Know what's funny? A 5'2" somewhat clumsy & accident prone girl carrying a ladder up a bunch of stairs so she can change a light bulb and air filter up on her 11' ceiling. Not. I managed to scrape up my walls in TWO places - the freakin' stairs have a landing & a turn dammit! And of course almost fell numerous times. Geeze.

Ok, moving on. I got my wig busted yesterday and I am constantly amazed at what a bunch of pill-poppers there are in this town! As a sat down, my stylist/cousin gave me a lortab 5. Nice. Down the hatch. Fifteen minutes later the salon owner (also a friend) came by and stuck a lortab 10 in my hand. WTF? Then her mom came in packing bottles and bottles of pills and sold me some z-bars. Until you have bought drugs from a 70 year old black woman in house slippers, in the middle of a beauty salon, well, you just haven't lived. Better living through chemistry babies!
*side note - no, I am not taking the old lady's meds that she needs - she has waaaaaaaaay more than she can take - and shit, she picks up a little extra $$ - for sure mama knew the street value of what she was pushing - it wasn't her first rodeo, as they say 'round here.*

As we continue on the path of new year's self improvement (some would say vanity but that seems so mean spirited), I went to the spa today to have various things done to my face. Some painful, but mostly pleasurable. Whenever, I'm in a spa I try sooooo hard to relax and clear my head. Doesn't ever work. Same thing when I try to meditate of do "slow" yoga. My brain just does not turn off.....drives me crazy. Shoulda eaten one of them there z-bars but forgot - stupid me.

WARNING - the next section will probably offend vegans, PETA members and various other hippies. Read on at your own risk.




So, I live in a rural/agrarian area as I have mentioned several times. There is a LOT of hunting here. And it is deer season. This equals lots of dead deer. I am friends with a couple chefs. I have a super nice kitchen. What does all this lead to, you may ask. Well - it leads to someone asking me if they can use my oven to roast off the head of a doe. "Tete du Biche" for our frenchie friends.
Now, I am not a squeamish person - I am also a die-hard omnivore and pretty damn culinarily adventurous - so, I said yes. I will try pretty much anything food-wise. (I'm talking real food here people, not some Fear Factor horse rectum/hissing cockroach bullshit) However, this wasn't good. It took until midnight to finish cooking and I was pretty damn drunk by the time we tried it. The flavor was fabulous - but, it was like chewing the bottom of your shoe. A really great tasting shoe. So, yeah, I did that. Ate the face of a pretty little mammal. Bambi's mommy, even. And I don't care. So there.

Being the freak that I am, I had to play with the head & take pics before we cooked it. Here's my favorite. I think it is pretty:





And that is all for today. If you are in any way offended by the dead deer - shut the fuck up! I don't want to hear it! I warned you, fool!