Self-Indulgent Salad

I suspect the upcoming New Year's Grieve holiday means that very few folks will be reading blogs over the weekend, so I'm letting my unprecedented self indulgence take over. I'm going to write about what I damn well feel like.

Not that I don't do that anyway, my pretties, but I'm adding an extra heaping of "it's all about me" today.

Wait. Not true. Part of it is about Glynnis and Hot Sauce Flo Dad who got engaged last night. It's a beautiful thing. It's their special occasion, so I'll let them shine, but you can bet your bippy details will be forthcoming.

Next, I would like to talk about the personal training appointment I had with Troy this morning. Troy's arms were as big as my head, and he touched my boob.

"So, you'd like an extra routine to strengthen the muscles right there?" he said and touched three beefy fingers to the top of my breast to make sure he isolated the area.

"Um, yeah," I stammered. "I have a muscle in my underpants that I want to work on, too." He didn't buy it.

My Step-Mom, Paula, informed me that we're having a birthday party for my Dad in January. This should be fun. No smarmy comments here—I'm really looking forward to it.

Next, I made ham salad, which I believe is a Southern delicacy. Maybe it's a Northern delicacy. Well, it's singularly well-loved somewhere in the Continental United States, which is more than I can say for K Fed. I've lived too many places, and they all run together, but ham salad is one of those things that I'm a little ashamed to admit I like. Much like corned beef hash, bologna, bratwurst and playing board games.

You simply take leftover ham, chop it in a food processor, add mayo (fat free) and sweet pickle relish. Traditionally, it's served on ultra-gooey, glutinous white bread, but I compromise and get the lowest quality wheat bread that I can. Ham salad = Jesus loves you.

Did you know there are people in this world who don't like Rachel Ray? I mean, I don't lurve her, but she does some clever culinary tricks, no? I'll grant you that her wardrobe is not so clever, but I'll bet she's good in bed, none the less.

Michael Jackson's Human Nature is the best song ever.

In the Comments Section, send your well wishes and congratulations to Glynnie and Hot Sauce Flo Dad for a wonderful engagement.