Category: Uncategorized

Heavy Fucking Whipping Cream

So, like, you know how heavy whipping cream is like a staple of the keto diet? Sure, lots of greens and grass fed meats are pretty key, but

HEAVY WHIPPING CREAM

Have you ever just had a spoonful of heavy whipping cream (of course the fuck not because the majority of you- the odd three or so followers I have left- aren’t psychos)?

Heavy whipping cream is legit heavy. It sticks to the roof of your mouth and blankets your tongue in a thick coat of fat. It somehow makes it into your brain’s pleasure receptors, where it does the version of the Macarena where you just flail your arms around and laugh like a hyena because you have no idea what you’re doing, but YAY, HEAVY FUCKING WHIPPING CREAM.

Once you try a spoonful, it only makes sense to use it in place of your 1% Lactaid when you make yourself an entire box of Pasta Roni. And by you, I mean me.

Oh, I’m sorry.

Did you think I was doing keto, finally?

Excuse me while I laugh in fat and desperate, but still ain’t trying keto.

So, once I learned how absolutely mind-blowing heavy cream is in boxed pasta (like, no joke, better than any of the pasta I ate in Italy), I knew I had to try it in my Chocolate Peanut Butter Cheerios.

Heavy whipping cream in cereal should be outlawed, in case you were wondering. It’s just not fair to regular milk.

These are just some of the delights I ate tonight, along with two mini bags of popcorn, a pudding cup topped off with a giant dollop of marshmallow cream, and some canned corn because I’m not a savage.

What makes this all the more oh-no-baby-what-is-you-doin was that just this past Monday, the day we returned from winter break, I chose to wear jeans to work.

Jeans.

Jeans, after two solid weeks of sweatpants and fists full of homemade Chex Muddy Buddies.

I figured… what did I figure? Was I even figuring?

If you must know, I still have an indent in my stomach from the waistband, and I couldn’t sit at a 90 degree angle the entire day. In case you weren’t aware, most sitting is done at a 90 degree angle.

So, what’s new with me? As you can see, not a damn thing.

What’s new with you two?

(I’m speaking to the two stragglers I have left here).

Have you ever tried heavy whipping cream in your cereal? Did it blow your pants off (just literally, unfortunately) like it did me?

WTF Wednesday: Rant Life

In an attempt to post more regularly, I thought I’d bring back my WTF Wednesday series. I’m not sure I’ll always have enough WTF rants to fill up every Wednesday slot for the foreseeable future, but I’ll try.

UM, WAIT, WHO ARE WE KIDDING HERE?

Of COURSE I’ll have enough to rant about. Complaining is one of my absolute favorite things to do. (Well, aside from guiltily stuffing my face with enough carbs to feed a small village in one sitting.) And, I seem to always have a complaint or ten on hand. So, buckle up, babes!

I’m going to split up my rants into three categories: What’s Annoying Me Right Now, Are You Fucking Kidding Me?, and Where’s My Xanax? for ease of categorizing my issues.

So, let’s get this party started, eh?

What’s Annoying Me Right Now

So, if you know me personally, it’s no secret that I’m looking for side work. I’m specifically looking for writing jobs, but thanks a million for the several suggestions I’ve received that strip clubs are always hiring. As nice as that suggestion is, I really don’t think third grade teachers should side hustle at The Boobie Bungalow. Also, I don’t need to have the guilt of giving some poor old, lonely dude a heart attack right as he’s struck completely blind. I just can’t have that on my conscience right now.

So, I’ve been creeping Indeed like that weirdo who’s the first to like all of your Insta posts (who are you even?).

I’ve applied to so.many.freelance.writing.jobs.it.isn’t.even.funny.

The only two I’ve heard back from are total busts.

The first wanted a peppy, inspired video of why I would be a good fit for their company. Um. There is a very good reason I chose blogging (I.E. WRITING) over vlogging: I have crazy eyes and a face only blogging would love.

So, I had to pass on that one. You’re welcome, whoever would’ve had to watch that video.

The second company to contact me was an educational company looking for writers.

Sounds like the perfect fit, right?!

Let me just list the BS I went through over the last few days with this company (everything I say here, I’d not hesitate to share with them, FYI):

1. For the first informational webinar I signed up for, the host never joined. Legit, just didn’t show. NOT exactly the best first impression.

2. During the second (successful) attempt to participate in the mandatory webinar, the owner told us we could start that day and to email her if we were interested. Alright!

3. After emailing her and not hearing anything back, I sent an email the next day to the person who scheduled the webinar to check to make sure the email I wrote down was correct. She responded with, “Susie Ann (not her real name) is very busy. I’m sure you’ll hear from her.” Maybe don’t tell us we can start that very day then?

4. After finally hearing back from the owner of the company, they got me “started” in their system they use to write in, but gave ZERO explanation for how to work within the system. I’m not a stupid person, but I do need basic directions to brand new things.

5. It took WAY too long to hear from this person on how to proceed. In fact, I spent the better part of a snow day off of work trying to figure out where to write and post, because it all made no sense. This was not how I wanted to spend my day off from being at work. I was mad, ya’ll.

6. After asking for some assistance for how to navigate, I was told to ask the super helpful woman from before. Um. No thanks. I’ll just bow out here.

So, I’ve decided to walk away from this “opportunity”. My boyfriend and one of my friends said that if they are this horrible at responding to simple questions, what’s going to happen when my pay for my writing doesn’t show up?

So, basically, I’m just really annoyed I wasted an entire day and several hours to this when I could have been doing something more productive, like looking for less stressful freelance work or binge watching The Office.

Are You Fucking Kidding Me?

Whenever it snows or rains, literally all the idiots come out in droves. It’s like they think, “Weather makes me straight up lose my mind. It’s a blizzard outside, so now is a good time to be on the road.”

When you combine idiocy with entitlement, you have an even more potentially lethal combination.

This makes me so mad, I can feel the vein in my forehead pulse as I type.

On a daily basis, I see fools driving like they are the only people who matter. I see people driving reckless as fuck and for what? So they can be first in the drive thru line at MacDonald’s? (Yes, I meant to spell it like that. You’re supposed to read it in a country accent.)

Unless you need to poop or you or someone in your car is going into labor, SLOW THE EFF DOWN and be courteous to others.

Also, can we all quit being such self-involved assholes?

On Sunday, I witnessed a woman purposely hit the plastic SLOW sign in the middle of a crosswalk. Like, she veered to hit it. How in the fuck evil does a grown woman have to be to purposely hit a sign that reminds people to slow down for people, namely children, to cross the street? Who hurt you?

Then, that very same day, my dude went to put air in his tires. There was a line, and the person trying and failing to add air to their tires was an elderly woman. It was snowing, freezing cold, and a line of people sat waiting impatiently instead of helping.

GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE.

Like, pack your shit and kindly fall off the face of the earth.

In case you were wondering, my non-douchebag boyfriend helped the woman put air in her tires, because we aren’t terrible people.

Where’s My Xanax?

So, about that “job” I decided against? It was the last semi-promising side hustle I’ve found. I’m employing my travel money saving tips for my upcoming trips, but I’m probably going to need a teensy bit more than what I can save from my paychecks. This is partly due to my way smaller than what I was expecting tax return. Anyone else really unhappy about this? I was going to rant about my tax return and forgot because I had so many pressing rants #rantlife.)

I need some way to make some side money that doesn’t involve compromising situations, and it’d be nice if it wasn’t a time-wasting scam.

I don’t think there is such a thing as a legit writing side job.

Anyone who has found one is welcome to speak up and share their secrets, because it’s getting harder to sleep with my twitching eye.

So, what is really burning your biscuits right now? Tell Aunt Fatty!

Free Advice Friday From Your Aunt Fatty

Dear Auntie, 

The new president of the board where I teach is a passive aggressive power hungry bitch. She keeps praising me to my face and then going behind my back and saying nasty things to my co workers. And then she denies it. How can I deal with her and keep my sanity? And if that isn’t possible, how can I kill her and not get caught?

-Anonymous Idiot (who should have said no)

Dear Anonymous Idiot,

I once briefly worked at a place that shall remain nameless that had a board that was almost entirely run by moms of students attending. I think that was a major conflict of interest, but what do I know?

(I had way more to say here, but figured it’d be better for me to watch my big mouth.)

One of these moms hated me simply because she assumed I was too young to be responsible for her child’s education. She actually said to a teacher who worked there, “I don’t want that 18 year-old know-nothing around my son.”

No way! You think I’m 18?!”

I was 28.

So, all that to say, I know what you’re going through.

As far as I’m aware, school board members are elected to their positions. Next time she comes up to be re-elected, you know what you need to do. Until then, just be your amazing self and pay no mind to people like that. If you know you’re doing your job well and her comments are unfounded, it’s her problem not yours.

Also, it wouldn’t hurt to document the ever-loving shit out of every interaction and record every snippet of gossip you hear her quacking. You may need it, because if karma truly exists, ample evidence from the sane party will work in your favor big time.

Besides, if she’s doing this to you, she’s probably talking behind other backs as well. She might piss off the wrong person and your documentation could be the cherry on top of getting her removed from the board.

Best of luck and don’t do murder.

Love, Your Aunt Fatty (who is really, really mad about this bullshit for you)

Dear Aunt Fatty,

Can you help me find my calling? I see people around me who know what they want to do or are happy with what they are doing. From the moment I started searching for a job and a career, everyone asks me what I want to be…. and I don’t know. I don’t know who or what I can be. I’m average on everything including translating for the looks of things (didn’t get the translating job I applied for) and all I can see myself doing is retail, but I know that I can’t keep my big mouth shut anymore. If a customer pisses me off I will slap him with the keyboard or my hand. Depends what’s easiest at the time. How should I go about finding what I’m meant to do in life?

Sincerely, A Very Knowledgeable and Talented Queen Who Can Do Anything and Everything She Sets Her Mind To (I wrote this, because I only speak the truth)

Dear A Very Knowledgeable and Talented Queen Who Can Do Anything and Everything She Sets Her Mind To,

First, I think it’s really awesome (and also kinda like playing with fire) that you trust me enough with this serious issue.

Next, I’d like all of my readers to know that I know you personally, so when I say you can literally do anything, I damn well mean it and I’m qualified to say it.

You are too legit to quit and genuinely one of the kindest and most thoughtful people I know.

You impressed the hell out of my family when you took us on a personal tour of the Lincoln Cathedral. You knew so much and presented it to us in such an engaging way, I was in awe.

You know a handful of languages, dude. That’s like four fingers less than most people.

What I truly see you doing is working at a museum or important historical site. I see you being a director. I see you being responsible for all the important shit that goes on at these places (whatever that shit is, because I don’t know). I see you speaking your myriad languages to the other important director people of other important museums and/or historical sites. I see you wearing super smart lady suits that look killer on you (You’ll spice them up with a peekaboo lace camisole underneath and sky high heels. Or sensible flats, because let’s be real- heels blow).

You will be K-I-L-L-I-N-G I-T, girl.

If this is not what you want to be and you end up working the till at Tesco, I’ll be equally proud of you, because that’s just one step closer to being able to travel the world with your Soul Sister (me).

I know you’re feeling down right now, but don’t you dare ever say you’re average. Don’t you ever say that again.

Love, Your Aunt Fatty (who is #crossingherfingersandtoesbecausesicilyandobviouslyforyoutooimnotcompletelyselfish)

Dear Auntie:

Now that the cold weather has arrived, us girls need a little extra warmth on our bodies. Like most, I love the colder months because I don’t have to use a weed wacker on my legs to get them touchable smooth. How often should a lady shave those stems in the winter?

Much love,

Going to run in an Abominable Snowwoman contest

By Abominable Snow Woman, did you mean this?

Dear Going to Run in an Abominable Snow Woman Contest,

I’m so glad you brought up this very important issue. This is so something that needs to be covered every year when the temps drop and the chill hits.

Despite what every man on Earth may say, it is not at all necessary to shave for the entirety of Sweater Weather season. Like, there’s not one single reason to get your razor wet once.

If your body is covered head to toe in warm stuffs why shave? Even if you were rocking a tank and booty shorts, what’s a little butt hair poking out? We all have it. Right, ya’ll have an abundance of butt hair, too. Right??

Coming from someone who likes to look decent, I sure as fuck hate the process. I positively hate shaving because it takes so long my fingers are pruney and the water has run cold. I only shave for my massage therapist and only the places she will have to touch (and I’m only doing this as a courtesy, as I imagine rubbing down legs with a million porcupine spines has to be unpleasant).

I can just hear my dude groaning subconsciously. Sorry, boyfriend. You have hairy armpits, too.

So, rock on with your hairy bad self. Your built-in insulation will save on heating costs too, so I see this as a total win-win situation.

Love, Your Aunt Fatty (who is also participating in No Shave Octembanuaryarch)

Thank you so much to Giggling Fattie, who submitted her question above and also kindly posted on her blog about my Ask Aunt Fatty series! Check out her fantastic blog that I know you’re gonna love here.

A few of you sent in submissions (thank you, thank you, thank you) that I didn’t get to this week. Stay tuned for next week’s post to read your answer from Aunt Fatty.

Keep sending in your problems, people. I know you got ’em!

You can contact me here! Or, if you follow me on Twitter, Instagram or Facebook, you can message me there, as well!

Oops, My Bad

I’m posting today to apologize for not posting my usual on Wednesday and today. The Christmas crazies have kicked in and I’m finding myself overwhelmed trying to fit in all the fun. Maybe one year I’ll slow the shit down and actually enjoy the holidays.

I’m fully expecting that you will see an update on how Dumpy and McMilkshakes are doing. Spoiler alert: We’re struggling and dieting during the holidays can suck our sagging back fat.

Check out the first posts in the Diet Chronicles of Dumpy Von Marshmallow Waist and Duchess McMilkshakes:

The First Post

Week Two

The Thanksgiving Edition

I’m positively loving writing ridiculous advice from Aunt Fatty, but I only have one submission waiting for my anti-advice, so I decided to wait and see if more of you felt the need for crappy life lessons from a wholly unqualified individual (to the person waiting: I hope it wasn’t, like, a time sensitive issue. If so, my bad).

So, in order for Free Advice Friday From Your Aunt Fatty to work, I kinda need people seeking advice. I considered just writing fake submissions, but I want to bring real life fuckery to you, not made up bullshit.

So, get to writing in. You can submit your queries here.

Check out the posts I’ve already done thanks to your submissions:

The First Round of Ridiculousness

More Non-Advice

The Last Post?

In going back through these previous posts I’ve done, I’m noticing that each new post got less likes than the last. Maybe you’re all busy with Christmas crap like I am or I was mistaken and ya’ll actually really hate this series?

Well, on that depressing note, I’ll take my leave. Hope to *see* y’all next week.

The Dieting Chronicles of Dumpy Von Marshmallow Waist and Duchess McMilkshakes: The Thanksgiving Edition

Ah, Thanksgiving- the one* time of year it’s totally OK to fall asleep on the couch in your fat pants after getting gravy wasted and eating 18 rolls and fand a half pieces of pie.

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Since McMilkshakes and Dumpy have started a weight loss journey right smack dab before the biggest eating holiday of the year, they have some worries. Some goals. And some real carb-filled desires.

How are you feeling about Thanksgiving? Hungry? Worried? Fatstatic (fat + ecstatic)?

K: I am totally a mixture of all three. This past weekend, my dude and I went to a Steampunk Ball. The skirt I always wear to Steampunk events was tight the last time I wore it. But, my Christmas miracle came early this year-it was fairly loose upon putting it on for the Ball. I had, at least, enough room for a few pounds of gravy-soaked stuffing and some (half) a pie. Yet, I’m not sure I really want to completely obliterate the work I’ve put in on stuffing myself silly. So, I’m damn hungry and feeling massively fatstatic, but I think worried is weighing more heavily right now.

A: I’m looking forward to it getting here and being able to relax. I am an obsessive over planner and have spent HOURS Pinteresting and shopping for the perfect ingredients and decor.  I need centerpieces with matching table runners and place cards or our meal will not be a success (I’m that bitch🙋🏼‍♀️). As far as the eating is concerned I’m not super worried. Even though I can do a lot of damage to myself, and Costco makes an incredible pumpkin cheesecake, I don’t think one day will undo almost 3 weeks of hard work. Will it? One gonna-eat-like-I’ve-never-eaten-before-in-my-entire-life-thank-you-for-averting-your-eyes day. Also, I plan on being reeeeeeally drunk, so I probably won’t eat that much anyway, because the shitty beer I like to drink is very filling (probably because it’s 80% water🤷🏼‍♀️). In all reality, I’ll probably just spend the entire day barefoot, with the hiccups, telling everyone how much they mean to me, and then go to bed at 4:30 missing dinner entirely because mama can’t hold her booze like she used to. 

*Diet tip: Get completely hammered drunk to keep yourself from overeating at holidays with your family. 

**Bonus points: You’ll be too drunk to care about all the obnoxious life choice questions, AND you’ll probably throw up at some point eliminating some of those pesky calories. 

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How are you planning to not completely sabotage your diet?

K: First, you need to understand that in my family, Thanksgiving has already begun. It began with the arrival of my aunt and uncle from the north and it won’t end until everyone has packed their turkey-bloated rear ends into their cars to head back home on Sunday.

When our family gets together, whether it’s on Turkey Day or not, we eat like it’s end of days.

Thus, my plan is to not indulge in the excess- the creamy hors d’oeuvres, the carb-filled sides, or the decadent desserts on all days that aren’t Thanksgiving. On Thanksgiving? I’m not counting shit and I’m eating until I puke. Go big or go home, I say.

A: With alcohol poisoning! No, I’m going to stick to my favorites that I literally have once a year (please see the aforementioned cheesecake reference) on Thanksgiving, in reasonable portions, and I’m not going to feel guilty about any of it. I had briefly considered lightening things up with healthier options, but quickly dropped that idea like a hot potato with a spider on it. Indulging in a handful of holidays each year is not what made me this round, friends- it’s the other 360 days I decided to treat myself. 

What are your plans for the Big Day?

K: Fat pants. Eating with wild abandon. Pepto at the ready.

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A: My family is spending it at my house this year. There will be 11 of us in all, which is exciting because my house is super small. It’s gonna be a clown car of drunken fatness all afternoon. Fun fact: this is the first year without my mom, and I already want to slam my head in the door til it falls off. So, all in all, it should be an interesting day.

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Most Memorable Thanksgiving

K: My poor gram suffered with dementia the last years of her life. While her declining brain health left us deeply saddened, we realized that finding the humor whenever and wherever possible was our saving grace.

Poor Grandma got to be pretty downright mean in her later years, but can you really blame anyone with dementia or Alzheimer’s? Losing your mind has to be the scariest and most frustrating thing ever.

Most times she got meaner than a dog shitting tacks, someone would be offended or hurt. Sometimes, though, her attitude created a truly memorable family moment.

One year, right during grace, someone let loose a dirty joke, a fart, or something our dear, always-a-lady grandma would normally be appalled by. Instead of cursing us all under her breath, she decided to give it to us heathens once and for all. When we all lifted our heads after our half-assed, disgraceful grace, Grandma, at the head of the table was flipping us all the bird. Quite apropos for Thanksgiving, I think.

A: It was 2004 and I had been married for a little over a month. Somehow, my in-laws won the coin toss and we were having our first thanksgiving as man and wife at their house. It was the first year I didn’t get to spend with my parents so I was in rare form the minute I got out of bed that morning. Anyway, we were heading out to Carson Shitty and called my mother-in-law to see if we could bring something for dinner, ie. a pie or some nice bread? Perhaps a moderately priced bottle of wine? Nope. This woman requests a fucking bathroom set for the guest bathroom and could we please hurry because people were on their way over? So there we were- me and my new husband and my real bad attitude taking pictures on my red Motorola Razor flip phone – ‘no that’s ocean blue and I specifically asked for shell blue’ -to find the perfect shade of azure for her towels and rugs. I never got paid back for any of that by the way.

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Most Embarrassing Turkey Day Moment?

K: Gosh, that has to be the time I ate so much and got so bloated with my turkey baby, my tights jumped ship and rolled clear off my gut and down to my thighs. You could actually hear my fat give a sigh of relief as it was released from its restrictive bindings. You could see the band through my dress roll and get bigger like a snow ball as it made its way down my lumpy mountain-like belly. This was also the last year I felt it necessary to rope in my fat for the biggest meal of the year. It’s leggings or no pants at all these days. For my family’s sake, I usually choose to wear leggings. You’re welcome.

A: I went to my family’s house for dinner one year and it happened to be a year I had just gone through the worst breakup in history. They will probably make a Life Time movie about it, or at least they should! Anyway, I loaded my mom in my truck, who was slower than the second coming of Christ. We always had to bring her giant purse (no joke this thing weighed at LEAST 10 pounds), her smaller purse, her walker, her walker basket full of nonsense, “No you don’t need to bring your hardback books, Ma.. there probably won’t be a lot of down time for reading. Please don’t bring your jug of water. I’m SURE Sheila will have some.” TWO cups full of crushed ice, portable oxygen with 3 or 4 extra canisters of air because you just never know, etc. No joke, I’ve gone on vacation for weeks with less stuff than she hauled everywhere we went. Eventually, we arrived at our destination and unloaded Ma Rip and her Mary Poppins bag of treasures, when I was immediately greeted by a long and sloppy tongue kiss from a very drunk, very married, older gentleman with no teeth in. My mom was smart enough to duck so I’m assuming I got two kisses worth. To this day, every time I see that gentleman I am reminded of that terrible kiss and I politely excuse myself to the opposite side of the gathering.

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All in all Thanksgiving is a lot of planning and stressing for very little pay off, but at least there is pumpkin cheesecake.

Dumpy Von Marshmallow Waist and Duchess Milkshakes would like to wish you all a fantastic food-filled Thanksgiving. If you’re not American and/or you don’t celebrate this gluttonous holiday, we will eat a slice (or 10) of pie for you!

What is your favorite Thanksgiving food? What food would you totally wreck your diet for? Let us know in the comments!

*OK, so this is not the only time I engage in such activities. Busted.

Missing Proper Scones With Clotted Cream and Jam Something Fierce

Ya’ll, I am really missing being on vacation. Not only do you get to visit amazingly beautiful sites AND escape your worries and the mundane crap that “regular” life comes with, you get to eat EVERYTHANG. Vacation food calories are always zero, even when smothered in mayonnaise. Especially then.
I decided it’d be fun to share my food pictures from my recent vacation. I made it a point to photograph as much food as I could, because my idea of what a good vacation is is eating with wild abandon and zero guilt. Obviously, I didn’t snap a pic of literally everything I ate, or we’d be here all week. Behold, some of the best and most interesting things I ate inhaled (in chronological order):

How’d our flight from Reno to Denver know we were going to the Netherlands? Way better than a package of four broken mini pretzels!

Literally, the second we got off the shuttle and we dropped our luggage off at our houseboat, I went looking for these. Patat Frites are literally everything I’d hoped they’d be.

My first time trying street Kurdish food and I didn’t get the shits! This woman is crazy talented. I have no idea what it was we ate, but it was amazing!

This is the stuff of my food dreams, man. Blocks of cheese bigger than your head. *faints*

The fresh fruit at our neighborhood food market was tempting, but I, of course, went with the fried potatoes and mayonnaise sauce. Totally the right choice.

Wait…what? Shut up. No.way.

After consuming this one beer precisely two hours after arriving in Amsterdam (and after 12 hours of travel), I promptly fell asleep right there at the bar.

Homemade eggs (that you don’t refrigerate) with zucchini from the market and Turkish coffee. Toto, we’re not in Kansas anymore.

A waffle with powdered sugar, right in front of the ‘I Amsterdam’ sign. Heaven.

Except, they don’t serve coffee there. Vewy twicky.

Ya’ll, this is Kinder-flavored gelato. I’m drooling and shaking like an addict just thinking about it.

This is a cheese sandwich. Literally, just cheese and bread. No mayo, no butter, no chutney. Literally, just cheese. Just bread. It would have been the most boring sandwich in the world except that that was the finest cheese I’ve ever eaten. That bad bitch didn’t need any conflicting flavors hiding its delectable flavor. I could go on about this sandwich, but this is getting weird. I’ll stop.

We got a free Heineken after the stroke-inducing strobe light tour. We may have gotten more than just the one free drink.

Dutch pancakes, or pannenkoeken, are nothing like American pancakes, but they ARE delicious! Savory and sweet varieties here.

This literally looks like dog food packed into a patty, but I assure you, haggis is freaking delicious. This is a haggis roll that we shared. I hate sharing.

Celebratory we-somehow-found-our-first-Scottish-house-stay-despite-being-packed-like-sardines-in-a-too-small-car-and-we-were-newbie-wrong-side-of-the-road-drivers wine.

We thought we were buying a pork roast, but it turned out to be “bacon”. It was still pretty damn tasty.

The no-refrigerating-eggs thing was pretty strange to get used to, but I’m convinced they taste better than eggs in America.

Marks & Spencer tea at a very cold Stirling Castle. M&S is EVERYTHING. I miss it so hard.

The cold is never a deterrent when it comes to ice cream. This, folks, is a strawberry ice cream cone made with Scottish cream and the finishing touch-a Flake for added flair. Perfection. Just gorgeous.

We had no idea how to eat these. Do you heat them up in the oven and eat them with syrup? Are they eaten cold and plain? We never could decide how to do it, so, instead, we let them get moldy (which doesn’t take long in such a wet and humid environment).

We got bread with our fish and chips. Just a plain piece of bread. I found this really amusing.

Our first traditional fish and chips was in Stirling. They weren’t bad, but the lack of seasoning was a bummer. I always felt like an asshole heavily salting and peppering everything I ordered.

This is a Victoria sponge muffin I got at M&S. It was the best muffin I’ve EVER had!

It’s an acquired taste. It totally tastes like orange bubblegum. Right, Lorna?

This picture hardly does the sandwich any justice. It was goat cheese and roasted red pepper and one of the best sandwiches of my life. The soup was Moroccan vegetable and was divine, as well. All of this deliciousness was found at a small cafe on the shore of Loch Katrine in Scotland.

This is a cherry Bakewell tart cookie. It was just as delicious as it looks! I still have dreams of the sweet treats I had.

Black pudding. I tried it. That is all.

Whisky tasters. Not my jam, but, when in…Edinburgh.

Strawberry Scottish cream at Edinburgh Castle. I couldn’t get enough.

Delicious dining and drinking at Hector’s with some awesome friends.

My Scottish friends brought us Scottish treats. We demolished them way too quickly. Not pictured is the Scottish tablet. I’m legit addicted and am planning on making some at home. It’s straight up a diabeetus delicacy.

Tea time on the Royal Britannia

This was not exactly what I envisioned when I ordered cheese fries. But, cheese? Good. Fries? Good. It was all good.

All good bloggers hold their food up as if it were the second coming just for a good photo op.

This is a proper steak and ale pie. And, proper it was.

Tunnock’s Tea Cakes are LIFE!

A vegetation Scottish breakfast is pretty legit. Potato scones are AMAZING.

Scottish pancakes are seriously amazing. I’d trade in the American ones ANY DAY.

Have you ever seen a longer sausage ever in your life?

This was the day I wondered how far I could really push the sugar intake. And, I think the word is ‘glutton’, not ‘lush’…

Underneath those delectable-looking rainbow sprinkles is honey raspberry oat ice cream. AMAAAAAAAAZING.

I saw these everywhere. I always thought my sugar obsession knew no bounds. I could never let myself buy one of these. I’m still really regretting that decision. How will I ever know how dreamy they are now?

The beer was on point. And, on tap.

Remember how I mentioned Scottish tablets? Well, this is Scottish tablet ice cream. I almost fell down dead it was that good.

I discovered my love of shandys at The Corner House Hotel in Annan, Scotland.

The.best.mushroom.risotto.of.my.life

I ordered the vegetarian Scottish breakfast (because nitrates are a huge migraine trigger for me) and Mark, the guy running the hotel, kept asking me how my fake breakfast was!

The owners of The Stable in Brattleby left us a lemon curd cake that wasn’t just super kind, it was to.die.for!

I became full-on obsessed with hazelnut soya or oat milk lattes. I got one literally everywhere we stopped.

I found these almost-too-adorable-to-eat sprinkled donuts in Tesco.

Banoffee Pie at The Stables At Chatsworth House. It wasn’t until I got home that I put two and two together and realized ‘banoffee’ is ‘banana’ and ‘toffee’ put together. How clever (unlike me)!

When you think you’re being responsible by only getting a half pint, but then you end up getting four of them.

I met another fabulous blogger and friend at an amazing restaurant in Leeds that looked out over the city. These were some kind of ravioli and they were amazing.

This is a “whippy”ice cream with hazelnut sauce that I took a picture of in front of some important building in Lincoln. To be honest, I was only thinking about not losing my precious ice cream.

This was the best fish and chips we had on the trip. It only makes sense, because we had them at a local institution in the seaside town of Deal, England.

Day drinking on a Sunday right outside Canterbury Cathedral, but it was OK, because any behavior on vacation is acceptable. Duh.

The hipster avocado toast was alright, but cold pork pie with strange gelatinous filling is just not my favorite.

When in Cornwall (Please excuse my nails here and really, in every picture. I’m so embarrassed)…

We had a Pimm’s Cup right in front of Highclere Castle. Be jealous. It’s OK.

I would kill for an English scone served with clotted cream and jam!

A goat cheese tart and beautiful garden salad in Port Isaac. I really am having withdrawals now.

I can’t even remember what flavor this was because I was too bummed that my pic of my ice cream and the beautiful scenery would be tarnished by the cars in the parking lot. It’s a hard knock life for a loser Instagram addict.

I HAD to try a jacket potato with Heinz beans. It was fart- I mean- fantastic.

Just living the crammed-in-the-backseat-of-a-car-travel life. At least I had my Costa.

We almost missed our ferry to Dublin. Like, threw-our-luggage-dirty-underwear-flying-out-of-the-car-running-screaming-into-the-ferry-terminal almost missed it, so we all had a much-needed adult beverage on the ride over.

In a sea of gourmet, all-you-can-eat breakfast foods at our swanky Dublin hotel, what did I find to eat? Poop on toast? No, my friends, that’s Nutella. When spread onto toasted bread, it has magical healing powers (don’t tell anyone, but I also ate a waffle that same morning).

Guinness at the Guinness Brewery in Dublin? Duh.

The ice cream place at Kylemore Abbey closed before I could get a real ice cream. I had to settle for a freezer-burned Ben & Jerry’s ice cream sandwich. What will people think of me now?

This strange concoction of tart fruit and vanilla ice cream worked. It was so good.

There ain’t nothin better than putting your toes in the sand while you eat a “whippy” ice cream. Except when you get to do it at Inch Beach on the Dingle Peninsula…

These mussels we had in Dingle Town were magnificent.

The best fish cake I’ve ever, ever had!

I can’t believe my little trip down food memory lane is almost over. What was your best travel meal or treat? Let me know in the comments!

Global Warming Ruined My Trip to The British Isles

OK. So, global warming didn’t really ruin my trip, but it definitely whooped my ass pretty good and hard.

Hiding from the sun at Roche Abbey.
I got back from my five-week-long trip last Friday and my brain is just now starting to function again. I felt pretty discombobulated and spacey for several days after being awake for 24+ hours as I crossed four time zones on my long trip home.
I completely blanked on my dentist appointment the other day that I had rescheduled twice (currently looking for a new dentist, because I can’t show my face there now) and I’ve woken up every morning at 3 AM ready to rock and roll. Jet lag is real.
Or, maybe I had heat stroke and it’s still affecting my brain?
Yes, heat stroke.
You might not be aware, but the U.K. (and Ireland and probably most of Europe) is having a heat wave of epic proportions right now. We touched down right in the middle of this insanity.
I was not fully prepared.
I packed layers. I packed sweaters. A knit hat. Scarves. Long sleeves. A fucking coat.
We had a few glorious days in Scotland where a sweater and a coat was necessary. After that, Mother Nature said a big “Eff you” to my plans of having a lovely, cool, “typical” British summer.

The kind of summer where I get to wear layers to cover my never-ready-for-summer-body is precisely the kind of summer I want to have. (Edinburgh Castle)

There were a couple of days on the Isle of Skye when it was so chilly, I couldn’t get warm and it was everything I hoped it’d be.
(The Skye Museum of Island Life)
Crazily, it never reached higher than 85 degrees, but it felt like it was way hotter. Way.
WANT TO KNOW WHY?
1. It was pretty humid and humidity makes things that much more awesome.
Where I live, it’s not uncommon for temperatures to reach triple digits in the summer. It blows. I hate the heat. I hate the heat even more than I hate low carb diets. It’s that serious. However, if I had to choose my heat, I’d choose dry heat a million times over humidity. 77 and humid feels like dying a slow death on the surface of the sun.
2. There was no AC in most places. I repeat: NO AIR CONDITIONING (this included no trace of a fan anywhere).
When the weather normally only gets uncomfortable for a couple times a year, it’s not smart to invest in an air conditioning system. I get it. I was prepared for the no AC thing, because it wasn’t my first time in the U.K. I could have handled the odd couple of days of uncomfortable heat, but it was hot LIKE EVERYDAY.
It wouldn’t have been too horrible, but the places we lived in for up to a week had nothing to move the hot air around with. When you only have three pairs of pants that you plan on wearing more than once, it kind of sucks that you have swamp ass from sun up to sun down.
3. HEAVY DUVETS EVERYWHERE
So, it was hot. It wasn’t the end of the world. We were on a dream trip and we enjoyed every sweaty moment of it. I soon got used to feeling damp on every inch of my body, but what I never got used to was the lack of a certain essential element of American bedding- the top sheet (also referred to as a flat sheet).
Had it not been hot and muggy most nights, a heavy duvet wouldn’t have been a problem at all. However, when you’re a freak about your bedding and you have to be covered with something, the lack of a thin, cool flat sheet was really fucking terrible.
I’m sorry to every owner of every bed we slept in. The smell will probably never come out.
The one night my mom and I thought we were smart and took the cover off the duvets and just slept with the covers, it got really cold. Of-fucking-course.
So, that’s how global warming ruined my ideal British summer. Is there somewhere I can send my complaint to?

I am so excited to be back (well, actually, I’m really missing proper scones with clotted cream and jam, British pints, Mr. Kipling Bakewell Tarts, M&S Percy gum, and English mustard and ham crisps, but I’m dealing) and I’m ready to share all about our trip of a lifetime.
Check back each week for another travel satire post!

This is a satirical post, but global warming is real and it’s happening, ya’ll. When we were in Dublin, the server at a pub we went to said Ireland was on a 40-day no rain streak and he had never seen so many days without rain. This broke my heart, because what makes Ireland beautiful is the presence of rain-lots of it.
I know I’ll get some comments about global warming. I’m really not up for a debate on something that has tons of scientific evidence backing it up. If you do want to leave me a comment, please let me know what you think about this warm (hot) weather in Britain and elsewhere (if it applies). Or, tell me about a time you had some surprise weather on a trip.

Third Funniest Blogger, Baby!

I’m still positively shocked that anyone other than my mom thinks I’m funny. I mean, I occasionally make myself laugh, but sometimes I think I’ll eventually wake up. But, I don’t think this is just a dream, guys. I was voted 3rd Funniest in the Annual Bloggers Bash Awards. That must mean it’s really true. I’m kinda officially funny.
I’m so incredibly honored and excited to have made 3rd, ya’ll.

I was so excited and apprehensive the night before the awards (that happened in London, btw), I had horrible nightmares all.night.long.
They ranged from your usual holy-shit-I-forgot-pants-and-I’m suddenly-on-stage-in-front-of-a-room-full-of-people to the nightmare that I didn’t place.
See, these awards mean so much to me. Like, so.much. The excitement and anticipation leading up to the event was even better than a cupcake high.
Not only does winning an award help validate the fact that I call myself a humor blogger, the ABBA originated from the U.K. My Anglophile self is geeking out big time.
Not only do I feel pretty dang proud, I feel so lucky to have the readers I do. This was all thanks to YOU.
To those who took the time to vote for me, to those who take time out of their lives to read my words, to those who have liked, commented, shared, spread the word, THANK YOU.
THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU!
I’m immensely lucky for you all.
I also want to say a huge thank you to the ABBA committee. You have spent an immeasurable amount of time, heart, and thought into putting these awards together. Not only that, you’ve created an event that so many people have to look forward to and be excited about. So, thank you.

This is how I celebrated. Maybe I should be Fatty McDonuts.

Travel Tuesday Train Wreck

OK, so it’s not quite a train wreck, per se, it’s just total and utter crappola.
I’ve been working on my latest travel post that’s supposed to be posted today for a couple days now, but it’s just shite. It doesn’t have that oomph, that pizzaz (or pizza, as my phone really wanted me to say).
Between my regular full time gig, my side hustle, trip planning, trying to keep up with the bare minimum in household duties, and a few scheduled naps here and there, tapping into the writing passion that usually makes the magic (or poop, depending on who you ask) happen has been tough.
So, I’m sorry to disappoint you, folks (I know you’ve all been waiting with bated breath), but my Travel Tuesday post is going to be a Travel Wednesday post this week. I know that doesn’t have the same ring to it, but it is what it is, que sera, sera and all that.
Until then, here’s an image that will give you a possible idea of what my travel post will be about (can you guess?):

In the comments, tell me where you’ve always wanted to travel to, because I totally need another reason to be distracted!