Micro-fiction based on real events.
Lunch today was pot-luck. Pot luck is when everyone brings something and we share. Sometimes pot-lucks are coordinated where everyone brings a part of a larger meal. Like a taco pot luck where someone brings tomatoes, another brings lettuce and so on and so forth. Sometimes it is completely unplanned and open to whatever. Today’s pot-luck was the chaotic, unplanned variety. I made what was in the fridge.
Bacon. I love bacon. I bought a 4lb block of chunky-cut, hickory-smoked bacon earlier this week. I cut the block into half pound portions and froze it. For the pot-luck, I used two of these.
Shrimp. I already had a half package of two-hundred count shrimp. I don’t eat shrimp that often, but every blue moon I want some with a salad or to just boil up in some rice.
Mushrooms. This week, I really felt the need for salad and have been eating rabbit food most of the time and also why there is still some bacon in the fridge. I bought a two pound package of sliced mini-portabella mushrooms Monday and still had half of the package last night. These mushrooms were nice, firm, smelled earthy and were very flavorful.
Marinara sauce. I had a half jar of Wal-Mart brand marinara sauce in the fridge. It had been there for months and since there wasn’t any mold growing on it, I decided it was okay to eat.
Whole grain rice. I have one hundred and fifty pounds of mixed whole-grain rice. Mostly Korean hyun-mi sal, but also different American long grains, rolled barley and pearled oats. I only cooked two cups of rice.
I also have a handy-dandy rice-cooker and a crock-pot. In the crock-pot, I loaded in everything except the rice and set it for low. I didn’t add salt or pepper because bacon and canned marinara sauce has enough to for several meals. The rice I cooked in the rice pot. Because I did not want problems with my roommates, I cooked everything in my bathroom. The crock-pot was percolating since ten last night and the entire house smelled of yummy, cooked bacon this morning. I had cats at various times trying to get in or yowling at the door. Since the roommate I’m fighting with owns the cats, I did not let them in to share. Who knows how he would misconstrue me feeding them fatty bacon and not from the can shrimp. This morning when I woke, I mixed in the cooked rice.
At lunch, one of the women asked, “Did you just throw a bunch of junk from your fridge in your crock-pot to bring?” There were some really elaborate meals there and some great desserts. The guys who work there though brought store bought stuff. Cookies. Chips. Dip. Soda-pop. “Yes,” I said. “I sure did.” “You are such a bachelor!” she said as she passed my still burbling crock-pot by. None of the women would touch it, but the men ate it all up.
Maybe I don’t get it, but very few if any can get it all. I think Ms Slaughter should be grateful for the fantastic fortune she has. To me, she comes off as a great snob, a rich woman who forgets poor and middle-class women never even get close to the money, education, and fortune her class has given her. Yes, I know she works at a University, but this does not make her middle class regardless of her income. Being a high-ranking member of the political apparatus and teaching in the ivy-league make her part of the bourgeoisie, part of the 1%. Her entire rant is a prime example of class elitism.
Artistically, I borrowed heavily from one of my favorite webcomics: The Bean by Travis Benson.
I drew this years ago. I had been helping a female co-worker with her physically abusive husband. This is not her, just an impression of her emotions every time I went with to a potentially violent (I started going with her after he had publicly beaten her–I did fight with him twice, but always stopped short of what this bully truly deserved because of his three confused & crying daughters), court-ordered, week-end child-exchange in the Orem Wal-Mart’s parking lot under their cameras.
This picture was drawn with Micron Pens and digitalized in PhotoShop Elements (no editing or alterations).
This comic was drawn entirely with an extremely dull Fine Point Sharpie & edited in PhotoShop Elements.
I read an article in the Huffington Post about the recent Nun v Catholic Church Hierarchy spat. Now, I’m not a Catholic (though I’m sure many of my ancestors were), so I’m not going to criticize the Catholic Church. This is a cartoon about Sister Oceane who lived directly upstairs from the mormon missionaries in Uijongbu, South Korea. I would often run into her on the subway. She was always accompanied by a Korean nun. Sister Oceane’s Korean was marvelous, but her round French accent when she spoke Korean made the locals stare as if they were looking at a martian.
In case your are wondering, we got along fantastically. I hope when and if ever I go back to South Korea, I’ll see her again.