Alcohol

Love, Italian-Style

So there’s this really cute, young checkout guy at the supermarket; he’s tall with dark hair and amazing green eyes, and we’re always chatty with each other, which gives me false hope that he’s interested. Anyway, he’s always asking me about food and what’s good and what’s not, so it’s a good excuse to make frequent trips to get supplies that I don’t need, and I can get in his line and drool over him!

Well I hadn’t gone in for a long time because the last time I was there, I was feeling particularly delusional, and I slipped him my telephone number… and he never called (which was a big surprise) so to save face, I avoided going altogether. That is, until the other day, when I just had to see him again, and of course I didn’t need anything in particular and I was on my way to a party, so I just quickly grabbed a banana and got in his line without even thinking!

Well let me just tell you this; if you have a crush on the cute checkout guy at the supermarket that you flirt with, who’s much younger than you, you should never, ever get in his line just to buy a banana because it’s totally obvious! Well he stared at the banana for a moment and I looked away pretending that something else caught my eye, and then our eyes met but we didn’t say anything to each other because what the hell can you say about a goddamned banana except the obvious?! So if you’re gonna stalk the young checkout guy at the supermarket, I suggest buying some alcohol because at least you’ll look like you’re there to buy something legitimate and not just getting in line to gawk at something you can never have! Then you can go get drunk and cry over how ridiculous a goddamned banana is!!

ahem.

Way better than a banana!

Way better than a banana!

Okay, strawberries.

I had some the other night in a cocktail and it was one of the most delicious cocktails I’ve ever had! I went to this restaurant in Oxnard and… Jesus Christ, I wish they would change that horrible name… who the hell wants to live and dine in a place with a name that sounds like a set of cow balls? They should call it Oxford, no one uses that name.

Now as you all know, I love Italian food, and this place was just too much to resist. I know, who cares? There are thousands of Italian restaurants in this damn county and we don’t really need anymore, right? Well, we have lots of mediocre (or downright awful) Italian restaurants, but very few great ones. And, we have even fewer great ones that are reasonably priced! In fact, I’m not sure that I’ve ever found one that was reasonably priced and great…

…until now.

Of course, if you open a great Italian restaurant in Oxnard, you’d better be ready to have reasonable prices because who wants to eat at a fabulous Italian restaurant in Oxnard, for crying out loud?!

I’m going to write about one of their cocktails first, and then move on to tell you about the food I ate, which you may have already guessed, was pizza. The place is called Settebello and I’m sure some of you will have difficulty pronouncing it, just like the other Italian words you mispronounce (and like my Russian name) but I’ve learned to live with it. Just don’t refer to mozzarella cheese as moozarella because that’s not how you goddamned say it!!

Anyway they made me this delicious cocktail with strawberries called The Amalfi Coast, and I drank the entire thing, plus my companion’s (she didn’t like it anyway) It’s also got Flor de Caña rum, Campari, St. Elizabeth Allspice Dram, lime and Demerara sugar, and it was so good, I’d drive all the way back to CowBalls to have another one!

But did I mention that their pizza was amazingly delicious and only ten bucks? They import the flour, olive oil and tomatoes from Italy, so it’s super authentic Neapolitan-style pizza, which means the crust was thin, slightly charred on the outside, with a slight chewy bite, like a good crust is supposed to be. The tomato sauce was made with sweet, fruity San Marzano tomatoes, and it was all topped off with creamy mozzarella bufala and fresh basil. When it came out, it was all melty and bubbly and crusty and chewy from the wood-fired oven and (oh boy, I’m really hungry now) and I stuffed it in my pizzapiehole and it completely, temporarily made me forget all about Mr. Dreamy Supermarket Checkout Guy!

So what’s the moral of this story? Eat pizza, not bananas!

Settebello

The Collection at Riverpark

2760 Seaglass Way

Oxnard, CA

(805) 988-1095

Categories: Alcohol, Food, Humor, Pizza | Tags: , , , , , , , | 8 Comments

When Push Comes To Shove-It

Preggers… Jesus Christ!!

Oh heavens no, not me, I’m not preggers, thank God! I’m no breeder… and frankly, don’t tell anybody this, but I find it slightly disgusting, you know?

It looks so awful! None of my designer clothes would fit, my ankles would get swollen and I don’t want my belly distended like that. Well, unless it’s a food baby, of course (I sometimes get that way when I eat too much dairy too), but for nine months straight? That’s like eating beans 24/7 for 273.9 days and at the end, you have to squeeze out a bowling ball… no thanks hanky panks, where’s the goddamn glory in that?

Look, I know how all that crap starts too. It starts when you decide to let a man dip his cucumber into your Mint Julep… and hello?! Cucumbers don’t belong in Mint Juleps!! You can put ‘em in Mojitos, but the last thing we need around here in So Cal are more goddamn little Mojitos running around!

I mean, just how many kids do you have to make anyway? One should be enough… two’s pushing it, and three’s a job pool! Okay, I guess they’re great if you wanna have ‘em for cheap labor to clean up the house and take out the garbage whenever you tell them too, because Lord knows, once you allowed Mr. Cucumber inside your avocado, he turned into a couch potato, so someone’s gotta do it!

Listen, I don’t really mind all you fatties, I just get annoyed when you’re busting ass through the mall, pushing your goddamn GIANT, TRACTOR-TRAILER BABY STROLLER with your goddamn Jamba Juice in your chubby fingers nearly running me over… Jesus Christ! You think just because you cooked up a baby that you’re the queen now? You’re trying to push everyone out of your way with a baby canon, didn’t you do enough pushing in the birthing room?!

Are you pissed off or something?

Okay, I agree that’s a silly question… I’d be pissed off too if I had to deal with something that eats, shits and cries all day… and not just Mr. Couch Potato but the goddamn baby, too!

Happy Mother’s Day, by the way! 

Look, the last thing I wanna do on Mother’s Day, is go out to eat somewhere because everybody is miserable, and you wanna know why? Because they’re EATING WITH THEIR MOTHER! Or even worse: their mother-in-law, hahahahahahahaha!

Now I remember why I’m single.

willett

Oh yeah, I’m single again.

I mean, not again as in a g a i n, like it’s some sort of vinerial… vanereil… venereal disease. Being single isn’t like being preggers, where there’s something wrong with you, it just means that you’re supposedly taking a GODDAMN BREAK… whatever the hell that means! Yeah? Well I hate your mother’s cooking and I never liked the way you licked my Mint Julep anyway!!

ahem.

Speaking of Mint Juleps (the official drink of the goddamn Kentucky Derby #whogivesashit) did you know that Bourbon is the new black? Yeah, I guess it’s the hot, new trend and all the ladies are drinking it now… well, except for the preggos. I’m not partial to it myself on account of getting sick off of the stuff when I was 16 years old with Bobby from across the street and…

nevermind.

So anyway, I don’t really like it but my friend asked me to try hers one night and it went down really smoothly… for about two goddamn seconds… and then my throat literally caught on fire! No, it’s true, I burped and it lit the candle on our table.

Funny thing is, I don’t remember what the stuff was called. Well, besides “bourbon” of course (I guess I’m really sensitive to alcohol or something) but anyway, there are all these small batch bourbon distilleries popping up all over the country, and they’re supposedly getting better and better at making the stuff and now it’s becoming a national pastime. Move over Jack, there’s a new sheriff in town!

I guess it doesn’t matter which kind you drink really, because at the end of the day, it’s all the same: you find yourself half-naked in the men’s restroom of the country & western bar at 2:00 am…

…right?

Categories: Alcohol, Beverages, Funny, Humor, Sarcasm, Satire | Tags: , , , , , | 2 Comments

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