Friday evening, I was invited to dinner at the home of a young couple, the man of which is the son of the older couple with whom we all normally have Friday night dinner. Fuuuuuuuuuuck grammar is hard! It kinda boggles my mind how yuppies can be so proficient in their professional lives and have absolutely no aesthetic clue when it comes to hosting. Priorities, people. Get them. If you're going to forgo cooking and cater, fine, do it. But don't then make one dish and stick it in with the rest because it's not gonna be as good as the crazy high fat/salt restaurant grub and your sad little dish will face more rejection than me at a Calve Muscle Lovers of America's annual general meeting. Secondly, my hostess was bummed because one guest cancelled and consequently there would be too much food. This is akin to saying that the United States of America recently suffered a huge blow to their population growth with the loss of Gary Coleman. There was more food at this dinner than in the whole of Mozambique. Also, it was Thai and lemongrass is the devil. You heard me.
For all of my observations/bitchings thus far, this was actually all okay. Food was decent, there was lots of wine and I had walked close to a marathon (20 minutes) to get to their house, so I was feeling confident in my decision to swan dive into the pad thai. Full pike, half twist. What stuck in my craw though was their house guest, a woman in the 30-55 age range depending on the lighting, who had just got back from Honduras with her 12 year old weimeraner Shadow and his spinal bifida. It literally dragged itself everywhere on its two front paws. So sad. Sadder still cause his owner was a raging biotch.
I hate - HATE - women that go over to visit their female friends and the friends' husbands/boyfriends and spend the whole night harping at the guys in a misguided pseudo-feminist attempt to rally with their friends who needs absolutely no rallying. Couples disagree all the time but stay the fuck out it, yo! This is not an attempt to mediate but rather a nosey-ass gender-contrived continuation of "boys have cooties," and when you are 30-55 years old, this is really unsightly. It's not feministy in the least, as the underlying implication is that the female in the partnership could not possibly hold her own without the help of a sistah. This chick, who is Jewish, also spent the whole night scolding the hosts' dog, debated on how to get into a Ponzi scheme and refused to sing the blessing for the Sabbath with the hostess when asked and said that she would speak it but actually she wouldn't cause that would sound stupid with one person singing and one person speaking.
Are...you fucking kidding?
You get invited to participate in a traditional (albeit Thai) Friday night meal and when asked to put in 10 seconds of effort, you decline because it would "sound stupid?" What a total F U to the hosts. Then she talked for two hours non-stop about how her stomach was sore and she needed to go for a run. Yo, Forest, just fucking run already! Don't just sit there with your close-to-30-weeks food baby and challenge my view on dietary sugars:
Jet-Lagged Hostess: This frozen yogurt is amazing. It's only 3 grams of fat.
Buddha Belly Biznatch: Yeah, but there's a ton of sugar in it.
Illustrious D: Actually, I'm pretty sure it's made with Splenda, so...
BBB: Yeah, but everything has sugar in it. Everything refined has sugar in it.
ID: Okay, but this isn-
BBB: Like, anything with refined grains is sugar.
ID: Yeah, it breaks down into sugar in your body but it's not the same as having just sugar.
BBB: No, but it's sugar. Your body makes it into sugar.
ID: *wtf expression to hostess*
BBB: Like, I'll only eat whole grains because - okay, don't you get it? - it's all sugar.
ID, using grand gestures: I understand that. But a cup of bread *thinks about how a cup of bread would look* and a cup of sugar are not the same thing.
BBB: Yeah, but they are both sugar.
ID, breaking out a power point presentation and finger puppets: A CUP OF BREAD DOES NOT CONTAIN THE SAME AMOUNT OF SUGAR AS A WHOLE CUP OF SUGAR.
BBB: Anyway, that yogurt does look really good.
What is it about me that attracts the misinformed of Toronto to spew garbage at me like their own personal whimsies are scientifically notarized fact? First the 19 year old wombat from last week and now this Dr.-Oz-proselytizing turd.
NEXT TIME: I abandon the reason why I moved in the first place; an ugly, straight guy shows me his ass and gives me a cupcake; a lot of overtanned dick