Tag Archives: Birthday

You’ve Got Mail….. Paprika

9 Jul

We adopted Paprika on Oct 2009 when she was around 12 or so weeks old never knowing her actual birthday we decided that the whole month of July is Paprika’s Birthday.  For her birthday month she gets to pick what to watch on TV and choose what’s for dinner. Needles to say Master has started to get very creative with chicken and kibble.  So far we’ve had chicken sandwiches with kibble chips ( he wont tell me how he turned the kibble into chips, Chef secret! he said), Chinese chicken  with the kibble used as croutons, chicken soup with kibble crumbs, fried chicken with kibbles and gravy and I believe tomorrow is chicken and kibble pot pie.  Only 21 more days of chicken to go, August can’t come soon enough!

Paprika this year received an extra surprise, Gina the Min Pin Paprika’s Twitter buddy sent her a birthday gift. Below you’ll find a couple of pictures of Paprika and her gifts.

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Paprika here: I  would like to thank Gina with a big wet kiss and  a lady like butt sniff.

I also  would  like to remind everyone that there is still time to send me a card or gift.  I’m not to snooty to appreciate belated  gifts either. Winking smile 

Woof woof for now xoxoxo,

P

P.S In case you are wondering what I chose to put on my Netflix queue  so far I have Puss in Boots, Felix the Cat, Garfield the Movie, Garfield: A tail of two kitties, Phineas and Ferb ( Perry the platypus make me BOL, that’s bark out loud) Dog the Bounty Hounter but I believe the title is deceiving, we watched one episode I never saw a dog in it! Oh and the 7th season of House M.D.  I like to stay current on illnesses you never know when I’ll be out walking and someone might yell “Is there a Dr. in the house?”  They say a dogs love and tongue lick is the best medicine and I never leave home with either one.

XOXO

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Happy Birthday to ME!

16 Feb

It’s my Birthday today (Feb 16th) and I’m celebrating 21 long years plus the other 17 years that went by to fast of being alive.

Lets see what’s going on  at 38……..

It seems to me that my body aches more,  my muffin top is bigger, I  jiggle more, my boobies are a little more down to earth. No that doesn’t mean  that they are modest, friendlier or more approachable breasts, more like they are now closer to the floor then to the sky. My skin feels softer but with less elasticity. I think I’m also starting to sport cankles  not sure cause the muffin top blocks my view.

Jeez….. If this is how I feel and look now then what will it be like at 40? I’m only 2 years shy from it you know.

I really don’t see the bright side of this post anymore what exactly am I celebrating? 

Anyone?

Oh yeah! It’s my excuse to get Master to cook me some awesome Lamb chops, and eat as much cake as I want without feeling guilty.

So Happy Birthday to Me!

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P.S.

Just letting you know that once you have read this post I will be expecting a gift from you next year. You no longer have the excuse of not knowing when my birthday is.

And for those who did know about my birthday I ask you this “Where is my gift and when should I expect it?”

Green Means More……..

28 Sep

If you have read any of my other blogs, you will obviously call to mind that food is taken very seriously here! Very Very Seriously! When it comes to new food adventures, we have done it all! Well practically…. We have had enough sushi to put a dent in migrating habits of yellowtail tuna! We have tried every part of a pig except the squeal! There must be a boogie man story in chicken dens that mother chickens tell their young chicks. Eat all your seeds and go to bed or Pkitass and master will eat you! We have had every incarnation of chicken one can think of: fried, rotisserie, baked, grilled, smoked, BBQ’d, stir-fried, boiled, shish kabob, don’t I sound like Bubba from Forrest Gump explaining all the kinds of ways one can cook shrimp (boiled shrimp, bbq shrimp, etc.). Master himself has a Zen like appreciation of any and all things beef! He hears angels singing in the clouds and the sun shines like a beacon upon him when he finds that perfectly marbleized prime cut of Rib Eye or porterhouse.  

Last week was Master’s Birthday! He is now thirty ei-mh-mh- (making throat noises) years old.  That’s right in a couple of years I will be expecting to see Master arrive to work with his hair dyed platinum blond or really really dark black sporting tight leather pants while riding a Harley with a 21 year old blond sitting in the back. 

In honor of his birthday and to commemorated his thirty ei-mh-mh- (making throat noises) years of making the local female population every so happy, we decided to celebrate his many many many contributions to the female half of civilization by partaking in the Brazilian gaucho tradition of Churrasco and going to Picanha Churrascaria.  Churrasco is the Brazilian word for barbecue and Picanha is all you can eat baby! You guessed it! It’s the Brazilian version of an all you can eat BBQ. Well, with a twist! This isn’t your traditional BBQ place of baby back ribs and pulled pork with a heavy BBQ sauce. Nope!  Churrasco describes a 300 year old Brazilian tradition that originated in the pampas, or prairie ranchlands, of Brazil.  In the churrasco tradition, gauchos (Brazilian cowboys) barbequed marinated beef pork and poultry on long skewers over an open fire pit. Imagine every kind of cut on meat on shish kabob skewers on steroids! When you are seated at your table, there is no menu to order from, instead what you get is a small wooden cylinder the size of a salt shaker with green on one end and red on the other. Yup! You guessed it! Green means GO!! And… I think, from what I’ve been told, Red means STOP. Not that we ever bothered with that end of the indicator!! Once the Green is facing up on your table, a myriad of traditionally dressed Brazilian gauchos (cowboys) with riding boots, hefty leather belts and whips begin a graceful dance of sizzling meat! Each gaucho carries a sword ladened with various types of meats crackling and hissing straight from the fire pit. The skewered meat is carved right onto your plate so you always get that super tasty and savory outer caramelized portions of each cut. That night alone we enjoyed a flurry of fire roasted meats including Fillet Mignon, Garlic Steak, Tri Tip, Bacon Wrapped Chicken, Sirloin Tip, Pork ribs, Spicy Chicken, Mongolian Steak, Polish Sausage, Linguica (Brazilian sausage), Parmesan Pork Loin, Masters favorite (Pichanha, a super choice part of top Sirlion mariniated in garlic and zesty pepers), and My favorite (Leg of lamb marinated with lemons garlic and oregano).

Waiters at Picanha

Being a renowned veteran of the Korean BBQ scene, and having prepared all day in anticipation of the overindulgently boundless and amazingly flavorful debauchery of tantalizing carnal feast, I thought that my malicious and malevolent gastronome partner and I would do some serious damage to this Brazilian manifestation of meaty delight.  We hit the ground running! It was surreal… all one could notice were the whip wearing blue shirts in a seemingly chaotic yet oh so well-orchestrated prance of sizzling meats!

Look at all the meats!

 

Tri tip? Why sure!

Fellet Mignon? But of course!

Polish and Brazillian Sausages? Now who could say no to sausage?

Picanha? Ha ha ha.. need you ask?

Pork ribs? Heck give me two!

Leg of Lamb? Ehm…. Can you just leave the entire skewer?

Multiply above conversation by 5 or 6

After 45 min or so… I saw it! I almost cried in the middle of the restaurant! Noooooooooooooooo! Say it aint so! Say it aint so! The dreaded look of defeat in Masters eyes was apparent! How could this have happened? How? What could have caused this? Did he go to a breakfast buffet in the morning that I didn’t know about? Did he just come from a luau? How can he be full already! Only 45 min in!!! HOW??? Its grilled meats for gosh sake! GRILLED MEATS!!

What can I say? Master is obviously not the fearlessly gluttons connoisseur of all things meat that he used to be! It must be the age! Thirty ei-mh-mh- (making throat noises) years has put a toll on the reinforced, some say armored, indestructibly durable stomach of his!

When it came time to pay, I obviously jumped out of my seat and grabbed the check. I guess if he can’t eat like a man, It will be up to me to undertake the burdens of Manly tasks! Pansy! ( Buuuuuuurp….  Scratching my crotch!) You see, not hard at all! Like any Manly baller, I didn’t even look at the bill! I just whipped out the cold hard cash from my purse…. Ehm back pocket…. And put it on top of the check.

Paying the bill with an oversized $100 bill.

The anticipation of the waiter to come and get the check was almost as fun as all the meats we consumed that night.  With a very serious face, fighting very hard the overwhelming urgency to laugh my head off, I began a conversation with Master as the unassuming waiter attempted to collect the check for dinner… I just couldn’t hold it! I had to laugh! And not just laugh a little, but laugh like you laugh when you’re in 4th grade and the kid across the table accidently farts during lunch in a very quiet cafeteria and the milk you were drinking squirts from your nostrils because your laughter was just so uncontrollable! Never the less, our waiter was not as amused as we were! Who cares! It was all well worth it! Another delightful epicurean experience notch in my belt!

Happy Birthday, You

3 Aug

    

 26 years ago I still collected Hello Kitty stickers, pencils and erasers. My favorite pastime was to slide down the stairs on a cardboard box. It was 1984 and I just had turned 11 that year. The Karate Kid, Beverly Hills Cop and Gremlins were showing in theaters. Wake me up before you go go by Wham the Relfex by Duran Duran were playing on the radio, and the summer Olympics was held in Los Angeles. It was that year that I first set eyes on her. She was pointed out to me thru the glass window that separated us. She was so tiny and hairy that I ended up saying “she looks like a monkey! I think you’re showing me the wrong one” . Never the less she was the one that showed up at the door a few days later.   

26 years ago I met my little sister, the monkey that would end up being attached to my hip for so many years. She was a handful from the start, there was no stopping her. She was all over the place, crawling and hiding in empty diaper boxes, hiding in closets and cupboards. I can still hear her screaming in delight as I pushed her down a steep hill in her stroller while she flapped her arms and yelled at the top of her lungs ‘“Mas Mas Mas!!”     

  She no longer is a tiny hairy monkey but a grown woman and a mother of 2. Regardless of how old she gets, to me she will forever be that little girl that cried to have her hair glued back on, went to church meetings with her little yellow chair, always wanted to eat something different than what was offered, and the pain in the butt kid that would follow me everywhere. 

Happy birthday you spoiled brat!