Mike sent this to me. The photo is entitled, "What to wear when your wife has chores for you." At first, I didn't see it. Then I examined the photo a little closer. What do you see?
MoGilly's Got Mail
Good Thursday morning!
Whew! Just got through painting the center so I can have my final walk-through tomorrow. Did I mention there was no air conditioning? And it's New Mexico. In July.
Genius me told the power company to shut off the electricity on the 31st. Of course, I was thinking close of business on the 31st. The power company, however, not on the same page.
I am truly disgusting right now. Even the dogs won't come near me. I will post more later but, first, I need a cold shower and an IV. And not necessarily in that order.
Breaking News...July 30, 2008
Casey Anthony: Portrait of a Concerned Mother
Love her or hate her, Omarosa plays her role well
The myth of moderate exercise
31 ways to prevent cancer
Extreme Home Makeover's biggest home ever going into foreclosure
Estate of the day
Pregnant prostitution ring gets busted - say whaaaat?
Nasty! Giant python population on the rise in the southern U.S.
MoGilly's Got Mail - Death Star Cafeteria
Mike sent this to me and it's one of the funniest things I've seen in a long time. Liberal use of the f-word so consider yourself forewarned.
A Companion Piece for the Post Below...
Mike was looking up info on Corgi breeds over the weekend and came across this video on YouTube. Enjoy!
As I was saying...
To follow up - Here's some more news. Saturday night I get a call from my friend Penny. She tells me there's a chihuahua corgi mix that's getting the sleepy-sleep on Monday if he doesn't get adopted this weekend. I said where and when and the next thing you know...
Meet "Radar" (we're not firm on the name). He's the white dog on the left. Willis, of course, is the little black chihuahua in Mike's lap that we got from the shelter a month ago.
Now, I must confess, I'm not certain about my feelings for Radar. Mike and I have been toying with the name Sir Pissant (pronounced Piss Aunt) because he seems to have no qualms about pissing all over my house. He pissed in the corner in the kitchen. He pissed on my potted plants in the dining room. And last night, he pissed on the books beside my bed. That hurt.
He's a really sweet dog and after two days of Willis antagonizing him every minute, he's settling in quite nicely. But his bladder control issues are a problem. And on top of that, he's pooped on my carpet, puked on my floor and, just today, shredded my mini-blinds when I left him alone in the house, sans humans.
Right now, he's curled up against me. And he's snoring.
If he wasn't so gosh darn cute he'd be outta here!
Probably.
The MoGilly Minute
Okay, so as most of you know, I've been on the lookout for a J.O.B.
Begrudgingly.
I've applied with Staples. I've applied with Wells Fargo. I've applied with JCPenny. All jobs I hope to God I don't get a call back on. Well, maybe Staples would be okay--I do love me some office supplies! So, as I'm perusing the internet in search of something that I could possibly endure, I come across the PERFECT job for me. At least, I think it could be.
Are you ready for this (drum roll please)...it's a newspaper reporter! Yes, yes, I know--it's not as glamorous as selling junior apparel and I'm not likely to get the high I get when I see fashion decorated binder clips, but it's interesting and it's writing and one can only hope for a scandal. That's what I miss about my hometown, so deliciously scandalous!
Anywho, I worked on my cover letter yesterday and will be applying a little panache to the ol' resume today. So fingers crossed!
Got more news for ya, but just got a phone call and have to run out for a bit.
Mogilly's Got Mail
Got this one from the hubby.
An American golfer playing in Ireland hooked his drive into the woods.
Looking for his ball, he found a little Leprechaun flat on his back, a
big bump on his head and the golfer's ball Beside him.
Horrified, the golfer got his water bottle from the cart and poured it
over the little guy, reviving him.
'Arrgh! What happened?' the Leprechaun asked.
'I'm afraid I hit you with my golf ball,' the golfer says.
'Oh, I see. Well, ye got me fair and square. Ye get three wishes, so
whaddya want?'
'Thank God, you're all right!' the golfer answers in relief. 'I don't
want anything. I'm just glad you're OK, and I apologise.' And the
golfer walks off.
'Wha! ta nice guy,' the Leprechaun says to himself. I have to do
something for him. I'll give him the three things I would want.....a
great golf game, all the money he ever needs, and a fantastic sex life.'
A year goes by and the American golfer is back. On the same hole, he
again hits a bad drive into the woods and the Leprechaun is there
waiting for him.
'Twas me that made ye hit the ball here,' the little guy says. 'I just
want to ask ye, how's yer golf game?'
'My game is fantastic!' the golfer answers. I'm an internationally
famous golfer now.' He adds, 'By the way, it's good to see you're all
right.'
'Oh, I'm fine now, thankye. I did that fer yer golf game, you know.
And tell me, how's yer money situation?'
'Why, it's just wonderful!' the golfer states. 'When I need cash, I
just reach in my pocket and pull out $100.00 bills I didn't even know
were there!!
'I did that fer ye also And tell me, how's yer sex life?'
The golfer blushes, turns his head away in embarrassment, and says
shyly, It's OK.'
'C'mon, c'mon now,' urged the Leprechaun, 'I'm wanting to know if I did
a good job. How many times a week?'
Blushing even more, the golfer looks around then whispers, 'Once,
sometimes twice a week.'
'What??' responds the Leprechaun in shock. 'That's all? Only once or
twice a week?'
'Well,' says the golfer, 'I figure that's not bad for a Catholic priest
in a small parish.'
Okay, So Here's What's Up
Sorry I haven't posted but the Today show called and they're doing a segment on blogging and they flew me out to New York and I met with Matt Lauer (he's totally cute) and then I had lunch with Meredith Vierra and she said 'Girl, you're so funny!' And I said, "No, YOU are." And then we laughed and laughed. And then Kathie Lee showed up and the margaritas started flowing...
Okay, that's a lie.
So here's what's been happening. Mike told me this weekend, in no uncertain terms, that I have to get a job. A 9-5. So basically he told me to go to Hell. For so long I've ignored these demands but he was pretty serious this weekend. So, I've half-heartily acquiesced.
You'd think that after 15 years of marriage he'd know how to approach me with this conversation a little better. But, no, he came in the room and said, "You're not going to like this..." And you see, just by typing that, my heart stopped a little. Don't approach me with "you're not going to like this" because now I have a split second to prepare myself to fight whatever you have to say. So he opens with the "you're not going to like this" and closes with "you need to get a job." So I'm immediately thrown into fight or flight status and come back with, "You need to get out of my face." And the conversation kind of went down hill from there.
The conversation probably would not have escalated so quickly had he not previously mentioned that he's getting deployed--again. So I have all these little side projects going on, the kids are going to have to go back into a school system I detest, my nights are going to be filled with hours upon hours of useless, mind-numbing homework assignments and however many hours of sports activities, and my mornings are going to be spent separating two boys who are constantly at each other's throats because one of them isn't a morning person. I don't know how he expected that conversation to go down but never, ever start something with "you're not going to like this" because I can guarantee you, you're right!
So what it all boils down to is that if we can apply $900 extra dollars a month to our bills, we'll be debt free in 2 years - just in time for us to move back to Colorado. And because I want to live in downtown Colorado, we have to get rid of that debt in order to qualify for the amount of loan we'll need.
If my husband knew anything about me, he would have approached me with some really cool loft listings from the Denver MLS, get me all excited about them and then say, "All we need to do to qualify for this place is pay off our debt before we leave here." And then I'll be like, "let's do it." And then he'll say, "we need to find $900 more each month." And I'll be like, "I'll call around and see what I can do." Do you see how that gets the conversation going and I'm actively participating? There's no fight. No battles. It's the same conversation, different approach.
So for the past couple of days I've been job hunting. And there are lots of jobs in this po-dunk town, if you've had any vocational training. Which, I have not. Medical transcriptionist? Yup, the hospital is hiring. Court reporter? Apply at the court house. X-ray technician? Gerald Champion needs you.
Got a 4-year degree in Business Management? Wal-Mart is hiring. For $6.15 per hour.
I'm seriously considering topless massage. That, or, I hear Staples is hiring.
TGIF!
TGIF, man! Not that it really matters to me, since I am officially unemployed. Finished up with the last tutoring client yesterday. So, I'm back to the center today to paint and clean up. Should be all done by next Friday.
Busily working away on getting some income-generating websites up and running so that I'm not forced to go back to "working for the man." I just don't have it in me. :-)
So what's up with you, my little 9-5ers? Anything you wish to share?
The MoGilly Archives - The Great Prognosticator
I've been writing for many years now. Actually started when I was kid. But this article is one of my favorites. It's a favorite because it was the first time Mike realized I had a bit of talent. And, more importantly, it was the way in which Mike came to this realization that I cherish the most.
You see, I sent several articles to the base paper at Vandenberg AFB in California where we were stationed. I sent several sample articles along with a patriotic article and it was the patriotic article that I was really expecting to get published. But that's not what happened.
A day or so after I sent the articles in, I got a response from the editor saying she loved one of my articles in particular and was going to run with it. I was thrilled.
Mike, maybe not so much.
See, Mike didn't know I was writing. Let alone, sending my writing out for possible publication. This is how he found out--
Picture it: A military base. A training session. A room full of some of the brightest minds in the Air Force. Rocket scientist type guys. There's a test in progress and in the front of the classroom sits an instructor...with a base paper.
As Mike tells it, his instructor started to chuckle. His shoulders started to heave. He then lost all control and was laughing hysterically with tears streaming down his face. He said, "Oh this is too good." And then he said, "Tillyer! Get up here!"
Yes, he called Mike up to the front of the class and asked him, "Do you know what your wife has been doing?" Mike did not. The instructor handed Mike the newspaper and said, "Read it." Mike started to skim the page. His instructor said, "Aloud."
This is what Mike read before his class.
=============================
Prognosticate vb: to foretell from signs or symptoms
I've always thought of myself as somewhat of a prognosticator, a careful, considered person. The kind of gal who looks ahead, makes educated decisions, and then proceeds with caution. My husband, Mike, on the other hand, is more of a fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants kind of guy. To him, I am merely an obsessive-compulsive control freak, afraid of my own shadow.
But Mike is wrong.
I've told him he's wrong and I will continue to tell him he's wrong until he realizes the error in his thinking.
Our personalities have often conflicted over the years but it is due to my careful consideration that I have concluded my self-righteous nagging and unending caution stems directly from my slight dependency on primetime news shows. I'm constantly cataloging, retaining, and rehearsing the information.
Halogen lights cause fires? Consider the light gone.
This move will take a mugger down? I'll just have Mike attack me until I master it.
"You realize," he said to me one day as he held me in a choke hold, "You're about one 20/20 or 48 Hours away from having to be committed."
"Mike," I said, flipping him over my shoulder. "I'm not crazy. I'm cautious. There's a difference. I want to know how to get out of a burning plane. I want to know how to escape with my children should I ever drive my car into a lake. These are things a person should know."
His response? My new-found knowledge was scaring the children.
It's not my intent to scare my kids. I simply want them to think. I believe it's imperative to their development that they learn the skill of evaluating consequences early in life. If this skill is not mastered in youth, the deficiency will be evident in adulthood.
Case in point: The other day was a warm one here so Mike purchased a Slip N Slide. My son, Matthew, and I watched as he stretched the plastic over a small hill in the backyard.
"Mike, " I said, "the directions say you need to stretch it out over a flat area."
"Yeah, I know," he replied, "but this way, they'll have a pool of water at the end they can slide into."
I looked at my son Matthew; he returned my look with a shrug.
"Okay, but, Mike don't you think there's a reason, maybe, why they specifically said a flat area?"
"Woman!" he snapped. "Who's doing this?"
Understanding that was a rhetorical question, I shut my mouth and took a seat.
Mike turned on the water and watched as it trickled down the sheeting, pooling at the bottom. He clearly didn't see what Matthew and I saw but, as instructed, we said nothing.
Moments later, Mike tore off his shirt and announced, "Prepare to be amazed at my lightning speed."
"Go for it, Flash," I retorted.
He took a few steps back a made a running leap.
And yes, Mike was right; we were amazed.
We were amazed at the reverberation of his screams as the dry plastic ripped the skin off his alabaster belly. We were amazed at how the glorified yellow slick of plastic had wrapped around him so tightly, he looked like a giant banana. And we were amazed he was able to lift his head from the pool of water, spit out a mouth full of grass and debris and sputter, "Molly, do not say a word. Not one word."
I let out a low whistle and shook my head.
"You know," I leaned over and whispered to my son as Mike attempted to detangle from his cocoon, "this is exactly what I've been talking about."
"Yup," Matthew replied, nodding slowly in agreement. "I can't believe he didn't see that coming."
And there you have it my friends; the lesson has been learned, the torch has been passed. That's my boy; the next Great Prognosticator.
============================
And there you have it, my peeps. That was the day Mike learned his wife had a bit of a talent for writing. And that was the day my husband became a legend at Vandenberg AFB.
MoGilly's Got Mail
Got this in from my girl, Rachelle, up in Colorado. It's entitled:
How To Tell If You're Mom's Favorite
Things that make you go, hmmmm: My mother named me Molly - which means "bitter, plump, mousy brown-haired girl." I was born on a Wednesday - "Wednesday's child is full of woe". I'm a virgo - known to be "hyper-critical and worriers."
My sister's name means "beloved."
Guess which little bird I am.
Good Monday Morning! Church Signs, Get Your Church Signs!
Hope everyone had a great weekend. This past weekend was my high school reunion and because I didn't go, I've been glued to the reunion site waiting for photos to be uploaded so I can get a glimpse of old friends (and those I just can't stand - yeah, there's a few of them).
So, BFF Misty from high school (one I do like) sent me an email about some church signs. I've included some of them here for your amusement, along with a few extras.
Note to self: Is it irony that I talk about church signs and people I can't stand in the same post?
Whatever.
Here we go. Church signs. These are the messages some witty congregations are putting on their marquees to draw the people in. Which is your favorite? And can you guess some of mine?
Soul food served here.
Under same management for 2000 years.
Don't give up. Moses was once a basket case.
What part of 'Thou Shalt Not' don't you understand?
Can't sleep? Try counting your blessings.
Dysfunctional families welcome - you'll fit right in.
Sign broken: come inside for message
If you're looking for a sign, this is it!
Don't let Jesus catch you riding dirty.
Who wants to be a Christianaire
Our church is like fudge: sweet with a few nuts
Why didn't Noah just swat the two mosquitoes?
Shock your mom - go to church
Happy hour here every Sunday
Read the Bible - it will scare the Hell out of you
Stop drop and roll doesn't work in Hell
Who's your daddy?
Church parking - trespassers will be Baptised
and finally,
Santa Claus never died for anyone
Good Friday Morning!
I have to go into the center today and start painting everything back to white since I'm closing up shop. I'll probably be posting something later this afternoon but by that time most of you will probably be getting off work. Enjoy your weekend!
MoGilly Was Perusing Her Stats Today
So I'm checking out the stats on the blog this morning (because I enjoy seeing where you readers are coming from geographically and how you're finding me online) and I got a visit from someone in Lake Worth, Florida. I'm assuming it's a woman, because the person did the following search on google "How to tell your husband to get a real job."
I thought we should take this opportunity to help her out.
Here's my suggestion: You say, "Honey (or, insert his name here), you need to get a real job!"
I think the direct approach works best. Mike tells me to get a real job all the time. Of course, I pay no attention to him, but, at least there's no pretense and I know exactly where he stands.
So, what would you suggest?
Breaking News...July 9, 2008
Jamie Lynn's baby girl makes her debut
New steamy novel appears to be based on Laura Bush and has tongues wagging in Washington
10 can't-miss summer reads
Registered sex-offender wins lottery
3 weight-loss studies you need to know about
How gas prices are impacting America's suburbs
Crazy, psycho, drunken ex-husband unleashes pit-bull on a 3-year old
Delicious! The real housewives of NYC is coming back and guess who's fighting with who
The Photos are Piling In...
And by piling in I mean I have two so far. Thanks Lo (Lauren) and Angela!
(Two very stylish ladies!)
Just a note - I opened up Lauren's pic just a second ago and I guess I must have said aloud, "How does one get a stomach that flat?" Because, Mike, who was standing over my shoulder, answered, "I would guess one exercises and doesn't drink grande lattes every morning followed by a Big Mac chaser."
One does not like Michael very much.
But I digress, send those pics so we can see who's who and you can be featured in the BFF montage. Send jpegs to mysuburblife@yahoo.com
oh, oh, oh! And if you have a blog or a website you want me to pimp with your pic, let me know.
MoGilly is Working on Another Project
Okay, so as many of you know, I was (the keyword being WAS) running a tutoring service here until, (curses!), the local community college decided to offer FREE tutoring. So there goes my income. For the next few weeks, I'll be closing up shop at the center and really focusing on my writing and my websites - at least until I have to eat or pay the electric bill or something.
Over the weekend I started putting together a plan for a website that will actually generate some income (at least, I hope it does). I'll keep you posted, I'm pretty excited about it.
MoGilly is in a Montage Kind of Mood
It's finally rainy and overcast here in New Mexico - yes, that means it's July. So with the rain and clouds I'm feeling a little crafty. I want to make a montage. And here's what I want -
Photos of you guys. Yes, all you readers out there who lurk in the shadows. You never comment, you never write. But I know you're there.
Yesterday, I saw those of you in my hometown of Oak Ridge pop in. There are folks from New Hampshire; Nevada; Georgia; Canada; Opelika, Alabama - I like saying that, Opelika, Alabama - One more time with a thick southern accent, O-pe-lika, Ala-bam-a; Houston, Tx and Gretna, Lousiana to name a few.
Send me some pictures ya'll. I want to see you in all your eclectic glory and put you to music!
And before you ask, no, clothing is not optional. Cover your shit up.
So c'mon on, send your smiling faces to mysuburblife@yahoo.com and I'll get creating.
Ooh! And leave your song ideas below in the comments section.
Breaking News...July 7, 2008
I Saw it on YouTube - Oak Ridge, TN
Good Monday morning! Hope your 4th was eventful and festive.
This upcoming weekend is my 20-year high school reunion and, yesterday, my BFF Ginger sent me this video about my hometown in an effort to make me nostalgic and persuade me to come in. (But alas, I shall not be in attendance).
So check it out--I don't know anybody in the video, I don't think Ginger knows anybody in the video but, at 2:21 in, there's a scene with a group of teens doing a 3-legged race on what looks like my parents' front yard. Granted, my parents sold the place a couple of years ago, but I swear that's their yard. Amy? Mom? Dad? Is that your old place? What a small world that would be.
Happy 4th!
No postings today. I will be back in business on Monday. Talk to you then.
Have a great weekend! :-)
MoGilly is Patriotic and Proud of It
In honor of the upcoming celebration of our nation's independence, I submit to you an article I wrote 5 years ago that ran in the Los Angeles Times and was picked up by several other California newspapers.
After publication, I received a phone call from a WWII Vet. He had read the article in the LA Times and tracked me down to thank me.
Now, that, was neat.
-----------------------------
PATRIOTIC AND PROUD OF IT
I've tried and I've tried but I can't get it out of my head...
"And the rockets red blare
all the birds in the air..."
Sound familiar?
That was one young man's interpretation of our National Anthem. An interpretation he sang on American Idol; before an audience of 27 million viewers.
"Gave tooth through the plight
that our flag was red still..."
I still cringe thinking about it and I would like to take this opportunity to thank the creators and producers of American Idol for shining that great beacon light on our nation's stupidity.
Call me old fashioned, but I believe if you're going to take the initiative to go before an audience as large as American Idol, and you choose as your audition piece the quintessential American song, our National Anthem, perhaps you should run through it a few times before you make a big ol' American ass of yourself.
Every citizen in this country should know the lyrics to The Star Spangled Banner. He should know the words were penned in 1814 by Francis Scott Key, inspired by the defense of Fort McHenry during the War of 1812. He should know that it wasn't until over a century later, in 1931, when Congress enacted the legislation that made Key's words our National Anthem.
It is embarrassing that at ball games and graduations across this nation, our citizens chat on cell phones, file their nails and chew gum while The Star Spangled Banner plays on.
It is embarrassing that at Olympic events, as the camera spans the crowd, we see some fool with USA painted on his forehead throwing back a big gulp and shoveling a chili dog into his face while the anthems of other nations are broadcast over the loudspeakers. And yet, when it's time for The Star Spangled Banner, the people of those other nations sing in unison, and with enthusiasm, for our nation's song while our aforementioned model citizen mouths the words to whatever pops into his insipid little head.
I don't care about your religious affiliations. I don't care what you think about our political leaders, the current state of our nation, or the role of our military in foreign affairs. I'm talking about respect. Pure and simple respect for the millions of men and women who signed on the dotted line and promised to defend.
I'm talking about respect for the mothers, fathers, sons and daughters, husbands, wives and friends who worry about their loved one putting his or her life on the line so that you and your grandchildren, and your grandchildren's grandchildren, can have a better life.
I've lived most of my adult life on a military base. And I will tell you that at five o'clock, The National Anthem plays over the loudspeakers and cars pull over to the side of the road and children stop playing in the yard and turn to face the flag with their hand over their heart. And they sing. And I like that.
And if you go to the movies on a military base, before the previews begin, the curtain opens, the audience rises and the room comes to attention. And on the big screen the flag waves and the anthem plays. And there is a reverence in the air. And I like that.
Respect is what I'm talking about, people. Respect for your country, respect for its citizens and respect for yourself.
When you hear your anthem play, you stand at attention and put your hand over your heart. If you're wearing a hat, you take it off your head and that hat goes over your left shoulder, right hand over your heart.
I want you to hear the words of your national anthem. I want you to feel the words. And by God, I want you to know the words of your national anthem, regardless of whether or not you choose to sing those words.
The Star Spangled Banner is a story of our nation's history. It is a story of a battle that raged through the night. The battle for Fort McHenry. The British vs. the Americans.
Francis Scott Key was present during the battle for Fort McHenry because he was an attorney negotiating the release of a prisoner of war, Dr. William Beanes. Beanes was an elderly friend of the Key family who had been taken from his home and was being held captive aboard a British ship in the Chesapeake Bay.
The Doctor's release was eventually granted but the Americans were not permitted to leave as the bombardment on Fort McHenry was under way.
Key stood aboard the British ship on the evening of September 13, 1814, watching the rockets red glare and the bombs bursting in air. He knew as long as the shelling continued, Fort McHenry had not been defeated, the Americans had not surrendered.
But long before daylight, came a sudden and unsettling silence. Key waited, apprehensive, all through the night.
When daylight finally came, the British were gone, the British had retreated. And high above Fort McHenry, OUR flag was still there.
Key was so inspired, he hastily wrote a few poetic lines on the back of an envelope.
Ladies and gentlemen, this is the first of four stanzas from Francis Scott Key's poem, The Defense of Fort M'Henry. It is only the first stanza that we sing as our national anthem.
Oh! say, can you see, by the dawn's early light,
What so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last gleaming?
Whose broad stripes and bright stars, through the perilous fight,
O'er the ramparts we watched were so gallantly streaming?
And the rocket's red glare, the bombs bursting in air,
Gave proof thro' the night that our flag was still there.
Oh! say, does that star-spangled banner yet wave,
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave?
I hope that the next time The Star Spangled Banner plays, you sing these words. And you listen to the meaning behind these words. And you think of the lives that have been sacrificed so that you may continue to live in the land of the free and the home of the brave.
--Molly Tillyer
6th generation great niece of Francis Scott Key
NOTE: There are only two copies of Key's original poem that exist today. One is in the Library of Congress. The other had been in my paternal grandmother's family for 93 years until it was sold in 1907 to Henry Walters of Baltimore. In 1934, that copy was purchased from the Walters estate at auction for $26,400. It now resides with the Maryland Historical Society.
MoGilly Gets a Little Deep
Here are a couple of montages I did about this time last year. One gives you a little history about me and a painting I did to express my distaste for the war in Iraq. (Obviously, yet another thing Mike and I disagree on.) The other montage is a tribute I did for my high school reunion site for those who have served and given their life for their country. So turn your speakers up, there's music.
I want to be clear, I'm not opposed to war. I AM, however, opposed to knee-jerk reactions and the politics that gamble with soldiers' lives.
Two months after I made these montages, Mike was deployed to the middle east. Thankfully, he returned safe and sound in February of this year.
He was one of the lucky ones.
Breaking News...July 2, 2008
Woman prostitutes herself for a gas card?!
Supermodel commits suicide by falling to her death
Update on pregnant Angelina Jolie checking into the hospital
This is why you need to relinquish your driver's license at a certain age
Is watermelon the new viagra? (video)
Orlando neighborhood of half-million-dollar homes built on live WWII bomb site - homeowners not happy!
Manhattan real estate is softening so you might be able to pick up a sweet deal. Average apartment is $1.67 million! hahahahahaha - are they kidding?
a motivational weight-loss story in redbook magazine
The slave in the garage - a story of human trafficking from reader's digest
As Promised, Here's the Delicious Spaghetti Sauce Recipe - I Leave You to Figure it Out on Your Own
Estela's Spaghetti
1lb Ground Chuck
1 Tbls Olive Oil
1 Onion (chopped)
1 Bell Pepper (chopped)
1 Garlic Clove (minced)
1 Can of Tomato Paste
2 Cans of Mexican Stewed Tomatoes (Del Monte)
1 tsp Salt
1/4 tsp Black Pepper
1 tsp Italian Seasoning
1 tsp Basil
1 Tbls Brown Sugar
1 Bay Leaf
Brown ground chuck, drain all the excess grease. Add olive oil, onions, garlic and saute until onions are tender. Now add all spices (except for bay leaf) and then the tomato paste and stewed tomatoes. Last add the sugar and bay leaf. Let it come to a boil then turn it down to low, cover and let it simmer for about 3 hours or more. ENJOY!
Regarding Yesterday's Entry...
Mike wanted me to post his response on the front page. So here it is.
This is addressed to me from "Fire Marshall Mike"
You are a "dreamkiller". I will put you and Rachelle over each shoulder at the same time and carry you both out of a burning building. It appears as if you got a pic of me about 2 years ago and posted it next to some goofball on a merry-go-round. (although the guy on the merry-go-round is quite good looking also) Your dreamkilling will not dull my keen sense of community service. The world is secretly rooting for me on this one. Thanks all for your support.
You know what's sad? By "the world" and "all" - he's really just talking about my Dad.
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