I’m Tellin’ All Y’all It’s Sabotage
Dr. Ding is considering having some sort of theme to each week’s bloggue ripostes. Such as, oh, I don’t know…sabotage, perhaps?
Then again, maybe I’ll just keep cranking out the randomly interconnected, discursive reflections and rants.
In the meantime, help yourself to a big serving of “Sabotage” by the always funk-e-fresh Beastie Boys.
Now That’s Good Eatin’
Dr. Ding has been nearly overcome by her urge to visit her brother, Boopy, in Iowa and remain there indefinitely. Why? Simple. Every time I visit Midwest Neurotica I am transported back to an earlier, simpler time in my life when my biggest worry was whether or not my layered socks matched my “Flashdance” sweatshirt, or maybe to a slightly later time when the major concern was if my homemade pegged jeans and jazz shoes were suitably New Wave.
Y’all: make me a dish of this delightful confection created by Starxlr8 and you shall reign in my heart forever, kinda like GirlJesus™ but without the holy silver go-go boots. Unless of course you do happen to actually own a pair.
Buffalo Chicken Enchiladas
Serves 41/2 can cream of chicken soup
1/2 cup blue cheese dressing
1 large chicken breast
1 T butter
3 T Frank’s Red Hot sauce
3 corn tortillas
1 cup shredded mexican cheese
2 T chopped scallionsPreheat oven to 375 degrees. Combine soup and dressing, set aside. Cut up chicken breast into small pieces and saute until golden. Add butter and hot sauce to coat. Meanwhile, crisp corn tortillas in a skillet or on a griddle. Spread some of the sauce mixture in the bottom of a round casserole dish. Then layer tortilla, sauce, chicken and cheese. Repeat once and top with final tortilla, cheese and scallions. Bake for 15 minutes.
Dear Dr. Ding
Dear Dr. Ding:
I hope to Goddess you can help me.
I practice Wicca and have done so since my early teens…I work as a receptionist/transcriptionist in an office where we’re supposed to be in the business of helping people with drug and alcohol problems. (I have noticed that some of your other “Dingers” whove wrote in work for these kinds of agencies, so maybe they could comment too for added input - I would totally welcome it!!) I am 28 years old, have a college degree in theater, and as I mentioned I am a practicing pagan, and not just on weekends! I am not what you would call a fluffy bunny pagan. I don’t advertise my faith, but also I don’t keep it a secret. There are a couple of inconspicuous altar items on my desk, and sometimes I wear faerie earrings, but other that those things, you’d really have to look hard. I take Goddess-worship seriously, I don’t do it for fashion reasons or to show off my feminist cred.
My problem is that my boss — a recovering alcoholic with like (more…)
Creatively Original Post: FAIL
If you haven’t yet checked out The FAIL Blog, you must do so immediately. Laughing will most assuredly ensue.
The power of Christ compels you.
Damn these gasoline underpants I’m always wearing.
Confessions of Dr. Ding
Bless me, GirlJesus™ for I have sinned.
These are my sins since the time of my last confession.
1. Forgot to blog about the death of Arthur C. Clarke.
2. Didn’t eat any Easter Bunny chocolate in honor of you and your awesome holy silver Go-Go boots. Plumb forgot.
3. Have been tormented by incessant recollections very bad 1980s hair-metal (not to mention entire K-Tel record and tape commercial soundtracks) and have complained vociferously to any and all who would listen.
4. I haven’t been honoring you and your Immaculate Heart of the Platform Shitkickers by celebrating your Last Brunch with the customary ritual of drinking an entire pitcher of frozen margs at Chi-Chi’s, followed by nachos con queso. Sorry.
5. Last, in order to exorcize myself of the Hair Lords’ hold on me, I’m inflicting this video on my unsuspecting readership. I do, however, resolve to go and sin no more and to amend my life as you would have me do, all Nancy Sinatra-style.
Amen.
4 Easy Things You Can Do To Fuck Up Your Life
1. Give away your personal power like it was welfare cheese. Let people inflict their myopic opinions on you. Stuff things when you should be saying them out loud. To people. Say yes when you mean no, and watch your power dwindle because of your aversion to disapproval or conflict. Grow accustomed to not being heard. Slowly lose your self-respect from the continual leg-humping.
2. Constipate yourself when it comes to expressing positive, genuine sentiments. Shield your heart from all hurts as well as from anything resembling passion, abject adoration, surprise, ecstasy. Learn to live without brio, elan, eclát and a bunch of other foreign words that signify you’re a mighty, kick-ass existential mofo.
Don’t give heartfelt compliments or praise to others unless there’s something to be gained in so doing. Lose the ability to distinguish your sarcastic responses from your authentic feelings. Don’t reach out to attempt to connect with others or to a greater sense of meaning, purpose, identity. Look cool and aloof but also spiritually empty and blunted around the edges, sorta like a 1950s beatnik who never, ever takes off the trenchcoat/beret combo.
3. Always play it safe. Don’t date or socialize outside your religion/income bracket/education level/ethnicity/Web 2.0 cronies et cetera. Defer your dreams due to fear of ridicule. Don’t risk. Miss out on countless time-suspending moments because you’d rather worry about some undefined point in the future where something bad, somehow, might possibly happen, maybe. Because you’re like all psychic and shit.
Spend a lot of time wondering what might have been but take no action in the present. Save string. Catalogue your underwear. Get your panties in a bunch regardless. Fall asleep at inopportune moments from the benumbed tediousness of it all, and end up with children drawing outlandish Sharpie moustaches on your face.
4. Doubt yourself. Always assume that at any moment you shall be revealed as an impostor, a fraud, someone who is Less Than. Decide that no one is going to take your ideas and plans seriously, and act accordingly. Create interesting diversions from your lack of self-confidence by engaging in self-sabotage: draining relationships, unplanned pregnancies/fertilizations, deadend jobs, 3-martini lunches, frantic socializing/golfing/shopping/video gaming.
Don’t challenge yourself by following your true purpose because you just might fail, or worse yet, actually succeed and then not know what to do with yourself. Allow others to dictate what your limits are. Surround yourself with people who don’t believe in you, either, so that you feel more comfortable. Wear a big ole ass groove into the Couch of Life.