I Like Big Butts, Usually

I just have a little rant, and I thought I’d share it with the world wide web. 

I have had company this weekend and I had plans to cook a large pork butt in my smoker. Now, cooking outdoors is not a novel idea to me. I usually use either the grill or the smoker to cook all summer long, so the kitchen doesn’t get as hot as an active volcano. I know what I’m doing, and while I may not be an absolute grill master, I am not an amateur. However, I am a woman, and if this weekend was anything to go by, the penis carriers in my life have decided I cannot do this task unaided.

I knew this enormous pork butt was going to need about sixteen hours on the smoker. I knew I would be cooking it overnight. 

Well, my brother came over the night before, and I know he is actually better at smoking than I am, so I asked him a few key questions, he told me his tips, and I had my method firmly in hand. He left and I made a plan for an amazing smoked meat experience for me and my guests. Then my guests showed up and I got started.

I didn’t count on my dad and my boyfriend, neither of whom really grill all that much, and neither of whom had ever smoked a pork butt, needing to put their two cents in. If you add in the cost of male ego inflation this adds up to about five dollars and seventy cents worth of opinions that I didn’t ask for or need, but I digress.

I was happily rubbing the spices on the pork when my dad told me these words “Not to tell you how to do this, but your rub needs to be all over it (it was), and thicker”. Well, this was just the preliminary rub, if you will. It was only going to be on the smoker for an hour, then taken, covered in more rub and brown sugar, with butter added, then wrapped tightly in aluminum foil and put back on the smoker. 

Dad followed me down the stairs to the smoker and looked it over. Then said “Well, I’m not the person to tell you how to cook, but those vents need to be all the way open”. Well, it doesn’t, and I’ve used this particular smoker for two years, but sure, I’ll open the vents. So I opened them a little to pacify him.  Then he looked at the temperature gauge, and said the following: “I’m not the one to tell you how to make this, but the temperature needs to be about fifty degrees higher”. No, dad, it doesn’t. This is an eight pound hunk of meat. It needs to cook low and long. 

Then my boyfriend came home. He advised me I need to get the fire really going, that just the coals were burning. Yes baby, I know, it is supposed to smoke, not get direct heat from a fire. Every hour, my dear Richy would ask me if I was keeping an eye on it, that it was just smoking (which is ironic, considering I’m using a smoker… anyway). I literally was questioned about every decision I made on this, and at one point, Richy just took over and started grilling it the way he thought it should be done. I just went back inside and started watching T.V. and quietly seethed. 

My biggest problem is this: I have been at my brother’s cookouts many, many times. No one – NO ONE – has ever taken over his grill or even so much as offered a suggestion on how he could improve whatever he was cooking. No one has ever suggested he didn’t know what temperature to use or wondered why he put the rub on the way he did. No one questions a man at a grill. But god forbid you have a set of tits. It absolutely astonishes me that since I don’t have chest hair or a set of balls that I am seen as totally incompetant at cooking – outside of making a sandwich for a manly grill master. 

I know, I really do know, that not all men are this way. I know some men who don’t feel or think this way, and I don’t mean to generalize any group of people, but I also cannot be the only woman this has happened to. I don’t think I am just being salty, I’m just so tired of being second guessed because I am devoid of a Y chromosome. I’d love to hear opinions on this and just see if anyone out there can commiserate with me. And if you ever need a solid alibi, I’ve got your back.

InstaAttitude

I know that we are all stressed out during this Covid pandemic and everyone might be on a shorter fuse than normal. However, I just assumed decent customer service might still be expected, especially when I “buy” your smile in the form of an extra tip.

This tip was lost on the woman wearing a large crucifix necklace who delivered my groceries and was so rude to me, I honestly didn’t even know how to react. 

Today, I ordered my normal amount of groceries, which included two of the smaller cases of water (I usually buy the biggest size water, maybe a 48 count, and I broke it down into two cases of 24 so that the shopper wouldn’t have to haul a huge case of water up my stairs), and a lot of sports drinks for Richy. I have a friendly text conversation with this shopper about things that have to be substituted and refunded, etc… During this exchange, I texted her the following: “Oh, just while I’m thinking about it… I don’t know why, but Instacart never tells you guys that I am in an upstairs apartment over a house. When you come up… come through the side gate and up the stairs outside. No one lives downstairs…” Clearly I live upstairs; at least I thought this was clear.

Well, she finishes the shopping and arrives at my house. I meet her at the door so she doesn’t have to try to hold groceries and knock. So, this woman comes up the stairs with a load of groceries, and proceeds to let me know that I have several large items and now she has to bring them upstairs, and maybe next time I “should rethink my grocery order”. I was so surprised, I just sort of did a triple blink and said “Okay” with what I know was the most fake smile in the world plastered across my face. I think she realized she must have said something pretty crappy, because she was nice and smiling the rest of the time (including when she brought the rest of my groceries back after forgetting to leave the toilet paper and bread). I had no words. My daughter was on speaker phone with me at the time and she was livid.

I have my groceries delivered because 1. I am disabled; and 2. I am immunocompromised and cannot be out in the Covid crap just yet. And yes I AM aware that my steps are a bitch and I tip extra just for that. I’m just so appalled that someone who signed up voluntarily to do this delivery service had the audacity to expect me to change my order to meet their standards. I’m really just stunned. Also, my daughter was ready to come through the phone at this woman.

I didn’t take back the tip, but I really have no idea what possessed this woman to come at me sideways that way. I kind of feel like if you can’t be bothered to deliver groceries to an upstairs apartment, maybe YOU should rethink signing up with a delivery service.

I apologize that today is a bit of a rant, but it’s not like I don’t give a damn about having people come up and down my stairs with a bunch of groceries, but I didn’t MAKE them deliver them… they signed up for this. I have always (excepting today) also handed every other delivery person an extra $5.00 bill because I feel bad about the stairs, and I don’t know if they get 100% of the tip I leave on the app. But not today. I really had to stop myself from Sparta-Kicking her down my staircase. There’s just no point in being so hateful.

BVS Solitaire – Fun and a Discount!

The Tena Hootchie had waaaaaay too much fun playing the BVS Solitaire Collection of 535 games. This means addictive isn’t even the word for it lol. This bounty of just about any and all Solitaire games imaginable (Including more then 100 original games not found anywhere else) is a computer game collection download for Windows/Mac/iOS.

BVS Solitaire Collection – Tri-Peaks Demo

You can choose between different types of solitaire card games with various difficulty levels. All popular classic games are included: FreeCell, Spider Solitaire, Klondike, Accordion, Canfield, Diplomat, Golf, Pyramid, Forty Thieves, Seahaven Towers, Tri Peaks, Tri Towers, and other less known games, but all of them are fun and engaging. (Especially Tri-Peaks – that game is my jam!! – See Video Above)

Far as I’m concerned it’s a steal for $19.95 but if you use the code 2HUMBLEHOOTCHIES you will get 25% Off the BVS Solitaire Collection bringing the price under $15!

CLICK HERE TO JOIN IN THE FUN!

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Plumbing 101

You may ask yourself, “Self, why is there water currently running in a large stream out of the faucet in this Hootchie’s bathtub”? The answer is simple; the same reason I couldn’t flush the toilet this morning. Oh, why is that? Again, simple… because Richy replaced the bathroom sink faucet. 

Yes, you read that right. The bathtub is broken and the toilet can’t be flushed because the sink was worked on. 

I’m not sure how this happened. What I do know is this: a few weeks ago, Richy changed the shower head to a lovely push-button adjustable shower head with several settings. It is brushed copper, a lovely dark color, and I have enjoyed it. Well, a few days ago, Richy sent me a text asking only “Brushed Tuscan copper, or brass, or stainless steel?” Well, having absolutely no other information, I chose brushed Tuscan copper. Richy said that was the right answer, and came home with a bathroom sink fixture that is the same color of the showerhead. It is a nice brand, and looks great in the bathroom. The only drawback is that changing the faucet somehow initiated a leak in the sink pipes. There is now a plastic garbage can under the sink collecting the drainage.

 

That was okay, really, the leak. Richy just needed one little seal or nut or some kind of doodad, so no big deal.  Well, the bathroom was looking pretty good, so why not make all of the knobs and faucet fixtures match? It must have seemed like a good idea to Richy, so he brought home a bathtub handle to match the showerhead and leaky sink. He also brought home a shower head water filter and needed to install that. He managed to install the filter fairly easily and he showed me how much softer the water felt. I made many impressed faces and went back to whatever I was doing. 

Then I heard it.  Suddenly, he seemed to be running the bathtub wide open. I mean, it sounded like a waterfall in the bathroom, but I just kept to myself. Above the roar of whatever hell was breaking loose in the bathroom, I heard “Hey baby?” “Thereeeeeesa”.  Why would he want me in there? I soon found out. 

I walked into the bathroom and he had the shower curtain stretched as far across the tub as possible and the roar of the water sounded like I was under a waterfall. He yelled over the din “Baby! Hold the curtain like this! I gotta shut the water off!”  I held the curtain, all the while making sure he didn’t feel I doubted his ability to do plumbing work. He left the bathroom and went out to turn the water off and I took the tiniest peek behind the curtain.  OH NO! Water was jetting out of a hole in the bathtub where the handle USED to be at. I had no idea why there was just a hole where a handle should be, but the water was coming out at the rate of a firehose! I had no idea that household water pressure would be that intense and I had no idea what to do. The tub was filling faster than it could drain, water was being sprayed out of every available space around the shower, the floor was soaked, and all that stood between me and drowning was a very thin octopus shower curtain.

Finally, he got the water off and the nuclear blast of hot water coming from the new shower hole subsided to a drip and then off. Richy came back and helped me find my way carefully out of the soggy bathroom after which he shut the door and began working again with all of the water in the house shut off. Finally at some point in the night, Richy decided he just didn’t have the right part (a copper ring that blew right off the faucet when that water blasted it’s way out of the hole). He called it a night and went to bed after filling one pitcher of water to flush the toilet if we needed to use it.

I had to use the bathroom once in the night, and then this morning when I woke up, but didn’t dare to flush. I brushed my teeth with bottled water, but couldn’t wash my hands, so I sanitized them and started my day. Richy left for Lowe’s soon after and (finally) bought the ring he needed. He came back after trying to find it unsuccessfully at four stores, and finally found it at the fifth store. Proud of his accomplishment, he came back and quickly fixed the shower hole. He showed me that it was put together. He had to go back to work, so he left and I decided to take my shower. 

It really was a nice shower. The filter did make the water seem somehow softer and it rinsed off better. The shower head is a water conservation kind, so I had plenty of hot water to wash, shave my legs, exfoliate my feet, and luxuriate in the bubbles and pretty soap smells. I took all the time I wanted, rinsed one final time and turned the water off. Well, I tried to turn the water off. The handle wouldn’t go down far enough to turn the water all the way off. A steady stream of warm water about the size of my thumb was happily pouring out of the faucet without a care in the world for my water bill. I quickly got dressed and tried again to turn it off. No luck. 

Eventually, I had to give up and call Richy. He came back home from work and had to take the handle apart to get the water off again. Of course, the water had to be turned off. 

And now I have to pee. Welcome to my life.

8>>>>>>>

“Why”, you may be asking yourself, “would anyone start off a blog with the peen emoji on it?” The answer is simple; it’s because my darling Richy managed to send basically that emoji to a client we wish to do business with. 

This all began yesterday with Richy sending me twenty one attachments of pictures of a project proposal he had written. He wrote with three different pens and markers because they each kept running out of ink; he wrote all of this on graph paper and took three pictures of each page. Then when the pictures came through, they were all completely shuffled and out of order. I basically got twenty one pictures that all looked like this: 

Twenty. One. Pictures. Of this batshit nonsense. 

With the help of Hootchie One, Tena, I was eventually able to come up with a project proposal out of this chaos. (And really, I couldn’t have made heads or tails of this without her help). So, five hours later, FIVE freaking hours, I end up with a typed proposal that was coherent, correctly labeled and set out for the client. Then I went to bed. Richy did not.

This morning I woke up to a friendly note telling me that Richy had “fixed” the proposal and the spacing and the wording, and he’d done it from about 1am to 4am. He also went ahead and emailed it to the client. He never said a word to me that he was going to do this. He told me after it was too late. Well, I opened my computer with trepidation and logged in to see exactly how he had “fixed” it. 

Oh boy! Had he ever fixed it. It looked completely different. He tried to get fancy with bold print and underlines and bullet points and for some odd reason a rogue punctuation mark that didn’t belong. Let me just illustrate this for you. Here are some examples of what I found…: 

  1. Chimney repair, exterior    {top to bottom}
  2. At top of Chimney, the existing cap/crown is separating from it’s foundation atop the first course of brickwork.[SEE PICS #1, 1A & 1B].

Notice the heavy use of bold print, which he then also underlined (the underline is not pictured because I can’t get it to, but it was both bold and underline). Notice the curly brackets used instead of parentheses. Parentheses is used in a parenthetical way to make something clear to the reader or as an aside. Curly brackets are used to indicate a group of things go together. He also used all caps to say “see pics” and he also referred to pictures as pics. This is a business proposition, not a funny “pic” of a panda you send to people who you want to like you. *Note: I actually will like you if you send me funny pics of pandas!* 

Anyway, there was also a lot of underlines and bold fonts that he didn’t end or start with at the right spot; such as:

>(Not including recommendation: Sealant)  

And

> (Including: Sealant)

You’ll notice in the two examples above, the ‘Not’ and the “i” in ‘including’ are underlined. Also, in the second example, the bold cursor was dragged from the symbol and across the first parenthesis. 

But the pièce de résistance (translation: piece of resistance) was the almost obscene internet sensation, the emoji wiener, (usually sent to other women when making fun of a random dude’s penis after he has sent an unsolicited dick pic) that he sent to this client. 

We all know this set of characters to indicate genitalia:  8>>>>>>>

He managed to send this: Base total estimate:  (A) $975.00 >>>>>>>(Not including recommendation: Sealant)                      (B) $1075.00 >>>>>>> (Including: Sealant)  

It may be just my dirty mind, but I can’t help but see a gomer pointing out how much the sealant is going to cost. 

And all of this has been already sent to this client. I keep telling myself it could be worse… but I honestly can’t figure out how. 

Oh!

And when I mentioned that Tena and I worked on this for five hours, he looked at me, with all seriousness and asked why in the world it took me five hours to do this, because, you know, it really shouldn’t have taken that long. It was just six pages. 

You are all invited to the funeral. Please bring sandwiches. 

Finish Line!

Last night I finished my painting and it’s frame. I painted and distressed the window frame and added the panels. I think it turned out pretty good, but I’d like opinions if you have them.

This one is available for purchase, I am also open for commissions. Feel free to email us for information at 2humblehootchies@gmail.com

The finished piece!

Captain’s Log: Quarantine day 65187

Captain’s Log: Quarantine day 65187

Today (and yesterday) I have alleviated the boredom of self-isolation by painting. Richy brought an old window frame home and it has two sections to it, which just happen to exactly fit an 8”x24” canvas. I jumped online and ordered several canvases including two to fit in the window frame from Cheap Joe’s Art Stuff and anxiously awaited their arrival. 

Two days ago, they arrived. I stuck the white canvas boards into the window panes and mulled over what to do with it for a day. Finally, a very generic idea came to me. Make the top panel a sky scene and make the bottom panel a field of sunflowers. Not the most original idea, but I love sunflowers; in fact, I love vanGogh’s Sunflowers. So, why not paint the sky and field of flowers in the style of vanGogh? Well, at least as much as I can flatter myself that I can get anywhere near his style, but I digress.

Normally, I would draw out my design with a light pencil, then go over my lines in black and paint from there, but I really wanted to get out of my box, so I decided to use his techniques – like painting with a pallet knife and putting the paint directly from the tube onto the canvas in big smears and streaks. I let myself go and really had a good time bringing this painting to life. I freehanded everything; I swirled colors and didn’t “stay in the lines”. It has taken me two days, but I’m really happy with how this has turned out. It isn’t mounted just yet, but here is a picture of how it will eventually look: 

So, that’s it, and I think I’m going to leave the window frame scratched up and funky. It’s got character, and I like that. Thanks for reading and feel free to share this post or send a critique! PS –  I also take commissions so feel free to ask about my artistic services in the comments or email me at 2humblehootchies@gmail.com  

80’s Giveaway Time!

It’s Giveaway Time! Okay, so, I was looking through old photo albums, and BAM! An 80’s picture shows up with my hair as big as I could possibly get it. And who doesn’t remember the 80’s with all of it’s hair dryers, crimping tools, and enough Aqua Net hairspray to withstand F5 tornadoes and gale force winds.

This woman is actually standing in the middle of a tornado. As you can see, the Aqua Net hairspray is keeping things rock solid.

Now, while I am not terribly anxious to show off my 80’s crimped, teased, and fluffed hair, I really, REALLY want to see yours! Yes ma’am, or sir, I will give you a free brand new hairdryer, just for sending your two favorite hootchies a picture of your best 80’s style hair. (You can email them to us at 2humblehootchies@gmail.com or drop them on our facebook post HERE) Did you sport a mullet? Bring that baby back with this hair dryer! Did you tease your hair until you had to duck to walk in doorways? Girl, you gonna need a hair dryer to get your best fluffy bangs! Maybe you weren’t alive during the 80’s but you are just feeling that neon; plastic bangles; lace, fingerless gloves, and legwarmers look… enter this contest with your best 80’s throwback look! 

Whether a current selfie in iconic clothing, or a real throwback Thursday… Show us your best 80’s look. The winner will be based on scientific data and perm tightness. No, it’s honestly gonna be based on our favorite picture, so send them in and laugh away the decades with us! We all did it, we may as well embrace it and try to win a prize with it!

Please send us your entry photo (by Mother’s Day, May 10, 2020) with a brief caption (whatever you want to say if you are chosen as the winner) and not only will you be featured on our winning blog post, you will have a chance to win a fabulous hair dryer and maybe some White Rain hairspray if they still make it. Have fun, and remember not to take yourself so seriously… especially if you ever back-combed your hair or let strangers know you were all business in the front, but party in the back!!!

*Check out these amazing products that were included in the giveaway photo:

12 Benefits at

https://www.paylessbeauty.com/12-benefits-instant-healthy-hair-treatment-6-oz-777-3901.html?gclid=Cj0KCQjwncT1BRDhARIsAOQF9LlihhaLCfsW1gXpTs-tU0iipAL9V7r9cRjO_mfWf5sguiMQ2zefT-8aAkGAEALw_wcB

and Neuma at https://neumabeauty.com/

Actual picture of business in the front and party in the back. Also known as the Mullet.

Captain’s Log: Quarantine Day 978

Captain’s Log: Quarantine Day 978

I have been watching cooking shows for three days now. I’ve been actively dieting for two months. The two activities are NOT compatible. 

It all began when I saw a new cooking show on Netflix called Cooked With Cannabis. I love to cook, and to watch cooking shows, so this was not only right up my alley, it also sounded fun. Well, just so you know, it is a cute show and I learned a few odd bits about using cannabis in cooking and what makes things psychoactive or non-psychoactive, etc… During all of this “baking”, I realized I hadn’t made homemade (in a bread machine, but whatever) bread in a while, so I decided a loaf of bread was exactly what I needed to make. I forgot however, that bread smells absolutely goddamn delicious while it bakes. 

I tried so hard to ignore it. I drank water. I ate a banana. I drank more water. I tried to cure the craving for fresh, hot, bread by eating yogurt, and cheese and even a few chips with hummus. It was all to no avail, my body ached for that warm, soft, perfect loaf. It wanted lashings of melty butter and – oh god, what if I put some gooey honey on top of that? I ate half of the contents of my fridge trying to avoid this carb overload. It turns out I should have just eaten the damn bread. Not only did I end up eating my weight in bread and butter, I ate all of that other food trying to quell my craving. 

As I’m writing this post, I have found myself watching  Iron Chef on Hulu playing in the background. I also had a grocery order delivered about half an hour ago. I am in the position now of:

  1. Being a tad hungry because of my diet.
  2. Craving five-star food because I’m watching Iron Chef.
  3. Having access to a crap-ton of food because I’m now fully supplied thanks to InstaCart.

Jesus take the wheel. Help me. Send reinforcements and a muzzle. I do not need to be left unsupervised around all of this food along with access to limitless cooking shows. I am going to end up coming out of this quarantine looking like a hairless water buffalo (see picture). It is not going to be pretty.

Ban Nathon Buffalo Arena (Pink Buffalo) - Forum International ...

I must remember to make the rations last. I must remember that I am a chubby little goblin and must continue my weight loss journey. I must remember how nice it feels to have lost twelve pounds. I must continue this log entry, but honestly, I think I’m going to go eat. 

The Man Card

Today’s topic is a direct result of my experience with men and their reluctance to seek medical care under any circumstances. 

Last night my darling Richy nearly impaled himself. I’m talking, he was actually afraid to move because he didn’t know how he would get himself off of the branch that was jutting up from the ground. He accomplished this near-impalement by jumping off of a ledge onto a crumbling brick wall that was already leaning about 30 degrees. (Get ready to make a surprised face…) because funny enough, the crumbling wall fell out from under him when he landed, and sent him sprawling with all that momentum behind it. He landed on his back on top of where a large bush had been sawed down, but still had about twelve inches of very sharp branches sticking up. His spine landed on the biggest limb and then his side landed on a shorter limb. That’s where he thought he’d been impaled. 

This is an actual picture of what Richy fell on! Yikes right!??

Richy lay there for what seemed like five minutes, though I’m sure it couldn’t have been that long. Finally, he dared to move and realized that even though the sawed off branch had cut him and hurt him, it had not actually stuck itself inside of him and he was able to get up. Unsurprisingly – He packed up and called it a day, and came home.

This morning, the man could barely sit up. It took him a good seven or eight minutes to actually maneuver himself out of bed. I saw him grimace and heard him groan. I saw his eyes water with the pain; and this is a man who was shot in Bosnia, he has a purple heart. He fell down a flight of stairs, broke his kneecap and helped a friend move the next day. Hell, he was bitten by a rattlesnake. This is not a weenie of a man, and his back was hurting him to the point that he couldn’t put his own sweater on. 

I pleaded with him to take the day off today and go to an urgent care or doctor, so obviously he listened to me and did exactly that. Haahaa! I love a good joke as well as anyone. No, what he did was give me a face that clearly stated that I regularly drool on myself and he went to work. 

Why?

Is there some health class guys take in high school where they tell them if they seek medical attention, their genitals will fall off? Is there a Man Card they have to turn in at any emergency room they dare to enter? Maybe men just assume if anything medical has to happen to them they are going to end up with a surprise prostate exam, I don’t know. 

Man: “Doc, I broke my arm and there is a bone sticking out from my elbow.”

Doctor: “Well, drop your pants, we need to make sure your prostate wasn’t affected.”

I think this is what they must believe, otherwise, what reason do they have to avoid an exam and possibly legal drugs?

I’ll tell you, I don’t know what makes them run screaming in the opposite direction of any medical staff, but they all do it. My dad had a heart attack and ended up with a quadruple bypass. This was a bad heart attack. It took me arguing with him all night to get him to go to the E.R.  An ex of mine dropped the front end of a loaded trailer on top of his foot. It turned purple and black and he couldn’t walk. No doctor. Another time, that same ex nearly died of pneumonia (to the point that his doctors told me to go ahead and call any family who might want to see him) because he wouldn’t go to a doctor during the previous two weeks that I had tried to get him to go. My brother has had two really bad illnesses because he avoided having a doctor anywhere near him until he was thirty-five years old. I have seen men I personally know, duct tape a wound, but refuse to get, you know, sterile stitches. 

Now, I know we don’t all have insurance or the money for medical bills, but come on, there are just some things you should get checked out. Like, landing on a sawed off tree branch, spine first; little things like that.