Wednesday, May 30, 2012

Hatfeilds, McCoys and the Inbread


I sat through all 6 hours of the "Hatfileds and McCoys" mini-series on the History Channel. It was actually pretty interesting. My favorite part was how you really couldn't choose sides. Both sides had good and terrible people. I'd also like to go on record saying that Jenna Malone's character, while a total whore, was also quite the bad ass. She was honestly the only woman that actually gathered information and got things done rather than sitting around dying and crying and having sick babies and crap. 

Yes, I'm talking about you, really ugly pale girl with the misshapen face. You were so anticlimactic. "I'm going to do the dishes." Plop. Dead. 

Also, were me and my family the only ones waiting for the special guy to die since the first installment? It's not that we wanted him to die, it's just that you could feel his death coming throughout the whole series. It reminded me of this 1955 documentary that I saw once called Age 13: The Inner Life of an "At Risk" Teenager. Throughout that entire short film you expect things to be molested. I say "things" because it wasn't just the boy or a little girl towards the end. At one point you honestly expect a cat to be molested as well. I swear to God, you think the uncle is going to go to town on a cat. It's not that you want it to happen, it's just that it seems like it's going to and you cringe and brace yourself for the horror that's going to happen and then suddenly the movie is over and it's both a relief and a "disappointment" for lack of a better word. Not disappointment because a traumatic event didn't happen, but disappointment because you prepared for something horrible and you feel lame for having done so when literally nothing happens. I think he runs away on a train or something really 1950's bad teenager-like. "Dick! Little Bobby's fallen off the wagon now. I caught him listening to some of that devil music and now he's run away to join the circus!"

It's no secret that I'm obsessed with the eras between 1940 to the early 60's. I think this was the most amazing time to live in and everything about it makes me wish I'd been born decades ahead of my time. I would have hated to be alive during the early days of America though. There was nothing glamorous or fun about those times. I'll take an era where I can poop indoors and cook without having to chop and burn wood first. Plus, I'm a big fan of personal hygiene. 

Speaking of cooking, dinner tonight was nothing really special. It's a few days before the next pay period so I went really cheap and simple with tonight's dinner. I made lemon pepper baked leg quarters with roasted bell pepper and onion potatoes that roasted in the dripping from the chicken. Yummy and a huge comfort food, but not exactly something I think requires a recipe. It's literally "chop all the veggies, season that and the chicken, throw in the oven and take out when everything is cooked."

That being said, instead of posting a recipe tonight I'll be taking the cat breading craze to the next level and posting a picture of Moses, my Yorkie, in a tortilla. Ole!








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