Pussy Talk

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A purrrrfect morning with twin brothers, the fabulous snow white felines Odin and Loki of Norse legend, find themselves attempting to catch lizards in the morning light. It often goes something like this:

Odin: Pppppuuuurrrrhappsss we should eat that lizarrrrrrd Loki, he looks like a grrrreeaat sourrrrrce of pppppabulummmmmmm….. Prrrrrrrrr.
Loki: Okay Odin, I’ll wait for you. I’m prrrreety comforrrrtable rrrrrright here. You go get him. Pppprrrrrrr….
Odin: We are the pppppaaaalllatinesssss of the hood you know! Grrrrrrr….
Odin: The entirrrrrre herrrrrrrpetological kingdom fearrrrrrr us! What are you afrrrrraid of brrrrrrooottthher? Prrrrrr….
Loki: I’m not afrrrrrrraid of anything! I’ll eat him afterrrrrr I bat him arrrrrround a bit. You go get him. I’m still enjoying my morrrrrning Joe.
Odin: You lazy bastarrrrrrrd! I always do all the hunting and you just sit back and watch. Then you rrrrrelish the fun of torrrrrtuurrrring my prrrrrrey!
Loki: Parrrrrdon me Odin, you may catch lizarrrrrrrdssssss but I maintain the perrrrrimeterrrrrr….I keep an eye on all the trrrrrraffic and make surrrrrre your head doesn’t end up under a tirrrrrrre. Grrrrrrrr…..
Odin: Fine. I’ll trrrrrapp him in the corrrrrrner. When I grrrrrrrrab him in my teeth, you corrrrrrdone off the arrrrrrea. Pppprrrrrrrrr…..
Loki: Grrrrreat! Knock yourrrrrrrself out! Prrrrrrrrr….
(Meanwhile, Loki, who is always filthy and fails to maintain his lovely snow white coat on his own, feigns prrrrrrreeeeenning).
Odin: (Under his brrrrreath) That lazy prrrrrrrrima donna, he’s useless anyway. I’ve got this pppppppalinola down to a science. I’ll crrrrreep up behind the lizarrrrrd, and when he darrrrrrts to the left, I’ll pounce on his hind quarrrrrrterrrrs. Grrrrrrrrr…
Loki: Nice move brrrrrrrrother! OH NO! GRRRRRRRRR!!!!!
Odin: Damn thing released his tail from his body Loki!! I’ve got only the tail! Only the tail! Rrrrrrruuuunnnn….Go get him Loki, he’s running forrrrrrrr it!!! Grrrrrrrrrr!!!!…
Loki: All rrrrrrright, all rrrrrrright, rrrrrrrelax, I got him. I’ll swing arrrrround the house and catch him on the otherrrrrr side. Get rrrrrready to pounce!!!
Odin: Yeah! That’s it! You got him corrrrrrnerrrred!!! Grrrrrrrrrab him!
Loki: I got him, I got him, I got him, I don’t got him….I got a fore leg. Crrrrrapppppppp!!!! Not even a snack Odin! This lizarrrrrd is verrrrrry verrrrrrry smarrrrrrtttt!
Odin: Well so farrrrr, we have a tail and a foreleg. Which parrrrrrt do you want to eat firrrrrrrst?Prrrrrrrr…..
Loki: The forrrrrreleg. Grrrrrrrrr. I don’t eat tail. You should know that by now Odin. Grrrrrrrr……
Odin: I don’t either brrrrrother. What arrrrrrre you trrrrrrying to imppppppply???
Loki: Save it for the Palmetto family. Theirrrrrr brrrrrroke and theirrrrrr kidsssssssss arrre starrrrrrrving since the economy collappppppppsssssssed. Mom feeds us pate’, we don’t need to eat no stinking lizarrrrrrd. But I’m going in for anotherrrrrrr trrrrryyy anyway. Grrrrrrrr.
Loki: Neverrrrrr quit Odin! It’s not about the destination! It’s about the jourrrrrrney Man’! Grrrrrrrrrrr….
Odin: Hey man, look I got him! Meow, meow, meow, meow, meow!
Loki: Dude, it’s dead. He’s limp in your teeth. You scarrrrrred the ssssssshhhhhhit rrrrrright out of him.
Odin: Oh well, neverrrrrrmind then. Let’s go have a snack of sarrrrrrdines and turrrrrrkey. I’m rrrrrrready for a napppppp now anyway.Prrrrrrrr…….
Loki: Yeah, that was rrrrrrrrealy harrrrrrrd work. Prrrrrrrr….

Pussy Talk is a registered trademark of Summersaid. As you can clearly see, anyone can act and speak like an animal. ūüėČ

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Even the Losers….

I absolutely love this place. This world. This blog. My life.

A one time hard left turn onto a paper street has turned into career opportunities, income, travel, new friends and great times. I guess I need to thank someone. Even the losers get lucky sometimes. So I need to thank them, both of them, properly.

It’s funny though, looking back, that for even one second I fell for the biggest pack of nonsense that ever filtered in between my two ears. Never in my life have I consciously chosen to be associated with anyone with qualities like lying, cheating, and stealing. But then again, people like that tend to hide those qualities. It seems then, that if someone was to lie about themselves, who they really are and what they really do, that they would fall under the “loser” category and as such, I never belonged with a loser. So to all you Narcissists and you Sociopaths, you get a giant “L” in the middle of your foreheads.

One loser deserves another loser. And so it goes….

My ranking on Google is wonderful. Thanks losers. I’m making money on my writing. Thanks losers. I don’t wake up next to a liar, a womanizer or Gary Busey. Thanks losers. Life is happy, happy, joy, joy for me every day. Thanks losers. I have never laughed so hard in all my life ;D Thanks losers, (oh and no worries, you should at least get mentioned as an extra in the cast of characters)….I already have affectionate names for them.

Anyhoo….the moral of the story is, when a loser approaches you,(Caution: Narcissists are Losers) and your first instinct is to run for your life, do it. Stick to your guns dammit! But, if you don’t and you get snagged by a big load of bullshit, don’t worry. Always remember you can write about it later and then thank the losers for all of the great material and for saving you from, well, from being with and living the life of a loser.

Yup, even the losers get lucky sometimes. (I love that song)

Thanks Tom.

(and Mr. Forest Hump and Sasquatch)

Creole Jambalaya by Summer

Tonight I made supper for three starving guys. I’m not an Americana foodie by any stretch. I create dishes from around the world, like French, Mediterranean, Indian, Cuban, Italian etc., but tonight I went for my favorite which is Cajun low country. That’s about as Americana as I ever get. The guys liked it a lot too. Here¬† goes:

Virgin olive oil
3 large cloves of garlic minced
The Trinity:
1 large green bell pepper chopped
4-5 large celery stalks chopped
1 large Vidalia onion chopped

1 lb. sweet Italian sausage
1 lb loin pork cut in chunks
1 lb jumbo shrimp

1 can Italian peeled plum tomatoes
1/2 fresh okra cleaned and cut up
1 tsbp fresh Italian flat leaf parsley finely minced
Creole seasoning:
Fresh black pepper, 1 tsp cayenne pepper, 1 tsp chilli powder, 1 tbsp sugar, 1 tbsp paprika or just get Zatarain’s creole seasoning mix. It’s wonderful!

Heat about 1/4 cup of virgin olive oil in a good sized Dutch oven on the lowest setting. Mince the garlic and saute on low, or “sweat” until soft. Do not brown!
Add chopped green pepper, celery and onion. Sweat with the lid on on medium heat until wilted.
Add spices. Saute until flavors combine and the room starts to smell good. About 20 to 30 minutes.
Add tomatoes and diced pork. Simmer with the lid on.
Slice sausage into pieces and simmer in boiling water until the fat rises to the top, about 5 minutes then add sausage to mixture.
Clean thorough and cut up okra into bits. Add to mixture.
Allow the mixture to simmer for about an hour. You may add more spice if you like. I heavily season all of my dishes.
Dirty Rice:
Boil 2 1/2 cups of water with a tsp of olive oil and once boiling, add one package of Zatarains dirty rice mixture. It usually calls for you to brown ground beef, but you won’t need to do that since your Jambalaya is already chock full of vegetables and meats.
After about an hour and a half, have your shrimp clean and ready. They go in at the very end and are done when they turn pink. Serve over dirty rice with some ice cold beers!

Bon Apetit!

Narcissists want to know about narcissism too

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I had an epiphany. Call me a late bloomer if you want or maybe I just had too many margaritas tonite¬† but I just realized that it isn’t¬†just women that are interested in reading about narcissism. It’s narcissists as well. I’m sure they find this information riveting. Afterall, I am talking about them. I am giving them what they truly want and so desperately need; adoration, attention and an audience. Hence¬†narcissistic supply.

All this¬†mumbo jumbo¬†about¬†their psychotic manipulations and evil machinations to cover the fact that they are really just very insecure and lonely, even tormented human beings, is driving them into an orgasmic frenzy. Me, me, me, me! It’s always about me. Even if it’s bad or horrible or sociopathic, still, it’s always about me. I am a super star. Or so they think. Those poor, pitiful souls.

Dear N,

I am writing about your disorder, your psychopathic, unconscionable selves. I am writing to alert women primarily to your sick and twisted games. Read my posts if you like. You are even entitled to bask in the limelight, which you will do time and time again, because you are a narcissist. That is the nature of the beast. It is a vicious cycle and I am feeding into it. So be it. Maybe we will all learn something here.

After doing this research, absorbing the clinical material¬†in the DSM IV¬†and reading the pages of true accounts and the very¬†sad tales of broken families, broken and shattered dreams and the ¬†total devastation that you cause, I really pity you. It is the saddest thing to know that you¬†must live with yourself. I have empathy¬†as a normal human being¬†and¬†perhaps even more so in my case, which is¬†something you are unable to grasp. However, disordered and damaged souls such as yours do deserve pity. Just as we do not understand you, you do not understand us. We¬†are of the same species, but yours is of¬†an alien genus. Something to do with a missing part of your amygdala I think…I’ll get back to you on that.

Your mother idolized you so you grew up believing you could do no wrong. You learned at an early age how to get around all the “rules” we all had to play by. You learned early on how to charm others to get your way. You mimicked others responses and behaviors¬†and mirrored them back to seem just like them. How unbelievably sad for you to endure a life of torture that¬†is¬†repeated over and over¬†in your own head.

At some point in your childhood no one was listening to you. No one noticed you. Someone discarded you so badly in some way that you reverted to this monster that sought to exact revenge on the rest of us unsuspecting mortals for the rest of your life. Every mirror in your home reflects an image back to you that is of your own making. You have no idea of what you truly look like. You have no idea whose soul inhabits your body. You could never benefit from the words of the Oracle of Delphi, know thyself, because you are a created and tormented soul.

The saddest part of all is that there is no help for you. Even a crack addict when faced with what he truly is can get help. Even if it takes an intervention. Your psychopathy is so engendered that you cannot escape you. How terrifying. And to think, we the victims, cannot comprehend what you are. But it is so simple really. All we need to do is to think and become just like you. Just as you mirror us, we can mirror you. That is how we can understand you. That is how we can battle your destructiveness and protect ourselves from the pain and misery that you inflict.

This is that aha! moment. What better way to understand you than to employ the same techniques that any decent FBI criminal profiler would employ. Emulation. Get your head inside the killer so to speak. To understand a narcissist, is to become one.

I hope you are reading carefully and taking copious notes. Maybe even trying to perfect your craft. We are doing likewise; studying, mirroring, guarding our secrets and covering our tracks as well. When you attempt to employ your manipulations and lies to us in the future, we will be ready for you.

Very sincerely yours,

Summer

Islands in the stream

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Something magical happens as soon as you get to Florida City. The United States of America ceases to exist. It is where, at the first gas station, it is a common ritual to crack a beer and head towards the Overseas Highway with a Keys state of mind. You are now entering the Conch Republic. Mind you, I don’t condone drinking and driving. But this is different. This is a rite of passage.

If ever there was a place to let the world slip away it is the Keys. You only need a few bathing suits, some shorts and tees and maybe a little sundress or wrap. In fact clothing is optional all together in many places. Where I just spent three days, it was.

The “Rugby” camp is located on the ocean. In the Keys you have two options, be on the ocean or be on the gulf of Mexico. Since I had never been to the “camp”, I assumed we were staying on the ocean side. I was surprised to find that¬†the camp is literally on the ocean with¬†the deck hanging over and into¬†the ocean. We are abutted directly against a small sea wall. It’s the closest thing to being on a boat while still¬†being on dry¬†land. Waking¬† every morning on the ocean is intoxicating. Watching the sun crack through the horizon is a sanctifying experience. A comforting solitude.¬† A great heron greets me and my coffee. Water is all around you from every angle except for a small point of land stretching out a few hundred yards. It’s more of a jetty than anything else and just slightly¬†breaches the vast turquoise¬†briny sea all around you.

There is no one at the camp now. The entire place is deserted and so we had the whole place to ourselves. It’s a great place to come to get centered with¬†who you are and¬†to let your mind wander free. My cohort on this excursion is an ex pro Rugby player from New Zealand and I recently found out a pretty darn good photographer. Although he wasn’t interested in taking photos of the natural surroundings like I was, he prefered to do a partially nude photo shoot of me with the ocean and coral¬†scree¬†as a backdrop. I must say they are the best and most aesthetically pleasing¬†shots I’ve done to date. I’d place them here on my blog¬†because they really are so beautiful and so artistically done¬†but I think it may come as a shock to many of my readers. He captured something in me I haven’t seen in quite some time. Au naturelle in Islamorada. He wants to submit them to Conde’ Nast. I’ll have to think about that. For now, they’re safely tucked away on my hard drive.

For three days we lived on cracked conch, fresh fish and “dark and stormies“. We visited some museums¬†but I was most impressed by¬†a full sized model of¬†Ernest Hemingway’s¬†boat, Pilar. I could¬†visualize him,¬†motoring in the back¬†bay catching snook or mangrove snapper, or to and¬†from Cuba¬†smoking his pipe and plotting his next great novel. I felt the wood, the decking and all along the transom. It seemed to vibrate back to me¬†the words and images so that for a second or two, maybe¬†I could tap into it; tap into¬†Papa directly. Even though the real Pilar is in Cuba, I still picked up¬†his essence¬†and imagined even more vividly his adventurous and colorful life. I strive to live life just as he did. There’s always an adventure waiting.

Islands in the Stream was¬†part of a¬†trilogy, the last being The Old Man and the Sea, ¬†and was published post-humously. In the novel there were to be¬†three parts, “The sea when young“, “The sea when absent” and the “the sea in being“. Somehow they are¬†indicative of¬†me as I’ve grown through the many changes in¬†my own life. I feel now¬†I am¬†the sea in being. ¬†A knowing, a constant flowing.¬†Vast and fertile.¬†To place¬†my dreams within this vessel and to know that¬†they teem with life.

Woodfish opening for Blue Oyster Cult, Three Dog Night, Pat Traverse, LA Guns!

Woo Hoo! I’m extremely proud and very excited to be attending this 3-day event. Woodfish, if you will recall, is a an indie band from New Jersey that I profiled a couple months ago on Blogcritics. They’re very good friends of mine and I’m looking forward to this gig.¬† A few years back they opened for Foghat in NYC and that was a really good time. I spent my time backstage with them and Foghat and if I had played my cards right at the time, instead of using Charlie’s dressing room to take a call from Vancouver,¬† I probably would be dating Charlie by now. He looks great wrapped in only a towel from the waist down by the way…

My plan is also to meet up with the members of Blue Oyster Cult, specifically Buck, and ask him if I may write a review of the band for Blogcritics. If I’m going to write a review, I prefer it be after attending a live event; just listening to the material isn’t quite the same. I met Buck several years ago at Nicki Beach. I wonder if he’ll remember me? Charlie did. He was at the same gig. How very weird.

Three Dog Night will be a child’s dream come true. If there ever was one band that formed my childhood listening experience, it would be them. Just hearing, the songs, One, I’ve Never been to Spain and Shambala, transport me back in time. A time when the sun was always shining and skies were always blue.

Drowning Mona, a very quirky film with Bette Midler and a whole lot of Ugo’s, that I absolutely love, uses Shambala as the theme song throughout. A must see flick. Apparently,¬†I’m not the only one that sees the irony in that song.

LA Guns??? Now this will be a trip. Sleaze Rock was definately not in my repertoire, so I have no idea how I ended up with a heavy metal guitarist in leopard tights for 5 years, but none the less, it happened and I did, so this show will be a voyage back down memory lane as well. With a somewhat creepy feel. Something about a man in leather pants after 50 that is just wrong. In so many ways. But what the heck!

Pat Travers? What can I say. Just another Canadian down the long line of the many I’ve known, worked with, been married to and had kids with. Here we go again!

Well, tthhhaaat’s all folks!!! ūüėČ

Right now I’m heading down to the Keys for a few days of fishing and snorkeling. We’ll catch up later.

Summer Savory Salad

This is not just a summer salad. It is an any season salad. It is a salad that is a meal in itself though. But it is a Summer salad. I’m leaving out the amounts because it’s not hard to figure out how to feed 1, 2, 4 or 20+ people. Adjust as needed. ūüėČ

Ingredients:

Spring Mix, Baby Greens or Mesclun.

English cucumber, another burpless variety or a regular cuke, sliced, seeded and chopped.

Grape tomatoes.

A small bunch of  whole fresh basil leaves.

Cooked baby ears of corn.

3 or 4 bean salad: (kidney, green and wax beans and chickpeas).

Dry oil cured olives.

Cooked artichoke hearts.

Hearts of palm.

Stone crab claw meat cut into chunks, (this is a Florida seasonal delicacy,substitute lump crab meat if need be) lobster tail meat cut into chunks, cooked peeled whole shrimp and squid, (cephalopod) rings.

2  or 3 fresh mangoes cut into chunks.

Several (5 or 6) large fresh strawberries quartered.

In a large bowl, (I like to use a big pewter one I have shaped like a cabbage leaf that stays nice and cool in the fridge until served), gently place all of your salad ingredients.

**Leave some of the mango chunks, strawberries and seafood to garnish the top**

Dressing:

1/4 to 1/2 half cup of Apple cider vinegar

1/8 to 1/4 cup of raw honey.

2 tablespoons juice from fresh squeezed orange.

Sea salt and fresh cracked pepper to taste.

A good pinch (1/2 teaspoon) of Summer savory.

2 sprigs of fresh finely chopped mint.

Extra virgin olive oil.

In a small mixing bowl whisk together the apple cider vinegar, honey, seasonings and fresh herbs. It should thicken up a bit. While whisking, stream the virgin olive oil into the bowl continuously. Continue whisking until the dressing has a medium consistency, not runny but not thick either. Somewhat syrupy.

Serve salad in large salad bowls and drizzle dressing lightly over top.

Bon Appetit!