car door and rolled his window up, lest I whack him on his sensitive snout. I persuaded him to open up (it would have gone faster if I’d had ice cream, I’m sure). So I got to watch him complete an accident report, one of the most exciting parts of police work. He directed me to guard his squad car while he went over to check something on one of the involved vehicles. Of course, I then thought, What will I do if someone does try to steal the car? I guess I’d give them the frowning of a lifetime, and see if that deterred them.

Report finished, he said, “Sure you don’t want to go on a ridealong?” There are few things I’m more sure of. BUT I actually considered agreeing (assuming his offer was genuine–he is a bit of a smartass <== UNDERSTATEMENT OF THE YEAR), because it would be a guaranteed blog post. That’s how devoted I am to You, The Readers. So if a ridealong with Nick ever comes to pass, which I can only imagine happening if I were to lose a bet, I promise to report on it here. I might omit any tears or throwing up, though.

He ended up giving me a ride home. For the whole two blocks I thought, What if he gets a run? I vividly remember being given a ride home by now-Sgt. S.H. and his partner, and them deciding to speed to the aid of another officer. “You can just let me out here first,” I said, and was answered by the click of the car doors locking. Well, then. Luckily, they/we were given a disregard. For a moment there, I almost had an adventure!

Speaking of past adventures, Happy Birthday to Charles Andrew, my oldest friend except for Rom himself. I taunt you with the fact that you missed some truly supernal BBQ. But that’s what you get for gallivanting–and in locales I once knew, no less! It’s hard to be impressed when my high school team is the Webster Statesmen. We will debate you to death! Gotta love the black-and-orange Halloween school colors, too.

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