Naughty or Nice?

I have been distracted from posting about the triumphant Tuna graduation by last minute Christmas shopping.  Fighting my way through mall crowds and supermarkets doesn’t make me super sparkly. As you may recall, the tradition of the Stocking Box involves an overflowing of holiday cheer filled with doodads from socks to booze.  Mrs. Tuna has consistently bought a little slinky something, something for the Big Tuna’s box since he is always on Santa’s good list.  Normally I would order something online, but with gifts arriving daily for Sheldon and the Brit’s wedding I was afraid it might be opened by young love by mistake. Awkward.

I opted to make a stealth trip to the local smut store. It has a reputation for not making you feel like you need to wrap yourself in saran wrap to avoid creepy cooties.  At the driveway entrance stood a sad, middle aged, Santa hatted,  female employee holding a “Got Naughty” sign, adorned with garland.  My shiny new sensible car did not look out of place with the mini vans and four door sedans with baby seats.  The ding dong announced my entrance and eager young assistants bustled over with cheery offers of help.  I mumbled a bumbling “no thanks”, avoided eye contact, sidled over to the sale rack.

The most awkward part was how the people milling around were in my middle aged demographic. They were all entirely too comfortable in these surrounding, some were pushing around overflowing SHOPPING CARTS. A burly man holding a set of garters up against his waist, the man in the suit and tie reading the back of the DVD’s for I’m sure the story line.   The Deck the Halls Christmas music seemed completely inappropriate against the dialog of the instructional vibrator videos.  I have the perfect recipe now that we all feel a little dirty.

Dirt Cake

8 ounces cream cheese

1 cup powder sugar

1 large instant pudding

1 ½ cup milk

12 ounces cool whip

1 pound Oreo cookies

Grind Oreos is food processor and set aside. Mix cream cheese and powdered sugar until  smooth.  In separate bowl, add pudding with milk. Mix well. Combine cream cheese mixture with pudding. Fold in Cool Whip.  In flowerpot, layer Oreos then pudding mix. Top with Oreos, add silk or edible flowers (don’t trust me, I’m not sure qualifies as edible). Serve with trowel.

As I stood with my purchase clutched in my hands, I already felt reluctant to use my debit card since it would leave a paper trail. The clerk asked if I wanted to join their frequent shoppers club, it was FREE! Stopitstopitstopit.   Fortunately, they packed me up in a black bag to hide my booty and I skulked out the door, slithered into my car and drove away.  So here’s a little gift to you my band of followers.   A Merry Christmas Team Tuna, happiness and love to all. 

The Big Day

Today marks the end of school for Sheldon and I. Please ignore how crooked my dumb stole is! Post for stage spotters and crazy hats to follow.

Death Becomes Her

So there Mrs. Tuna was, whipping along the freeway in the super-fast lane, when she heard the little “poink”.  A seemingly innocent little sound spelled the end of my fateful steed.  As power faded away, I used my Nascar instincts to bolt to slow lane, frantically dialing the Big Tuna of my demise. Literally, choked, curled into the fetal position, and died in less than a mile at the bottom of the off ramp in under 2 minutes.   

My truck, with 166, 567 miles, had given up the ghost.  Apparently, when your oil pump craps out at 75 MPH it causes your engine to seize in an irreparable way within seconds. With all the expenses of the ASU, Sheldon’s wedding and the Big Tuna’s new business launch we were hoping old Bossy would limp along until spring.  It was a spite death; we’d put brand new tires, rotors, brake pads, and spark plugs in only the week before.  She could sense her days were numbered until she went to the big trade in lot in the sky.  I would have been even more pissed if I’d actually run it through the stupid car wash over the weekend.

My man drove the 20 miles, tow rope and in hand and pulled me to the nearest parking lot.  We jumped in his man mobile and dropped my pretty little ass off at Endless Engineering. She looked so sad and abandoned as we drove away.  I was only 45 minutes late and still beat Boss 1 and Boss 2 into the hood by 7:20 AM.  Its days like this that make you want to inhale an entire desert, so let’s shall we?

Texas Sheet Cake

2 cup sugar

2 cup flour

½ teaspoon salt

1 cup water

2 tablespoon butter

½ cup sour cream

2 eggs

1 teaspoon baking soda

1 teaspoon vanilla

4 tablespoon coco

Place sugar, flour, salt in mixing bowl. Boil water, butter, coco. Pour boiling mixture over dry ingredients. Mix well. Add sour cream, eggs, soda and vanilla. Bake in greased jelly roll pan for 20 to 25 minutes in 375 degrees.

Cake Frosting

6 tablespoons canned milk

4 tablespoons coco

2 tablespoons butter

1 pound powdered sugar

1 teaspoon vanilla

1 cup chopped nuts

Mix milk, coco and butter and cook until fluffy. Pour into mixing bowl and beast in sugar, then adding vanilla and nuts. Frost immediately.

I.hate.car.shopping.  Even more than my mammogram, which is infinitely more painful when you belong to the itty titty club. I will pause to give you a moment to reflect on the enjoyment of squashed boobs over the horror being held hostage by the lounge lizards of car sales.  The first dealership introduced me to Hayseed Hank. He spent the entire time talking to me with a toothpick in his mouth. When the Big Tuna arrived on scene, he completely ignored anything I had to say and began “man to man” bromance bullshit.

If one more of them had said, “my, what a firm handshake you have little lady” I would have beat them with my stiletto.  While Sheldon and I test drove options,  she got on her smarty pants phone, price compared and found the identical model for $750 less.   Bam, done.

In the twilight hours of the delivery, Wyatt, the 12 year technology geek from Ford patiently showed me all the hands free gadgets.  He called me madam. Punk, just show me how to turn on the headlights so I don’t have to punch you. I am almost able to rationalize the cost since I cut my gas bill in half in my new little tiny Ford Focus. All I can think now when I hear the tick tock tick tock of the blinker is car loan car loan car loan.  Ah well, just remember in the future, the lady in the grey economy car with her blinker on trying to get in your lane may be me, just give me a break. It’s been a rough week. Good week Team Tuna. 

The Poisoned Pen

Mrs. Tuna’s writing ability has been held hostage by a variety of counter intuitive actions that have kept her from writing fun and amusing anecdotes about life in Tunaville.  I am squeezing every ounce of creative writing for the powers of evil rather than good. Here are some shining examples of how I’m wasting my 65 word per minute typing skills.

For my Movement and Motion Planning class I penned:

"The dialogue of the story depicts the unsettling and uncivilized continent of Africa. The wandering of the main character Marlowe, reflects how he changed his perception and outlook on cultured society versus the untamed world. "

Instead of writing about Sheldon’s near impersonation of a Lindsay Lohan panty flash at her Wedding Shower.

Or my rewriting of an employment cover letter for a friend:

“I believe I would be a great fit as I have the experience to effectively connect from a customer and contractor perspective. While my inside sales background is limited, I have been actively involved in undertakings that parallel these tasks. “

Instead of describing Bebe giving us a pole dancing demonstration in the Bat Cave.

Or creative proposals for Endless Engineering to be considered for big ass projects:

“Endless Engineering has a proven record of success completing hundreds of miles of roadway projects through both public and private infrastructure improvements across the State of Arizona. “

Rather than the new marketing chick who was more of a penis hire whose previous experience was medical sales and Budweiser promotion, fondly denoted as “Beer Girl”.

But my neglected followers, the end is in sight. Mrs. Tuna and Sheldon will be graduating from Arizona State in a mere four weeks.  It’s down to one term paper, two exams and a formal presentation of the horrors of Food Deserts and I’m all yours.  While I’m not actually cooking due to my crazed schedule, I will provide a bit of nourishment for your starving masses.

Pesto Sauce

2 cups fresh basil leaves (cheap date a Trader Joe’s) Rinsed and dried

2 cloves garlic crushed

1 ounce pine nuts

2 ounces grated parmesan cheese

2-3 tablespoons olive oil

Salt and pepper

12 ounces Pasta cooked per directions.

In food processor, add basil, garlic, pine nuts and parmesan cheese, pulse for about 30 seconds. Keep motor running and slowly add oil. Add to cooked pasta and toss to mix and serve hot.

Oh the places we will go in a few short days. All the scoop on Sheldon and Brits wedding plans with crazy hair fascinators, the adventures of Beer Girl with her manicured nails,  and those whiny college punks in Ugg boots and with shorts so tight you can see the outline of vagina lips.  Admit it, you’ve missed my smutty ways.  Good week peeps.

Blogging is never having to say you're sorry....

I know, I suck. School, work, wedding, work, riding, work, husband, work, homework, work. Mrs. Tuna is about to turn into a cheater. Here is a repost so that you don't think I've died on the vine. I've lost 5 followers in the last week. Likely due to neglect. Blogging is never having t say you're sorry. But I am, really. xoxoxoxoxo


The Chore Wheel of Death
It always seems to be an age old struggle of Men versus Women. While I had been a child bride in the stone ages, my mom ingrained in me that I wasn’t allowed to be a fragile flower and needed to be my own financial sugar daddy. The Big Tuna came from a more traditional upbringing where the little woman would hook up a big post church Sunday dinner and birthing babies. It’s all about negotiating. But somehow there are a few kinks in our chore wheel.



Every Saturday I do the grocery shopping, pen poised in hand quizzing Team Tuna on needed items. I do not have ESP to see that you are out of deodorant or ketchup a vegetable I do not eat has run dry. This however translates into 27 phone calls while at Safeway for missing items and several loops back to the condiment aisle thus ensuring my exercises for the day. I have to go before noon, heaven forbid there isn’t anything in the house for lunch for the starving masses.

But I have been making this trip for over 25 years, I’m always gone for 47 to 53 minutes and yet………no one is available to lug in the 83 pound bags. Excuses range from I was in the shed, taking a shower, mowing the lawn, going potty. Didn’t you hear me kicking the door in the 500 degree heat shrieking that the Cherry Garcia was melting?

Why is it that recycles are left at the end of the counter instead of walking the THREE additional steps to the recycle can. I even bought a great big one so you can’t complain it’s too full. A side note, the recycle people don’t take dryer lint, it cannot be woven into a new sweater. It should go in the other can, RIGHT NEXT TO IT.

Laundry is the bane of my existence, pushing it through the washer and dryer and piling it a gigantic pile in the middle of our bed does not constitute doing the laundry big guy. Nor does washing my work blouses and bras with jeans. I don’t mind folding it but untangling the maze of wire hangers to drape up our work clothes I hate. I live for when Kathy the Wonderful comes to clean the house every other week. She even DOES MY LAUNDRY, neatly folded and put away. Let’s bow our heads in thanks for the cleaning woman.

In honor of the Sunday dinner here is what we’re eating out our house tonight.

Beef and Broccoli

1 pound round or flank steak cut in 1/8” strips
Salt and pepper
2 tablespoons oil
1 clove garlic minced
1 medium onion minced
2 ½ cups beef broth
2 cups broccoli florets cooked
1 ½ teaspoon corn starch
2 tablespoons soy sauce

Sprinkle beef with salt and pepper. In large skillet heat oil, add beef, onion and garlic and cook until meat is browned on all sides. Add beef broth, cover and simmer for 10 minutes. Mix cornstarch, soy sauce and a bit of the heated broth in a small bowl. Add to meat mixture, add broccoli and stir until sauce has thickened. Serve over hot rice.

In all fairness I’ve never mowed the lawn or strung the Christmas lights. All that mechanical stuff gives me the willies. One day at work I was rushing out of the office to get home in time to prepare our anniversary dinner my boss asked, “And how many years of marital bliss is the lucky Big Tuna having?” At the time we’d been swapping wedded saliva for 15 years I answer 2. You see it’s not always rainbows and puppies, marital happiness happens in 10 minute increments Viagra notwithstanding. Just call me Vanna White.

Return of the Naughty Schoolgirl

And we’re off!!!! Back on the gerbil wheel now that ASU is back in session. But I should be wary given the short life span of rodents. When Sheldon was a kid, her hamster Phoebe had looked a little peaked. When I called the vet they said they didn’t treat exotic animals. Since when was a $5 hamster considered an endangered species?  As the oldest chick in class, does that make me endangered or just dangerous? I floss freshmen out of my teeth.

As usual, I carefully scrutinize my horoscope on my very first day of class each semester.  As a 4 ½ star day, how could I go wrong?  “Ordinary aspects of your life seem to shout out for extra attention.” (Well Duh, who do you think you’re talking to?) “Someday you’ll be really glad to look at the pictures you took today.”  (Uh oh, did they follow me to the Wine Bar/Bat Cave after class?) I can see the end of the road in December when I hop, skip and jump to the Bachelor of Science.  Of course now I’m toying with solidering on for my Masters because I am a glutton for punishment like that. What are another two years and twenty thousand dollars?

In my History of Flip Flops class, the teacher called me a rock star for knowing all the answers. I don’t care if the 12 year olds hate me; I want to be the top of the heap.    I also can’t tell you how ECSTATIC I was that stupid couple from last semester isn’t in any of my classes. As you recall, they were the ones who were more focused on boinking like bunnies then actually doing any work.  If I were “disrespecting” you I would have called you bitch. Hope the little fuckers failed out.   Since we’re back to only having 14 seconds to cook, this week will be fast and furious.

Penne with Ricotta and Bacon

1 pound penne pasta

8 slices of bacon

½ onion minced

15 ounces whole milk ricotta cheese at room temperature

10 fresh basil leaves chopped

In large pot of boiling water, cook penne until al dente. Reserve one ladle of cooking water, then drain the pasta and transfer to serving bowl. In medium skillet, cook bacon until crisp. Remove bacon and add onion. Cook until golden about 10 minutes. Stir the onions and ricotta into pasta along with the reserved pasta cooking water. Crumble the bacon and sprinkle it over the pasta with basil.

Sheldon’s wedding plans to the Brit are moving along. I found a secondary dress. She rejected the first one, thinking the seams looked like it was inside out. Like you never woke up and put your shirt on backward before running to Starbucks.  The wedding colors are navy and silver, originally they were dreaming of orange and blue. All I could think about was the receiving line would have Denver Bronco cheerleaders with pompoms cheering Gooooooooo Marriage!   Hopefully, since she has once again deactivated her Facebook she won’t read this. Sheldon Honey.....tact is for people who aren't witty enough to be sarcastic. Wishing you a fab week Team Tuna!!!! 

Going for Gold

As  Mrs.  Tuna creeps from the dark recesses of her Bat Cave, blinking her eyes against the harsh sunshine she wonders where the last few weeks have gone.  Her back and thighs have the permanent marking of the sofa embedded and blending with newly formed cellulite from lack of exercise.  Where have you been demand her family, friends and followers?  She has spent the last 17 days with the remote control firmly grasped in her fingers watching……..the Olympics.   Warmly hypnotized by the Olympic rings,  wrapped with an American flag,  she has watched it all from Sir Paul McCartney's slightly off key opening to the reuniting of the somewhat weathered and used up Spice Girls.  I’m pretty sure those ladies can no longer be considered “girls”.

It is always fascinating to see what is actually considered a sport. Trampoline? BMX Racing? Really? But as usual, I am not intrigued by the usual things like the world record breaking relay races.  Instead I will be giving my own personal highlights of the big games.  

Is it just me or did the Women’s gymnastic team act like frin-enemies? Little fake hugs, oozing jealousy mean girl faces, like they were smelling poopy diapers.  Sweet Gabby was the big winner and the other girls couldn’t stand it.   Bitches.

 Or that the underwater cameras show unflattering “adjustments” of the athletes following the platform diving.  Every single one of them groped themselves in a very graphic manner, just airing out the boys so to speak as they broke the surface of the water.

How about Ryan Lochte’s mom selling him out as a Man Whore. Too busy for girls except for a love them and leave them one night stand. We’ve all had similar Mommy missteps where our parental unit has sold us out in front of peeps we’re trying to impress.   Like the time my mom told everyone at Christmas dinner that my tube top slipped off since I didn’t have boobs, like my Sistah, to hold it up.

Here is a little ditty that you can whip together to not leave your seat on the couch.

Texas Corn Bread Casserole

½ pound ground sausage

½ pound ground beef

1 medium onion chopped

½ medium green pepper chopped

1 can tomato soup

1 tablespoon brown sugar

¼ teaspoon salt

¼ teaspoon garlic powder

1 teaspoon chili powder

1 package cornbread mix

1/8 teaspoon paprika

In 8” x 8” baking dish combine sausage, ground beef, onion and green pepper. Cover and microwave for 3 to 5 minutes or until meat is no longer pink. Drain, mix remaining ingredients except cornbread mix and paprika. Microwave on high 5 minutes. Prepare cornbread mix according to package directions. Spread over hot meat mixture. Sprinkle paprika evenly on top. Microwave for 6 to 7 minutes or until cornbread is set. Let stand 2 to 3 minutes.

I wish the future British son in law had been available to explain all those English oddities to me. Like what’s up with the zigzag striping on the pavement (apparently, never, ever parking there).  Hair fascinators, why do they all look like a bird threw up on their head?  And the easy one, why do they all drive on the wrong side of the road? Ah well, I guess that make me Snarky Spice.   Have a good week Team Tuna.