Last call

This is your last chance for Krimpets. If you still want to try them ....email me at nejyerf@hotmail.com

For all of those who responded to my offer….just to give you a heads up….I’m real good on promising packages, but bad on sending them out in a timely manner. But I’ll do my level best.

I hope when you get your Krimpet that it is everything you thought it would be.

Tastykake should give me a commission!!

And since I’m all about snack love this week….. NJaney, if you are reading this….I DO have a cheesy salty snack for you. Email me your address and I’ll send a package out to you.

Oh and before I forget…..last week we ordered the Domino’s Oreo pizza.

Bad mistake.

It tasted like cardboard. I was SO very disappointed.

I soothed my injured tastebuds with real Oreos with the orange icing.

one time offer

I am happy to report that there have been no recent incidences of animals both dead or alive in my home since last week.

I believe the squirrel was brought into the house as a protest against the current cat food.

Tom has switched up the cat food from Science Diet to Iams and the cats are unhappy and aren’t afraid to show it.

At long last I am going to introduce the uninitiated to the lovely snack known as the Krimpet. A Tale of a Tastykake Original In the summer of 1927, Tastykake bakers developed a recipe for a new finger-sized snack cake. The new cake tasted delicious but it fell apart when the bakers picked it up. To solve this problem, the baking tins were “krimped” to produce a cake that was easier to hold,and the rest is history.


Quick story:

Growing up in central Pennsylvania, the Philadelphia Phillies were the team to root for.

I don’t mention this to my husband especially since right now the Mets and the Phillies are neck and neck in the pennant race.

My dad used to watch the games on TV but listen to Harry Callas call the game on the radio. Inextricably entwined are the memories of summer evenings listening to Harry say, in his made for radio voice “struck him out” followed by the commercial for TastyKake.

“Nobody bakes a cake as tasty as a tastykake (tastykake)”

I wish I could find the jingle for you hear. It was such an innocuous little jingle and yet I remember it to this day.

If you read Janet Evanovich, Stephanie Plum often eats butterscotch Krimpet’s after a hard day’s bounty hunting.

So here’s my offer….if you too would like to try the butterscotchy, sponge cakiness that is a Krimpet, I will be more than happy to send you a sample.

Just email me your address to nejyerf@hotmail.com and I will send a package out to you.
Because I honestly don’t think that you should go through life not knowing what a Krimpet tastes like.

If you DON’T want a Krimpet (and really who doesn’t) but still would like a note from Jen the Giant Fearless Snake Killer email your address anyway and I’ll send you some love.

it's animal kingdom up in here

Happy Friday to me.

This morning I was awakened by my husband’s panicked cry of, “SHIT, I’m going to be late, the cats’ didn’t wake me”

Apparently, the cats come in and wake him up every morning.

But not today.

Today they were too busy stalking and killing Mr. Grey Squirrel.

And I know this because when I went downstairs this morning, I was treated to the sight of the limp, lifeless form of a dead squirrel lying on my living room floor. And if that’s not bad enough, next to it was an unsightly lump of cat vomit.

I’m not exactly sure why there was vomit.

Did the cats’ try to eat their prey and found that raw squirrel this early in the morning too rough on their delicate, Iams fed palates?

Or did they vomit after the excitement of the kill?

In any event, I was simply too aggravated with our worthless cats and quite frankly a bit skeeved out to pick up the dead beastie.

So I left all evidence of the carnage behind and went to work.

Tom will take care of it when he gets home.

I know, I know, Jen the Giant Fearless Snake Killer, overcome by a dead squirrel and a little cat vomit. She's not so fearless after all.

My only consolation is that they didn’t take their victim and hide it under the bed to rot like they did with the mouse.

Onward and upwards my friends, onward and upwards.

time for a tag

It's hump day and as such, I'm going to do a tag:

I usually avoid tags like the plague, but Dana appealed to my vanity by complimenting my writing, so the very least I can do is reciprocate by doing the tag.

Luckily, this is one of those tags that forces a person to admit strange things about themselves.

So here goes, prepare to be shocked, awed, disgusted, repelled and yet strangely attracted….

Eight random facts/habits about me.


1) I like murder mystery books. The more gore the better. I used to like romance novels, but over the course of 13 years of married life, my eyes have been opened and I have realized that the definition of love and romance is being able to read your murder mystery book in solitude while your true love is downstairs watching football.



2) I like to pluck errant chin hairs. As a matter of fact, right now I'm sitting at my computer, plucking away between sentences.



3) I clip my toe-nails while sitting on the edge of the bed. Which in turn, means that
I will have occasion to remove a toe-nail clipping that has become embedded in the sole of my bare foot.

4) Sometimes when I tell someone they are in my prayers, I never really pray for them. I just say it to be nice at the time. I’m thinking I 'm going to hell for this one.



5) I haven't worn my engagement and wedding rings in years. My fingers got too fat and I didn't think I would ever get them off again. Then I lost a little weight and with copious amounts of hand lotion,I managed to get them off. Why don't I get them made bigger you ask? Probably for the same reason why I'm keeping a pair of size 8 jeans from college....because some day I'm going to fit into them again. Don't laugh...it COULD happen.


6) I don't like vegetables. Never have, never will. Raw carrots and celery makes my lips get all tingly and puffy and I start to wheeze if i eat too many of them. Peeling potatoes also makes me sneeze and wheeze. Why oh why couldn't I be allergic to oreos and butterscotch krimpets?



7) The last time I wore make-up was in May when I went to my sister-in-law's college graduation. Please refer to below photo.







8) I think I suffer from reverse anorexia, I put on an outfit and think to myself, you're looking pretty svelte in this outfit. But a picture is worth a thousand words. Please refer again to picture to the right. I'm having my picture taken, the least I could have done was suck in the gut don't you think?

I wanna be great like elvis but without the tassels....

I don’t like Nickelback.

There, I said it.

So sue me.

I think they are hacks.

Having said that, I LOVE their “Rockstar” song.

I listen to it repeatedly. Volume turned up as loud as I dare in my cubicle. Bobbing my head in time to the beat, like a geek.

“hey, hey I wanna be a rockstar”

barbara walters eat your heart out

The following is an interview held earlier this morning (in my head):

Internet Reporter: Good morning fellow Internets, I’m sitting here with Jen, The Giant Fearless Snake Killer.

IR: Good morning Jen, The Giant Fearless Snake Killer. Exactly how did you come by this name? There is some speculation that you didn't actually kill the snake that you found in your bedroom.

Jen: That is a completely false allegation. While I didn’t kill the snake with my bare hands, I most certainly did let him sit out in the hot sun and bake. And before you ask, I did NOT eat him. That was an attempt at humor

IR: I understand that you had a run-in with yet another of our outdoor friends?

Jen: Yes!! This morning I captured and released a wee frog that had mistakenly hopped into our living room. Little did he know that he wandered into the domain of Jen the Giant Fearless Snake Killer.

IR: Surely you jest!?

Jen: Nope, I assure you that I do not take matters of amphibian home invasion lightly

IR: How did this frog get into your house?

Jen: That matter is under investigation. We have two suspects, who we believe may have been accomplices in allowing the frog to enter the domicile. [Dig me and my cop-speak. Too many hours watching Law & Order!]

IR: Are you at all concerned that PETA may bring you under investigation for the unwarranted cruelty to animals in regards to your leaving the snake in the sun to die a brutal and unnecessary death?

Jen: PETA can kiss my ass. THEY didn't have a snake invade the sanctity of their bedroom at 7:30 in the morning.

IR: This whole story has made me shiver and the thought of eating a snake makes me gag.

Jen: Then my work here is done.

IR: Thank you for your time today, Jen “The Giant Fearless Snake Killer and Releaser of Wee Frogs”.

Jen: It has been my pleasure. Please tell your reading audience that if they need snakes killed or frogs released I’m their girl.

IR: Tune in next week when we discuss the cave crickets that are lurking in the dark, dank recesses of Jen's basement and how Jen plans to call in the professionals to remove them. An infestation of this magnitude is too much for even Jen "TGFSKAROWF" talents.

And now let's take some calls from our listeners.....
(i totally stole this idea from mannyed. why didn't i think of this first???)

Jen - The Giant Fearless Snake Killer

When last we met, I was nearly incoherent with fear over the snake that had wriggled its way under my dresser.

To pick up where I left off....

I called my husband to inform him of our reptilian interloper.

Below is a recap of the conversation:

Brringg, Brringgg (that's the telephone)

Voice on the other end: Good Morning, Garden Center, Tom speaking

Jen (in a state of near hysteria): THEREISASNAKEINTHEHOUSE!!!

Tom: What are you talking about?

Jen: There is a snake in the bedroom and it crawled under the dresser.

Tom: One of the cats probably brought it in.

Jen: It’s not very big, maybe 6” but still…….

Jen: How did it get upstairs?

Jen: Maybe there is a nest of them? Hiding under the bed. Or up in the boxsprings.

Jen: I can’t live in this house anymore. We’re going to have to move

Tom (very calm and rational): We'll talk about it when we get home.

Jen: Ok, bye

Please note that at no time did my husband offer to leave work and drive the nearly 20 miles back to our house in order to capture the snake and allay his beloved's fears. He knows I'm a tough-girl

After that irrational phone call, I went downstairs to take my shower, keeping my eyes peeled for any other snakes.

While in the shower, I decided that I would put my fears to the side and capture this snake if it was the last thing I would do. So on my way back upstairs, I detoured into the kitchen where I picked up a pair of tongs (you’ll see what they are for in just a minute) .

After getting dressed and watching for the snake the entire time, I girded my loins and moved the dresser, wholly anticipating a herd of snakes to come wriggling out.

Nothing, I did however, find three rubber hair bands, a button, the brush attachment to my hairdryer and my tweezers that went missing months ago.

Then I picked up an empty walmart bag (with the tongs) and do I really need to go into why I would keep an empty wal-mart bag behind my dresser? As I picked up the bag, out flew the beastly creature.

He was making a mad dash for the safe refuge underneath the dresser. But Jen, the Giant Fearless Snake Killer, managed to stomp on him. All the while, yelling at the long of her lungs.. “DIE, DIE, DIE”

Imagine my dismay when I discovered that stomping on a snake in sneakers on plush carpeting will not kill a snake, as a matter of fact it will barely even stun them.

He was escaping.

So I stomped on him again. This time a little bit of his pointy snake head was squirming out from underneath my shoe. I bent down (this is where the tongs come into play), plucked him up and deposited him into the purple, plastic waste can standing by for just this purpose.

Then I stood and watched as he frantically tried to escape. But the waste can was too smooth and all he could do was wriggle fruitlessly in the bottom of the can.

Holding the can with outstretched arms, I gingerly made my way downstairs and out to the back deck where I set the beast free to be snakelike with all his other snake buddies.

I kid you.

I let that vile creature sit in the baking sun all day to be fried into a snake-crisp.

And then I ate him..... with fava beans and a nice Chianti.

The End

"Enough is enough! I have had it with these motherfucking snakes on this motherfucking plane"

This morning, as I was lying in bed bemoaning the fact that I had to get up soon, I was formulating a blog in my mind.

I was going to thank all you lovely internets for your suggestions for Robbie’s cat pee situation. And NO, NJaney, I don’t think she’s going to go for tossing the cat as the solution!

Then I was going to bitch a little bit about my sister-in-law. Not Jenny. (Stop by and say hello!) The other one. You remember her. The whole ashes in the cocktail sauce container thing? I won’t go into THAT again. But just know that she is aggravating me. I’ll save that for another day.

Then I was going to finish out my post with an explanation about krimpets and how much I love them and how you can learn to love them too.

But all of this fell by the wayside…..

Upon arising from my bed, I put on my glasses and grabbed my robe in preparation to going downstairs for my shower. As I rounded the foot of the bed, I spied what I thought was a piece of black string on the floor. When I bent down to pick up the piece of string it moved.

Correction.

It slithered..

That’s right, folks.

It was a SNAKE.

A SNAKE in my BEDROOM. A snake that slithered right under my dresser, presumably to take up permanent residence.

Where did it come from?

How did it get up the stairs?

Did the cats bring it in?

Now granted it was maybe 6” or so. But still.

It was a SNAKE.

I can’t live in this house anymore.

We are going to have to move.

meow

Yesterday my friend Robbie told me a sad, sad tale about her cat, a suitcase and feline incontinence.

Yes folks…her cat peed in her suitcase. Her PACKED suitcase.

Why did her cat do such a thing? Ours is not to question why cats do anything. Ours is merely to clean up the mess.

Robbie asked me how to clean the suitcase.

My response?

Throw it out. Toss it. Eighty-six it.

Buy a new suitcase. And turn the peed in one into a litter box. Because that is all it’s good for now.

But perhaps I’m being too hasty?

What do you think? Is it possible to save the suitcase? She says it’s Samsonite. Part of a set. The biggest one.

Any and all suggestions will be taken under advisement.

labor day recap

Labor Day turned out to be a day of labor for me.

Since we were hosting the fantasy football draft, of course we had to feed the drafters.

My uninspired menu consisted of:

Hamburgers
Hot dogs
3 – cheese macaroni and cheese
barbequed baked beans
broccoli slaw oh so good and NO mayo
3 kinds of mini-cheesecakes (strawberry, cherry and blueberry) – which I forgot to put out until too late so now I’m saddled with 20+ wee cheesecakes
various other nibbly things.

I can say with confidence that everyone left with full bellies and so far, no reports of food-poisoning.

Regarding the draft itself, my husband pulled the #1 out of the hat and got to be the first to make a pick.

Much to everyone’s surprise he chose Steven Jackson, a running back for the St. Louis Rams as his first round pick.

When asked why he didn’t pick the heavily favored LaDainian Tomlinson his explanation was two-fold: LT has a new coach and has a hard, 14-2 schedule. We’ll see if he is right as the season unfolds!!

In other, husband related news, he spent his 40th birthday very quietly. He did some much needed landscaping around the house and we went to Cracker Barrel for lunch – I had a gift card.

Sunday, his friends Jay and Flounder (fraternity pledge name) took him out to celebrate. My dearly beloved husband left with $200 in his pocket. He returned with approximately $3 in his pocket. The girls at the “Bada Bing”? Their G-strings were approximately $197 heavier! Although the drinks weren't cheap either.