White Trash Fiesta - a recipe

When I was younger, I often used the term 'White Trash Fiesta' to disdainfully describe an event that was attended (in my opinon) by classless people. Ironically, I was in always in attendance, as well. Example: "How was your cousin's NASCAR theme wedding?" "It was a White Trash Fiesta." Having grown up (as much as one can say that I actually qualify as a grown up) in Oklahoma, this phrase got put to a lot of use. Now, don't get all 'bowed up' (love that phrase, too), you know I love my Okies! Except for the OU fans, and I do tolerate a handful of those just because they are cute and...well...easy to make fun of. :*P Which brings me to White Trash Fiesta - a recipe. I call it this because it brings to mind something that a couple of white trash girls....let's just call them Raylene and Twyla....beacuse, let's face it, that's what their names would be - and what they would whip up (in the double wide kitchen) for an exotic, international style dinner. Yep, they'd serve it up to Bubba and Earl dressed in their Daisy Dukes and listening to some Lynard Skynard. It would be a night to remember. Your guess is as good as mine why on earth the above scenario comes to mind or even amuses me, but it does. Anyway, the recipe is semi healthy, extremely easy and delicious in a very 'unsophisticated palate' kind of way. And you don't have to heat up the double wide on those hot summer nights. And that, my dear, is gittin er dun. Okie style. White Trash Fiesta Iceberg Lettuce Tomato - chopped Avocado - chopped Can of Jalapeno Ranch Style Beans - drained and rinsed Small can of kernel Corn-drained Shredded Cheese Catalina Dressing (lite version is okay) Fritos (tortilla chips can be used, too, but Fritos really make it rock) Mix it all together and serve. Freebird!!!

My Big Adventure

Today I was almost in a car wreck, I was sprayed by oil from a World War II Army plane and I broke a heel. This is what happens when I leave my office and go on client visits! First visit was a Flight Museum. Cool place. Hangars full of Viet Nam and WW II era planes, old cars (even a Delorean -- I wanted to get in and get it up to 88, well of course I did). We got to watch as they started up a World War II era Army plane and took off. The CEO and some board members were going to Ft. Worth for a meeting. Yea...because we all get to go to meetings like that! It splattered oil all over my nice white blouse. Hopefully, it will wash out. This is the underside of the wing of a plane. So pretty!! This is the one they flew to a meeting! Next stop was an insurance company...and then wayyyy up North to a company that makes antimicrobial soil additives and fertilizers. We got to tour their lab. Kinda cool. On to Denton, where a woman in a big SUV decided to turn left in front of me. Thankfully, my car has a great braking system, and I ended up stopping about six inches short of slamming into her. We spotted an old Piggly Wiggly! It was an exciting day and guess what? Tomorrow I'm off to Grand Prairie, Ft. Worth and Grapevine. I wish I could go in an Army plane.

Update on the Sixth Floor Parking Garage

Okay...I know that you've been on pins and needles. It seems that Edward is probably either a) not really sleeping in his car or b) an extremely neat and tidy vampire boy. The blankets/quilts are still there, but I notice they are nicely folded and stacked and look the same each day. You draw your own conclusion. It's more fun that way. And now, Moongrl salutes the "Real Men of Genius" Today, we salute you, "Mr. My Car's an Instant Nightclub" Any man can go out to a nightclub, but it takes a Real Man of Genius to create his own nightclub environment in a parking garage. Standing there, like a babe magnet, you open your car doors and blast your music while smoking a cigarette and instantly, magically, the bland grey cement is transformed into a swanky, sexy cocktail lounge. Takin' the occasional phone call (Yeah, Babe....sorry. I've been busy) and pacing in the little area next to the handicapped space like a caged animal (Grrrr!), as you watch the girls click by in their heels, you are James Bond cool. "A dirty martini? Why, yes, I've got a wet bar in my trunk." So, crack open a Bud Light, "Mr. My Car's an Instant Nightclub" Guy, who has it all. Except a friend to hang out with. (Thanks to Jack for his help with that last line) Hopefully, I'll get a video of the lady who uses her turn signal all the way down the parking garage spiral, even though there's only one way you can turn!!