Not So Fast

I have been a baaaaaad girl. First off, my last cheese experiment went wrong (despite the heroic efforts of S.R.!) I think it has something to do with the weather. I've done a lot of reading on making cheese and yogurt and cream cheese and most mention that they don't come out right if there is a thunderstorm in the works - which around these parts, this time of year, is like all the time. Too grainy, too tart, just not so yummy-licious and definately not on par with the soon-to-be-patented Sabo Scale of Food Lookiness. I'm pretty sure my pigs are clinically depressed, especially Brad Pitt and George Clooney (who BTW was finally castrated yesterday - owwwwwie..) Also Tyra Banks is refusing to get knocked-up so I don't have any fun little piglets running around - resulting in a general feeling of unease (I know there's a joke in there about being "pent up" sexually, but I just can't put my finger on it - get it? PENNED UP....oy.) All this after they were upgraded from the open pen under the mango tree to the little Rancho near the Bodega. My pigs' house is nicer than most human beings' houses in Mechapa! It's a dog-gone duplex with a mud swimming pool, concrete interior WITH a window for a million dollar view of the ocean. Maybe that's the problem - cushy digs = cranky pigs.
The three horses (Sunset, Davidson and Booper) are running around wild and come home only in the wee hours of the morning which serves only to wake the dogs, who go berserky, which only serves to wake me up and make me run around the property with a huge flashlight cursing under my breath and stepping in horse poo, which only serves to make me give up after a while, resulting in Mike yelling at me in the morning on how we should just get rid of DAMN HORSES. Double Oy. I have decided to retaliate by slaughtering Tyra on Monday (although it should be Brad...he just never accepted his castration when he was young and is smaller and brattier (Braddier?) than George) so she will "go to Dog Heaven." I don't know why, but I just don't think that there is a heaven for pigs. Dogs, definately, pigs, no. But dogs are pretty cool so I think they let them in - if not for any other reason than they're fun to chase around, which would mean by extension that cats would be allowed in too, unless of course there's a cat heaven, which I seriously doubt. Rabbits, too. I have to STOP playing with the livestock, especially after the traumatic strangulation death of Mona Lisa due to my inferior knot-tying skills - although I am having visions of little pelibueys dancing in my head. Don't tell Mike, but I am thinking about buying a pair, Mona Lisa Too and Picaso. Seriously, don't tell him....
I am totally out of cucumbers, so I can't make any more pickles for the time being, unless I go to Chinandega which I DO NOT want to do because it's always too hot, takes too long, and I spend way too much money on crap I don't want or need - the desire just to buy things is an exhausting fight. I keep meaning to re-do some grout in bathrooms, but I've never done that before so it will probably end up being a disaster and Mike says it will be a disaster so it will definately be a disaster. This entry was supposed to be about my new pie-in-the-sky project called Guest Review, since I am obviously a seething snake pit of anger and frustration (have I mentioned lately that I miss escalators, high heels, super-blonde highlights and fast English?). So instead of a full-blown diatribe on this ground-breaking idea that would most definately land me a 2-minute spot on Good Morning America or Oprah, or America's Most Wanted, it gets a meer (mear, mere...another one of those words...) passing nod in an otherwise boring and farm animal ridden blog. Here it is anyway:
You know how there's Trip Advisor where people can post hotel and restaurant reviews on-line and say whatever they want with absolutely no shame? Well, this is the owner's revenge, where hotel and restaurant owners rate the GUESTS...get it?! So, let's say a family from Miami come just before Semana Santa, stay a couple of nights, all happy and nice to the owners and their staff, but really, there are at least 5 separate things about them that are actually quite awful - and that other hotel owners would probably like to know about them BEFORE they get there...I haven't worked out all the details yet, but there would be several scales....say 1. Cleanliness (where they absolute pigs to clean up after?) 2. Tip-ability (did they leave a tip for great staff service?) 3. General Lookiness (borrowed and adapted from the soon-to-be patented Sabo Scale of Food Lookiness - after all, who really wants to see 10 pounds of junk in a 5 pound swimming suit bag?) 4. .... This could go on and on, but I fear it would come across just sounding punkish and mean-spirited, which is the point of Guest Advisor of course, but not my intent here, and why let everyone get a front row seat to my inner soul, anyway?
Who does that, anyway? Who slaughters a pig in retaliation for bad pig-behavior and farm oogieness? What a wacko!!!
For any of my faithful readers who want to know how it goes tomorrow with Tyra, check out YouTube under RBRMechapa (rated PG) for all the details and public evidence that Ramone needs to lay off the crack-coffee. This isn't my first time around the Rodeo but I am experimenting with smoked ham and home-made sausage (a COLOSSAL flop the first go round - considered getting MediVac'd out of the hotel.) Should be fun.....ish.