ModernSauce

Put a bush on it.

2012-02-09T22:57:00.000-05:00

I think by now we know that I like my interiors warm and comfortably weird and my exteriors cold and severe.

hot desert dry humps

Just like this adorably harsh California Roll house by Christopher Daniel (which probably does NOT have warm and weird interiors) sitting in the middle of the desert. With nothing around it. Not a tree... driveway... privet hedge.

so many facets of orgasmic bliss in this chapel by S-M.A.O. Sancho-Madridejos Architecture via +Mood

And look at this piece of pointy fabulosity that looks like it appeared miraculously in the middle of this scrubby desert... Where do I park my high-mileage Toyota because I'm about to circumnavigate this beauty in the rough...??

Architects, you build towers of concrete and steel and misunderstood loneliness that are perfectly complimented by empty alien landscapes. We get it. Your buildings are so important and delicious that nothing else - not even the glory of the Earth herself - can fuck up your elevation.

And by 'your buildings' I really mean your ego.

And by 'ego' I mean your penis.

I know you want us to gasp at your giant erection on the horizon but I think I'm getting desensitized to proud displays on Martian landscapes.

Make it look like people actually inhabit these places. Put a tasteful mailbox out there. Maybe a garden gnome. Hell, I'll take a few angry looking cacti. Because there IS such a thing as too much manscaping.

Take a minute and imagine what the corresponding netherjunk looks like... Homosensuals (and some lady peoples) I'll give you a few extra minutes because I know some of all y'all really do love a Color Me Badd-looking downstairs party.

But for the rest of us, yeah - THAT'S what buildings in the middle of the nowhere are starting to feel like.

We've all heard that the shorter the grass, the taller the tree but you ain't foolin anyone. We all agree that your buildings are badass. Just put a damn shrub out there - a little greenery to soften it up. You know, the way gawd made you.

If you need some help with finding gawd might I suggest you sit in the corner underneath that cross and wait for the sliver of light to touch your face.

Because I like it when gawd touches my face (or scratches my back if he's in the mood and has that kind of Law of Friend talent) I was a little stoked to find this new home built by Satoshi Akada.

via Wanken (kind of an appropriate title for this post...)

Is that a jungle on top of a Brutalist house?! Fuck yes, please!

And that must be an angel descending from the heavens so we can play with the Slip 'N Slide on the lawn! My bathing suit is already in an excruciatingly painful wedgie just thinking about it!

You grow all UP on that concrete wall, Vine, because that's what you were made to do! BE your vine-ness!!

Now, if a dude wants to shave The Last Supper into his pubic hair I don't really care because it's not my business or my body. But after seeing this place, I can say I definitely prefer my buildings to look like the landscaper apocalypse happened about 10 years ago. Like somehow all the gardeners and landscapers and retired seniors and high school boys that mow lawns were all strangely killed in some terrible meteor accident and yards went crazy. But then stopped growing because I suck at maintaining my yard.

Like the scenery in I Am Legend without all the cranky vampires.

If you're looking at these glowy Thomas-Kinkade-made-a-modern-house images thinking you're tripping on fairy juice again (you might be, I don't know your life!) don't worry - they are 3D renderings of the real thing. They're like digital merkins, if I'm going to commit to this metaphor.

But I don't even care that they aren't real because that's how hot I am for the enchanting jungle house of modern delights.

Inside, a unicorn reads a book on an Eames lounger.

Ok maybe some things should just stay the way they are...

Madame Sunday and the Technicolor Avatar

2012-02-07T21:44:00.001-05:00

I'm a lucky Madame because I have a great group of friends with lots of special talents (and strong muscles) that I get to benefit from. It's the Law of Friends that if you have a special skill you have to share it with your homies. For instance, if you have a friend that's great at baking then you get cake a lot. If you have a friend that's great with technical stuff then they can help you set up your Nintendo 64.

It's always good to reciprocate with your own special talents because it's polite and it's the second Law of Friends. Sadly, I have no special talents other than being really good at scratching backs (or your scalp if that's your thing) or having a dildo joke ready for any occasion. Funeral? "I'm sorry for your loss. Your grandmother lived a full and long, long life. Seriously, that skank old. I bet her dildo was scrimshawed."

Sometimes if it's an especially somber funeral I can follow with a whale bone pun but that's only for emergencies. You're welcome, friend. *hug*

One of my super saucy friends and bloggers in crime - Slade Roberson - just so happens to have the power of the unicorn people for doing psychic shit as his special talent. So in accordance with the Law of Friends I asked him to read my aura. DON'T YOU ROLL YOUR EYES AT ME!!!! We don't pick our talents. Do you think I want to think about your grandmother's special hope chest or scratch your pimply back?

Well, I do kinda like scratching...

After a glass of wine and some prodding it turns out the colors best associated with me - my general aura - (not the minute-by-minute changing one; think bigger picture) is purple and yellow. More precisely, dusty plum and sunshine yellow. What kind of Mardi Gras/Lakers shit is this?

I think my friend used his powers to reach into my brain and pull out my least favorite colors. This Law of Friends thing is bullshit! Also, I need friends that are more familiar with the color wheel and what season my skin tone is.

However, in auraspeak (it's like unicorn whispers but with more rainbows) purples are good. It means I'm in touch with my spiritual psychic abilities - motherfucking DUH. Gypsy fortuneteller, here! Yellow indicates creative energy and bright yellow means my creativity shoots out of me like a Care Bear stare directly into the universe. Well, just take a look around this corner of the Interwebz and I guess we have our proof.

I was stoked after learning this info but still pretty fucking disappointed in the actual colors themselves. Why couldn't my aura consist of colors I like and look good in? Like deep teals and emeralds and plums and oh shit I do look good in purples. Still... Not my favorites.

So I've been sitting on this color combo of my soul spirit for several months trying to forget it. *shakes fist at aura* But no matter how hard I try it keeps popping up in random places - interiors I like, the graphics on wine boxes, etc. And then this:

Thought it was time to give ye olde avatar a mini makeover and after playing around with colors, this was my favorite background. Well poop. I guess my friend Slade gets back-scratches for life.

Seems like the goldenplumrod color combo subconsciously worked it's way into the sauce. OR WAS IT THE OTHER WAY AROUND????!! I don't understand psychic unicorn magic but apparently I channel it when I draw.

I guess I also subconsciously channel this:

Because of course if I'm going to subconsciously channel a hairstyle it would be from a slutty gossip that makes really good ambrosia.

Goldenplumrod is going to dominate your twitter stream for 2012, y'all. Get used to it.

But if you don't like it I could scratch your back...

Ladies (and wolves) get in free before 11 to the Backyard Tent of Lady Chi Magic.

2012-02-05T19:50:00.000-05:00

Edward Steichen here

I don't know what it is but I've been feeling the ladies lately. Not in a lesbian way (although I think my girl crush on Jessie J is about more than her glossy hair...) just in a normal 'Heeeey, girlfrin!" kinda way. I'm just super jazzed about sisterly love and the combined power of multiple uteri.

Maybe it's the large amount of Feminist blogs taking over my reader...

Or maybe my twitter stalking of Your Aunt Diane has reached a dangerous level...

Devika Rani here

So when I found the tumblr Sisterwolf I spent the weekend squeeing over lady goodness. It's an entire blog of images of ladies. That's it. And it's the fucking shit.

There are times when you run across a blog or tumblr and want to eat it it's just s'damn good. So good you wish that it was yours but because it isn't you want to consume all of it at once and then spend forever reblogging it and telling other people about it. Other LADIES about it because of the whole uteran power thingy.

I think Sisterwolf is a lot like Sister Wives but with a lot more teeth and nails.

And jewelry...

here

And snakes. You fucking wear those fishnets, mama!

Katja Faith here

And some ladies that appreciate the power of good lipstick.

dancers, circa 1928 here

And lots and lots of vintage belly dancers and Southeast Asian ladies dressed up in finery. And Bollywood stars. See? This tumblr is what my soul looks like if I could escape the trap of the Gap Outlet.

Maximo Ramos here

My soul in a kerchief... Just kidding, I don't wear headscarves. Well, accept for the Sundays that I don't shower. NOT THAT I DID THAT TODAY OR ANY OTHER DAY FOR THAT MATTER... that's gross. *shifty eyes*

here

Sisterwolf makes me want to spend the weekend rereading Women Who Run With the Wolves in a tent in my backyard while wearing my full face and every piece of jewelry I own with Sarah McLachlan in the background while I snack on chicken tika masala and light candles to celebrate my lady chi. It would probably be beneficial to do cat stretches and pelvic thrusts to spread lady chi around the gayhorhood as much as possible. You're invited. Bring more naan.

Sophia Loren here

There is nothing - I repeat NOTHING - that winged eyeliner can't make better. Think of the worst thing that could happen to you like... I don't know... your grandmother gets mauled by a rabid bear or you open a bag of Sour Patch Kids and they're kinda old and hard. Winged eyeliner would make you not even give a shit because you're too busy practicing your sexy faces in the mirror. It's the kryptonite to depression according to my lady chi doctor. Costume jewelry (and intense pelvic thrusting) helps.

Gustave Flasschoen here

Belly dance trading cards? If so, I think my collection of Garbage Pail Kids just found a new home in the back of the closet next to my box of Jody Watley cassettes and that pair of jeans I only look good on the third new moon of a leap year when I haven't eaten salt in 5 days or more.

Marquis Montes here

Circus, 1955 here

This blog of amazing awesomeness also has lots and lots of circus folk and carnies. Awww... I have a soft spot for freaks in sequins.

here

Como se dice 'vintage badass girdles' en Espanol?

Caspian Sea, 1963 - Pre-Revolutionary Iran here

This picture makes my decade. I'd never thought I'd like a romper as much as I like this but maybe it looks better in pre-revolutionary Iran rather than the Urban Outfitters catalog.

Kimiko Yoshida - The Black Akha Bride here

Phyllis Galembo, Cuba here

Vladamir Clavijo, Telepneva here

Erte, drawing of horseshoe costume for George White's Scandals here

By 'horseshoe" they mean "vagina."

Julianne Johnston here

Karlie Kloss for Jean Paul Gaultier Spring 2012 here

Why don't they have wigs like this at the Halloween pop-up store in Chattanooga?

from the circus 1870-1950, TASCHEN here

Yay for superstrong ladies! My uterus pulses in shared awesomeness to the rhythm of a Sarah McLachlan song.

Dangerously Dolly here

Per Zennstrom here

I gotta quit shopping at Target because my connection with my fellow sisterwolves is suffering because I dress like a lame punk. I went to see the Jason Wu line today and it was boring as fuck. No wonder I dress like a punk.

Elizaveta Porodina here

But there's always glitter baths to really perk up my cardigans!

predator rings here

Or these.

It should be the uniform of Sisterwolves everywhere!!

And will get you 1/2 off of your cover into the Backyard Tent of Lady Chi Magic.

This makes me exceedingly happy. And slightly terrified...

2012-02-02T21:28:00.000-05:00

These creep me the fuck out.

In an exceedingly good way.

Hey, sessy lady!

Hey, sessy um... goblin wizard?

Definitely a nun. Or maybe a human/possum hybrid with a hat...

I'm thinking too literal - maybe this is the visual representation of that itch you get on the palm of your hand. When you're sad. Because of the uh... sadness.

I'm not good with critiquing art anymore. College was a long time ago...

Gert & Uye Tobias via Lost Painters and The Breeder
originally found on Elena Cainas's supergood Pinterest

But goblin wizard nuns last forever.

In your NIGHTMARES!

The limited edition Capezio Glock would be at the top of my Amazon wish list.

2012-02-01T22:20:00.000-05:00

I've been thinking about color a lot lately because I've also been spending a large amount of time on Mint and realized how poor I am. Looking at interiors make me want to shop for the Ranch and Mint has shown me the agonizing truth that maybe I should skip the junk store for ONE WEEKEND.

Mint is a dick.

A very helpful and wonderful service that I would recommend to everyone but a total dick.

But talking about color is FREE and doesn't make me want to shop. Well...

I don't know where this came from...

I don't wear orange shorts under any circumstances so we'll just use this as a reference if you want to buy this. Tangerine tango was sooo last week but I must admit that I've somehow developed this strange fascination with pale pink. Not just any pale pink - like a ballet pink. Kinda yellowy. Like if you put on ballet shoes and then ran a marathon though garbage and then peed on them that's the color I'm thinking of.

Pinterest doesn't have a lot of that exact shade but in my brain it's pretty good.

David Mramor

But I have been seeing a lot of this pink and blue together lately. [MS sidebar: Many people feel that a pale blue/seafoam minty color (unrelated to the Mint mentioned above) should have been Pantone's color of the year. Fly wrote a fantastic piece about it. I don't disagree.]

However this combo above kinda makes me vomit but because it's so ugly I'm weirdly drawn to it. I even had the same feeling last May. At least I'm consistent.

But back to pank.

somewhere here

When I saw this the first thing my brain said was "Oh it's PRECIOUS!" and then I rushed myself to the doctor because I was afraid I'd been bodysnatched. But seriously, very cute things should be put in that. Cute things like lip gloss and emergency chocolates and babies' feet. (I carry them around for good luck.)

via Comablack

here

That's not really the right pink I want but I want to live in the Flamingo Trailer Park and just wanted you to know and then you could come visit.

J. Crew KIDS skirt. Yeah, it's for kids.

I know, right!? Fucking dusty mauve. Peach. Blush. Or Bashful depending on how recent your last viewing of Steel Magnolias was... Whatever hesitancy I might be feeling towards the pankness was eliminated with the addition of shiny gold glittery things. Again, I'm consistent.

In fact, I went so insane for it that I gave myself a matching manicure.

It's pinkier in person but the iphone is only so good, y'all.

I'm off the deep end! OVARY OVERLOAD! My original intention was grey and gold but grey made my angel hands look like the hands of a corpse and so I opted for a peachy pink so I could walk amongst the living. This is OPI's Let's Plie and Orly's Instant Artist 24K Glitter. I will admit - there was squeeing.

The picture really doesn't do it justice - see how other people take it to the next level. It's almost as if your body is filled with so much glitter it's leaking out of your fingertips! OR you touched something glittery and are being infected with the disease of its glittery-ness. I don't know, you need to work on your own back story.

But once I saw the pink and gold I went a little crazy for the girl shit.

via designsgirl

I almost wrapped some presents like that for Christmas... Shut up, you know that's pretty and you'd like a present wrapped like that! DON'T JUDGE ME!!!!!!

Every time I talk about uber femenine stuff I act all surprised like I just now noticed my Hello Kitty diary and weekends watching OWN. (Note to self: don't forget to journal tonight!)

I should really just acknowledge that sometimes I can actually play the part of a girl pretty good and just let my vagina do the talking on occasion. By talking I mean squeeing of course.

via wind + whale

But enough's enough. It's time to shut that bitch up because a girl can only wear so many sequins before serious chaffing happens. My years of dance recitals taught me that. They also taught me how to wear enough stage makeup to shame a Toddler with a Tiara and how to glue your toenails back on to your toe 1 minute before your next routine. Crafty.

I'm having some ballet flashbacks now...

via Yimmy Yayo

Yeah, I feel like I need a little more edge to pink.

A little Black Swan to my Dirty Dancing.

I would love to go to a pink shooting range! via Dead Girls

A little Lethal Weapon to my Princess Diaries. (AM I getting too old for this shit?)

'B' is for Bicycle by Peter Drew

A little graffiti to my pictures of kittens hanging in there.

Ashli Mizell

A little I don't know what metaphor this could be but this room makes me ravenous.

Jean Cristophe-Aumas via Poppytalk

And then there's this piece of awesomeness that looks new every time I look at it even three years later.

But what does all this dark and dirty edge mean for my perfectly pink and gold manicure???!??!?!?

Whadya gonna do?

Well, someone (I'm thinking a cat was involved) misplaced my gardening gloves so I had to just dive in.

The glitter strengthened my nails (glitter nail polish is fortified with essential vitamins and minerals made from unicorn toenails) so I didn't break a nail. I just went back inside and painted my nails all over again.

Because that's how much I like ballet pink and gold.

AND because unicorn toenail vitamins make my hair shiny and my vocabulary extra fucking saucy.

Doorway to Heaven. (Probably because there are Turkish delights inside...)

2012-01-29T20:14:00.001-05:00

I may joke sometimes about wasting my degree in interiors but I thank jeebus every day that I didn't continue on that career path. Bless those who do but it was not for me. My brief experiment into Interiors included days upon days researching the button mechanism for handicap accessible doors (a noble yet intensely boring quest) and drawing HVAC plans. Poorly drawing HVAC plans. Not for any lack of skill on my part but my job was to follow the project manager's orders not question the fundamental principals of office design. Had they asked though...

It was surprising to me how little thought (if any at all) was put into the physical comfort of the end user. I sat there adrift in a sea of cubicles shivering in my sweater during a July in Atlanta drawing spaces that were exact replicas of my own personal hell. Have I told you this story before? Pretend it's new, I'm feeling nostalgic.

I was so miserable during my ID job I quit eating. I QUIT EATING! Normally under stress I binge eat like a normal person does to avoid dealing with emotional hurdles but I was way beyond the comfort of mashed potatoes at that point. A woman on the verge!

When I realized I had quit eating I figured maybe I should do something else because I fucking love mashed potatoes, y'all. I still liked designing but I was in the wrong part of it. Fast forward through some soul-searching and a bit of luck and I have a job I enjoy and this is where the thanking jeebus part comes in.

When I think about my possible alternate life where I'd be slaving away on AutoBAD all day I don't miss it one bit. Currently I get paid to spend hours on Pinterest, shop catalogs and doodle. I didn't know how to articulate "I want a job that involves grown-up coloring books" when talking to my college admissions.

But every now and then I see something and for a split second I think 'Damn, 20-yr-old Madame! Were mashed potatoes really that important?? Couldn't you have just stuck it out a little longer to move beyond HVAC plans so we could have maybe had the chance to design cool things like this?"

via Apartment Therapy

'This' being this doorway that is from somewhere in Architectural Digest if anyone is familiar with where exactly it came from and cares to enlighten me I would appreciate it. I kinda want to see where this door leads... (Narnia??!!!)

It's really nothing special except for its UTTER PERFECTION! I love everything about it. I love the patio/sidewalk and the low blue steps and the round little shrubby things and every damnedable thing about the door surround and even the fact that the door doesn't appear to have a peephole. It doesn't even matter to me since the door should be left open at all time just like this. Come on in, friends and criminals! We have Turkish delights in here!

I'm not saying I could have actually designed anything like this if I'd stayed in ID most likely because I would have shoved my head through my computer screen one night while working late. They would have found me dead and frozen at my desk the next day.

Of course, I found this image on Pinterest during my current job so let your brain wrap around that mobius strip of alternate possibilities.

See, Pinterest is more than just pretty pictures (of Ryan Gosling), it's about questioning your life choices! And then reaffirming those choices with healthy amounts of mashed potatoes eaten at my desk during lunch.

A desk that has a small heater under it.

I'm tagging this "Pretty places I wouldn't put dumpster flowers in"

2012-01-26T22:40:00.000-05:00

I don't know what it was - maybe my uterus was in retrograde or something - but Interiors and Design just weren't doing it for me this winter. I was feeling all sad face about my overflowing reader and blogs went unread - UNREAD - for weeks on end.

I just couldn't look at another picture of someone's living room without *eyerolling* and was infinitely bored of lamps and artfully stacked books. Online mags? Yawn. I was afraid I'd developed some kind of epilepsy where every time I saw another room with an industrial pendant light I'd have a seizure and fall asleep. It's like Elle Decor-induced epileptic narcolepsy. I'm a doctor of medical sauce. Dr. Sauce!

But the tides have turned (Zing! Uterus joke!) and I'm feeling all romantical about looking at pretty pictures again! So go ahead - throw in another Eames chair and salvaged light fixture on my dashboard. I need a decoratin' fix!

photography by Naomi Finlay via Desire to Inspire

Hello dirty fireplace bricks, I really really like you. I also like the deep blue and orangey red color combo - it's like they're talking to each other. Dirty talk of course. I don't even care that the person sitting in the Eames chair will feel like the loser friend of the group because of the awkward furniture arrangement but since I love interiors again I'm not even going to make some snarky comment about it.

photography by Joseph De Leo via Desire to Inspire

Sweet merman balls of Titan! I do love some winter white. A tulip table will never give me epileptic narcolepsy - only orgasmisplosions of awesomeness in my soul. But it's taking everything I've got to not talk about why there's a giant chrome alien dildo on the table... I've already maxed out my sex toy jokes for this year so y'all will have to insert your own here. (I can't stop.)

Kelly Behun via Desire to Inspire

This is kinda grey for winter white but it sure is purdy. But I think you could only eat white foods in here which is the opposite of what Oprah told me to eat. Now I'm all confused! Yet again my design lust has overpowered my need for normalizing blood sugar levels. Sorry, pancreas. It's better this way.

via Studio Annetta

I think I'm going to put some flowers in my bedroom this weekend because YAY! If I buy flowers for the Ranch I always end up buying the shitty flowers that are half dead because I feel sorry for them because no one else buys them and it breaks my tender heart for flowers to get their feelings hurt so *I* save them from their imminent dumpster death! But then have ugly dead flowers within 24 hours. Maybe I should aim for some nice flowers because I like myself marginally better than wilting daisies and dried baby's breath. Marginally.

If Earthfare could have that dresser next to the flowers that would be good too. I'm still using my dresser from when I was a kid. This is a horrible horrible fact. It still has the tiny Barbie sticker I hid in the corner. I wish the return of the '80s would hurry up so I could look cool rather than so gawddamned lame...

here but source?

*looks at brand new renovated kitchen*

*looks at this kitchen*

*looks at brand new renovated kitchen - images pretty flowers on the counter*

*looks at this kitchen*

*single tear rolls down cheek..*

*dry humps computer screen*

via Small Shop Studio

The only thing this rooms needs is a giant alien sex toy on that table. I would eat off of that floor. I think I could EAT that floor.

I feel so inspired now that my love for looking at other peoples' houses for hours on end with no hope of ever attaining living there has been rekindled. Sigh... Oh blogging. Thanks for filling my head with nonsense and the promise of dreams that will never come true. You're the bestest.

I can't wait to rearrange all my thrift store junk and hand-me-downs this weekend! I'll top off my artfully arranged books on my 80s dresser with the 2nd ugliest bouquet of flowers I found at the store.

Because that's how much I marginally care.

Tangerine can Tango with my fist!

2012-01-23T20:44:00.318-05:00

Pour yourself a Satsuma cocktail and dry hump a ginger because we are gonna talk about O-raaahhnnnnge!

I'm always super late to the game with these Pantone posts but I like to see what everyone else says first. And then *eye-motherfuckin-roll* into the new year and then get busy gabbing!

But it's extra late this year because I'm supremely bored with Pantone lately and have been avoiding this post like Lady Mary avoids cousin peen. #DowntonAbbeyReference

As I'm sure you've heard the color of the year for 2012 is Tangerine Tango.

Yay. Limp streamers. Mylar balloons. Bad cake. I hate it when a bad thing happens to a decent color.

I don't have a funny name for it because I don't even hate Pantone enough this year to give it 110%. I'm basically indifferent now. And Gandhi totally said the opposite of love isn't hate, but indifference. Or was it MLK? Ricki Lake? Aw fuck it. I love over-analyzing color but leave it up to Pantone to completely strip all the joy out of that for me with this Color of the Year bullshit. Thanks a lot, assholes.

Back in October I made some "predictions" about what I thought Pantone's choice might be - I leaned more toward deep blue and mustardy neutrals but I did include a a bit of orangey rust because I'm a gypsy fortuneteller.

I would dry hump this (maybe it already has been?). I love it. via Busy Being Fabulous. AGAIN.

Granted, I didn't actually predict this color but that's kinda close right?! Right. I should start giving psychic readings. As long as it's about color and people are fine with 30% accuracy. And I can spend a lot of time on Pinterest doing it...

I'd personally prefer a darker and redder orange but hey, I'm just a hillbilly (gypsy fortuneteller) so everyone should probably ignore me.

Fake Blood by Federica Erra

I'm also feeling some peaches and corals lately too...? Must be because we're all gearing up for Spring as indicated by the 65 degree January days and bathing suits already out in stores that make me want to barf.

Martha Stewart

Y'all, remind me to shave my legs by March.

But I'm down with Tangerine Tango as a color even though I usually try to avoid orange because in Tennessee it is more indicative of your college football preference than a design choice.

Mert Alas & Marcus Piggott for Pop F/W 2002 via The Form of Beauty

I'm down with some Fifth Element hair.

But I can't just give Pantone a pass this year because that's no fun. So grab your panties y'all - here comes my obligatory rant!

Heeey... Tangerine Tango looks a lot like Tiger Lily.... here

Tangerine Tango follows a list of super jazzy shades of the past few years. Shades that I'm only marginally okay with. Nothing says living in 'The Great Recession' like cabana colors of yellow, tur-qwaz, pank and bright orange!!!!!!!

Per Pantone's press release this year:

The 2011 color of the year, PANTONE 18-2120 Honeysuckle, encouraged us to face everyday troubles with verve and vigor. Tangerine Tango, a spirited reddish orange, continues to provide the energy boost we need to recharge and move forward.

Oy. You've been telling us to "recharge and move forward" with "verve and vigor" for the last four years and I don't think it's working. My friends are still unemployed, I spent the afternoon at Goodwill and my Pantone-colored dildo collection STILL can't find financial backing! Fuck your energy boost! It's condescending and elitist. (But if you're really looking for an energy boost might I suggest the vibrating cock ring in Color-of-the-Year 2008 Blue Iris? Oh wait, you can't get that because this is a recession and I CAN'T GET MY BUSINESS OFF THE GROUND!!)

McQueen Spring 2012 via Vogue

If you're looking for the "radiant shadings of a sunset, Tangerine Tango marries the vivaciousness and adrenaline rush of red with the friendliness and warmth of yellow, to form a high-visibility, magnetic hue that emanates heat and energy.” That you can buy as their Tangerine Tango journal to advertise you're a raging douchebag. Or coffee mug. It also makes a great addition to their holiday ornament collection. Or folding chair. Or probably KitchenAid mixer licensing deal orgasmisplosion. Or double-ended monster butt plug where each end is shaped like the head of one of the Eames? Eh? EH?!!?!! *eyebrow wiggle* Are you a Charles or a Ray?

via The Ray & The Ro

Pantone's rainbow paragraphs of optimism and sunshine don't really reflect how people are spending their money. (Well, maybe the luxury market... I don't know, I've been at Goodwill.) It reflects how Pantone feels optimistic about their own expanding brand because they want you to spend your money on them. And stay in their hotel.

According to my top secret sources at Heimtex this year, orange and copper were definitely there as accent colors. However there were large quantities of dark blues and greys. Well then... And grey seems to be the color of the decade but that would make the most boring Fleshlight color ever. Grey doesn't fly of the shelves and onto your dick like Honeysuckit Pank does.*

If only there was some kind of gypsy fortuneteller - perhaps with a lovable hillbilly charm and a smile that would make New Gingrich divorce another wife - that could have foretold such a thing!!!! CURSES!

Tangerine can also Tango with pank! Honor Pre-Fall 2012 via Uncle Beefy

Granted, Heimtex is a home decor market and I tend to be focused on that one industry. I guess that's where the Tangerine Tango Christmas ornament comes in. I'm seeing a lot more "radiant shadings of a sunset" in fashion right now. So it's no surprise to learn that Pantone is moving into the makeup business by teaming up with Sephora this Spring! *gasp* Yes, of course this year's color had to be super marketable and wearable because they want it all over your face. (Full disclosure: If it smelled like Satsumas and had glitter I'd totally buy it.)

Alexander Straulino photography via Trendland

Seriously, this post is starting to look a lot like last year's post with all the pink and orange (hellooooo - Jil Sander did pink and orange waayy last year, ya'll). But I actually do enjoy those colors together... Not enough to make out with it but I would definitely flirt with it like a total slut.

Philipp Schaerer

Julia Kostreva via Design*Sponge

This is the kind of journal I would carry. Not one with Pantone splattered all over the front. That one smells of dark-rimmed glasses and cheap desperation.

Emily Lander

Even Mother Nature dances the Tango on occasion.

Scarlet-rumped Trogon via Featured Creature

NASA is so on trend:

Morganza Floodway

Granted, they invented Tang so I bet they are biased toward orange.

Confession: even though it usually does end up in college football territory, I have a weakness for blue and orange together. I can't help it.

via ffffound

It's like American Beauty but in a complementary color combo that makes me happy. Not cry like a little bitch at plastic bags blowing in the breeze.

And I will admit that even though I'm not a huge fan of purple, I'm really enjoying the weird relationship it has with orange right now. It probably started with the whole Hermezz box and lavender event of 2010 - remember?:

via The Selby

When is lavender going to be the color of the year? Seriously, this shit is everwherr.

Stunning mineral photography from Warren Krupshaw via DesignCrush

Mother Nature approves of this Tango as well.

Tom Ford Nails

So does Tom Ford.

Lots more fun lavender and orange via Chapman Interiors

So obviously there are lots of good things about orange and I won't burden it with my seething indifference. It's done nothing to me (accept look bad with my skin tone). But I'm over the Pantone evil genius marketing monopoly on color. Until they approve my licensing deal!!!

And if 2013's color of the year is anything other than emerald green, grey, golden champagne, lavender or the color of my eyes in the morning, I will shove the Charles end of the double-ended butt plug so far up Pantone's ass they will burp molded plywood until 2014.

*Have I fulfilled my January non-resolution resolution??! It's close enough, right?

MS Note: If you get these posts emailed to you, you may have receive a half-completed shitty post last night - sorry. I accidentally hit publish and then had a mini panic attack and peed my pants. Please disregard and pretend you never read it. It's the nice thing to do.

Here's one more awesome thing that Netflix won't have...

2012-01-19T20:10:00.000-05:00

I'm feeling blah on blogging this week. I'm sure it has nothing to do with Hoarders and Top Chef and lasagna and keeping tabs on some pretty important ebay auctions and lasagna and writing the screenplay for the Dolly Parton and Paula Deen movie I'd like to have made.

It would be like Steel Magnolias meets Thelma and Louise but with a lot more ham.

I've also been exhausted because my face is growing the world's largest and most terrifying zit. This requires much energy and dedication apparently.

So when I wasn't busy with all those pivotal things or collecting every orange picture ever pinned on Pinterest for my Pantone post next week, I was able to find this fantastic trailer for the new movie Advanced Style based on the saucy blog of the same name.

These are real Madames at their finest! Fabulosity times infinity.

So if you'll excuse me, I need to go put on every piece of jewelry I own and then eat more lasagna.

Next week: Tangerine Titjob!!!

No good? Ok I'm still working on it...

I think it's time to beat this one-trick pony to death.

2012-01-15T22:39:00.001-05:00

There are a few things I'm excited to leave behind in 2011 - many of them are leggings-as-pants jokes and moves that in any way resemble Mick Jagger. But there is one thing that I hope we can collectively agree to limit this year. NOT WINE!! Don't worry. Nothing as drastic as that.

But seriously...

I just fell asleep and it had nothing to do with the bed.

I would absolutely fight a Care Bear to the death in the Mad Max Thunderdome to own an actual Mouille lighting fixture but y'all... It's in eh-vuh-ry room I see on the internet and just because a room has it doesn't automatically elevate it to the status of panty-creaming awesomeness. The lamp by itself, for sure.

The space where the couch doesn't meet the wall makes me ill.

These rooms are from a hotel suite designed by fashion designer Azzedine Alaia. It's in Paris because of course it is. From the Yatzer article:

"The fashion designer’s aim was to achieve a true feeling of a home away from home. It is important to have the luxury of a hotel but at the same time to open the door and feel that you are somewhere familiar and close to you."

Nothing makes me feel more at home and comfortable than if I've walked into a sterile space filled with pieces fit for a decorative arts museum! It's mostly because I confuse personality with expensive shopping and as a result am completely sterile on the inside!!!!!

I'm fine if some people like these rooms - they're not for me but all of us are beautiful butterflies of blah blah blah we all have different tastes.

However, putting something well-crafted into a space does not automatically make the space well-crafted. It makes it well-curated. And I guess if you're of the fashion and design elite that is Azzedine's clientele the difference might not matter but it matters to this hillbilly who is drinking a white chocolate martini out of a mason jar because the real glasses were too far away. (That was some poor space planning when I did the kitchen...) But I'm watching Downton Abbey so I DO feel fancy enough to comment about other people's interiors.

So can we all agree to not pathologically lose our bloggy shit when we see a space that's only redeeming quality appears to be access to money and an afternoon spent on 1st Dibs? There ARE other light fixtures out there and I challenge real designers to find them!

Magazine editors, we're not that stupid! You can change things up every now and again and we will like it. I swear. Well, those other bloggers might...

I make no guarantees about what happens inside the Ranch. Especially after an extra large mason jar full of booze...

You thought I was kidding, didn't you?

Next year you're all getting gift cards to Big Lots.

2012-01-11T23:10:00.000-05:00

In case you don't live in the South (bless your heart), you might not know that Southern Living magazine is required reading. It's full of recipes with lots of mayonnaise and regional stories best read with a drawl. It's best to keep it next to your bible in case of spiritual or potluck dinner emergencies. When my copy comes in the mail it's a real event on par with tapping a new box of wine.

Last month's holiday issue inspired me to make something (that didn't involve mayonnaise) to give as Christmas gifts. They had a recipe for Satsuma-cello which is lke Limoncello but saucier!

Mine is going to look EXACTLY like that!

It seemed relatively easy and I thought my cocktail-loving friends who do not need any more tchotchkes would enjoy it. I'm feeling all crafty lately and they will be the unwitting recipients of my popsicle stick/pipe cleaner love. It's like vacation bible school but 21 and over.

Let's get this party started before Santa Jesus gets here! (This is what I said last month. I couldn't very well post this before the arrival of Santa Jesus since I made it for people who read this blog.)

Step 1A: Get your supplies. If you're really serious about making booze you have to put it in something. My friends are No Expectations friends but I think they would probably draw the line at mixing a cocktail out of my reused milk cartons.

These little guys are only 3.95 at Crate and Barrel and feel free to buy a few extras to style your fridge with once you've poured out your milk so you can reuse the cartons to give as gifts.

Step 1B: Buy a lot of vodka. If you're like me, the guy at the liquor store will say 'Just another Friday, huh?'

Step 1C: Buy a case of satsumas - the delicious little mandarin orange-like citrus bombs of deliciousness that are only available in the expensive grocery store in town. Thanks Southern Living. Apparently clementines aren't good enough for the pages of your magazine.

Step 2: Eat 4-5 satsumas to test quality. Feel free to do the same for the vodka.

Step 3: Now you have to separate the peel from the fruit meat. They say to use a vegetable peeler but my vegetable peeler might as well have been a dull spoon with how it tickled the satsuma peel. I don't know what the hell kind of peelers that Southern Living uses but I'm guessing it involves child labor and samurai swords. Zesting might not produce as much satsuma essence that I would like and I want off-the-charts, over-the-rainbow, ass-slapping satsuma essence.

I'm going in with a knife because after testing the vodka it seemed like a really good idea.

Those giant oil glands are kinda vulgar...

After four minutes and half of a satsuma I wanted to die. These pieces are less than a centimeter in size because satsumas are tiny precious round things that don't like to give up their skins. They hate being naked. You can't peel these assholes like an apple and no amount of wishing or bargaining with the debil would make this easy. SANTA JESUS WHERE ARE YOU WHEN I NEED YOU???!!

1 satsuma is manageable, 20 is suicidal. I'd rather spend my eternity in hell giving cranky cats pills. I hope my friends can taste how much I love them because they are never getting this again.

You can see where I mutilated the ones in the back although it was definitely more their fault than mine. I put the pretty ones up front to bolster my self esteem because that is some fucking awesome knife work. SHUT UP LET ME HAVE THIS!!

Satsuma juice is rather potent so after 1 hour, 20 satsumas and 2 near-finger-decapitating slips with the knife your fingernails will stained yellow like you violated an Oompa Loompa.

Deeper.

BUT you're left with this:

ESSENCE! Like running your fingers through tiny orange coins. (But not the finger that is bleeding because I almost decapitated it. No worries, friends who received this as a gift.)

After I cried tears of relief to be done, I poured vodka over all my hard work, another shot down my throat and let it sit for 10 days while I went to cancel my Southern Living subscription.

I'm kidding, Southern Living. I shouldn't even joke about something like that.

Of course, now I have 20 naked satsumas that I have to eat in a hurry. They are like little orange wedges that rode a rainbow from heaven into your mouth so it's really not a problem. Well, the first 10 are. After that I need to do something different. So I made satsuma chicken stir fry, satsuma salsa and a satsuma dump cake. You know, those cakes from the 80s (Southern Living probably invented it) where you dump some fruit in a pan and sprinkle dry cake mix on top and pour butter over it? I make one about every 10 years - it tastes like yellow and my childhood. It was good for breakfast.

Step 4: After 7-10 days and an embarrassing amount of breakfast cake later, your juice has been juicified. Strain your previous handiwork.

Victory!

These peels are now like candy! I know because I ate a few pieces like candy. I chopped them up and have been using them as zest in everything. Bet you didn't think of THAT Southern Living?! *eyebrow wiggle*

It's dark because of all the extra essence in there... I hope.

Step Whatever This Is: In an effort to use every large pot, pan and container in your house, add in gallons of simple syrup for your orange "juice." Let sit for another 24 hours while you attend to more glittery needs.

Step You're Not Even Going To Make This So Why Bother: Let's make some labels for your fine liqueur! Or not. I apparently forgot everything I once knew in ID school about ~~interior design~~ glues and vellum and X-acto knives and could not actually make a label adhere to the surface of the bottle in a manner that didn't look like a homeless man pissed in a bottle and stuck a dirty piece of newspaper on the front with his spit.

So I opted for just tie-on tags made of vellum. AND GLITTER!!! It was easier and didn't remind me of my wasted degree.

It was by far the most exciting part that didn't involve a dull knife. On the GLITTERY tags I wrote Southern Living's recipes for Satsuma cocktails.

If a craft blogger made this they would have hired a calligrapher and spritzed each tag with homemade satsuma-scented Febreze but all I had was a sharpie and good intentions.

And a limp bow.

Remember, we excel at mediocrity around here. But after 10+ days of HARD GLITTERY WORK (doing mostly nothing) I just wanted to stop. DIY is supposed to be a cheaper and easier alternative to actually buying real gifts for people but dammit I think Pinterest lied to me about this!!!

I was drunk on the possibility of handicrafts much like I was drunk after a few cocktails made with satsuma liqueur. This recipe makes enough for two gift bottles and a generous bottle for yourself (ok 3 if you use a big bow to cover the empty space up top). And this stuff is so delicious I soon forgot about the neck cramps from my night of peeling.

I also got to eat all the satsumas and am still using the zest... Looking back I actually see that I came out ahead with this. But let's not say that real loud so my friends can still think I almost killed myself because of my deep undying love for them.

(And liqueur.)

(And Southern Living.)

(But mostly the promise of homemade booze...)

Thank you Santa Jesus!

This makes me exceedingly happy.

2012-01-08T20:36:00.000-05:00

I had super important plans this weekend (to make polka dot art) but all that got pushed aside when I finally sat down to watch the first season of Downton Abbey (it's on Netflix) in anticipation of the beginning of the second season on Sunday night. I was being harassed with cattle prods and uptight British-sounding barbs about my virtue if I didn't watch it already. Even My Favorite and My Best is in on the action and made some moodboards for your delight.

And I did. And it was goooood. It's better than gooood but I feel if I call it 'saucy' that's too indelicate a descriptive term and might cause someone to faint.

Instead I'll just say it's fucking awesome.

My only complaint is that I wish Maggie Smith would do more magic but I guess it can't be perfect. Sigh...

I like my geometric shapes like I like women: curvy and in multiples.

2012-01-05T22:19:00.000-05:00

I know the geometric shape de regueur is ye olde tres-sided triangle of pointy fabulosity but I like to buck tradition. I'm into dots now. Behold some cute shit:

via Fox on the Run

I know. I'm a rule-breaker. I also wear sunglasses at night and spread the jelly on my bread before I spread the almond butter. (I'm kidding, I put the almond butter on first. I'm a rule-breaker not fucking insane.)

Luli Sanchez

But seriously I'm kinda obsessed with dots lately. Like doodles gone wild and I love when things go wild. From the safety of my couch of course.

Lincolnshire Firewood Company

It's amazing what you come across on Pinterest. This is from a site that actually sells firewood. In England. The places that sell firewood here do so on the side of the road out of the back of their truck. Or you could go someplace fancy like Home Depot. One day when I win the lottery I'll put in gas logs but until then: wood dots.

via Riazzoli

I couldn't actually have a dot bedspread because it might feel like I was sleeping under Tracy Turnblad's roach dress but I like it because it fits in with this blog post exceptionally well.

via mille

Just like this nebula of awesomeness.

via ready set internet's photostream

These Bernard Voita pictures keep me occupied for hours. The others are pretty badass as well but contain no dots so they are dead to me right now.

Lady Ann de Borja via Mint

Well now... I have some old paper bags and a sharpie that might be involved in some crafting this weekend. Y'all come over and bring wine.

Without realizing it, I seem to have been collecting dots over several months I also didn't know they were all in neutral colors until I was pulling them together tonight so let's interject it with some color for a moment:

via Breath My Stardust

AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!

via Simply Pi

Oh that's better. Let's not get too crazy. We're not colored polka dots/jelly-THEN-almond butter kind of people.

Atelier Xavier Veilhan via Seesaw

I still can't get enough of this mobile. I bet we can attempt one during the craft party this weekend. SOMEBODY BRING FISHING LINE!

Dodoplan via Design*Sponge

via ffffound

Or maybe some straws so we can craft some giant chemical bonds. Molecular curvology is the kind of polka dot science I can get behind. And by 'get behind' I mean the only science I really care to understand: the fake kind.

Aspen Mays

via yimmy yayo

Wheeee!

via Ville Javat

Fuck it. Let's just paint the Ranch with polka dots!

We'll need a few more bottles of wine. I hope you pass a fishing line/booze palace because I'm super busy going wild on my couch with a sharpie and some paper bags.

This is what it sounds like when doves predict the future.

2012-01-02T23:45:00.002-05:00

Ahhh.... 2012. This is how I feel about you:

20 tweezy Fabulosity

I'm super stoked about this year and have been accidentally writing 2012 for the last three months. Sorry, check recipients.

However, 2011 proved to be a good year for me - I got a new kitchen, didn't get pepper-sprayed in the face and the worst thing that happened to me was a bit of urinary grief. So thank you to all my supportive readers, Cupboards and Brizo for helping with my kitchen, GE for some Kentucky adventures and the architects of the Charlotte airports that made bathrooms so close to the gates.

I expect lots of amazing things to happen this year if I continue on my current trajectory of fabulosity. I don't make resolutions but I thoroughly enjoy that warm and fuzzy feeling you get from new beginnings like when you start a new book or buy new underwear. I must admit I've got a pretty warm and fuzzy feeling about the upcoming year and it isn't related to Charlemagne sitting on my newly-underweared lap.

Here are some awesome events I expect to happen this year:

January

I'll write a post about Tangerine Tango - Pantone's new color for 2012 - but it won't be as good as last year's. I'll lose a follower because of its lameness but gain a few new ones after a well-placed double entendre. Hooray for the sauce!

My instagram addiction will reach its zenith with a beautiful picture of the Tennessee landscape and then immediately crash and burn when I post a picture of my breakfast.

Someone will kick me in the throat for saying 20-tweezy.

February

I'll be super excited to add some faux fur accents to my wardrobe this season but my fashion sense being what it is, my efforts will go horribly awry and someone will mistake me for a yeti. My wounds will heal but I'll always have a limp.

I'll be exceedingly happy when my inbox overflows with potential matches after setting up an online dating profile. Confused as to why all my matches end up crying in the fetal position, I learn that I accidentally set up my profile on Christian Mingle.

March

After watching an episode of Good Eats with Alton Brown, I will be inspired to ~~grind against a pillow~~ try to incorporate parsnips into my cooking repertoire. After a few awkward moments in the produce section and some disastrous attempts in the kitchen, I'll finally have a mediocre understanding of cooking with parsnips. VICTORY!

I will also accomplish a DIY project I've been planning since Christmas. I will make it much more complicated than necessary but it turn out awesomely and be repinned on Pinterest 7 bazillion times. I will make arrangements to have that fact carved onto my gravestone.

We ain't slowin down yet...

April

I will be fucking awesome this month. When it stops raining....

While it is raining, I'll be able to design some super fantastic merchandise for the blog that you could purchase for very reasonable prices and give as gifts to lots of people who will think you're the most awesome gift giver in the world.

May

I will receive a picture of someone wearing a ModernSauce tshirt. It will be their mugshot but it won't make me any less happy.

I will write a hilarious post about monkeys and postmodern parking decks in Southern cities that will cause several readers to literally urinate on themselves.

Siri will remind me to renew my restraining orders against the few Christian Mingle matches that didn't end in tears.

June

My stalking of tile stores in anticipation of my future bathroom renovation will finally prove fruitful when I find the tile of my dreams. I will cry tears of joy. More tears will follow when I learn the price.

The warm weather and my selective memory will inspire me to plant some new things around the Ranch. My optimism knows no bounds and it will look beautiful!!

The thrift store proves to be particularly bountiful this month. My bank account does the happy dance.

July
FIREWORKS!

The new plants are dead (possibly from errant fireworks) but I don't care because I'm wrapped up in True Blood again even though it continues to get shittier and shittier.

I will have a brief and curiously intense love affair with the color combination of plum, currant and citron yellow.

My years long search for comfy yet affordable chairs for my living room will finally drive me to insanity and I will make guests sit on old tires I found on the side of the road.

August

Using large amounts of wine, I will entice my neighborhood gays to scatter large rocks and shrubs in the house to bring the outdoors in because it's so fucking hot around here I can't stand to go outdoors. Once I sweep up the dirt the Ranch will have that great Southern California feel I've always wanted.

MARGARITAS!!!!

I finally made it through a Pure Barre class without crying! My ass looks fantastic and I celebrate by bingeing on funnel cakes. Powdered sugar is gawd's delicious dandruff.

Still going saucy...

September

Being that this is my 32nd birthday month I will sparkle from the inside out! People will stop me in the streets and have me bless their babies, my milkshake will bring all the rabid cats to the yard and I'll leave a snail trail of glitternaise wherever I go. Being in your thirties is amazing!

I will buy myself the most awesomenest shoes ever created. They will make my legs look like dangerously long sex columns. But they hurt too much to wear them out of the house so no one will ever see them. My feet hurt just typing this sentence. But it's worth it. For the dangerous sex columns.

October
I will spend 5 seconds in ecstasy thinking I have won the lottery after playing the same lucky numbers for the past 7 years: my body measurements. However, I quickly realize I am one number off because yet again my bust just doesn't measure up. I should switch that measurement to the length of my dangerous sex column legs...

I secretly begin planning for Christmas decorations. So excited!! Visions of Jonathan Adler ornaments dance in my head.

November

I will find a side table for my living room so glorious I will have a decorgasm right there on the spot making the junk store clerk very uncomfortable.

The blog is really starting to get some traction and I will gain a few new readers taking my total page views to 87! Fuck yeah!

MOTHERFUCKING PIE!!!

December:

I will finally overdose on glitter this holiday season but it will be worth it despite a scary few minutes in the ER.

I will spend my Christmas in an eggnog bath reminiscing about how badassical 2012 was and doodling hearts around myself and the next year in my trapper keeper.

Come and get me, 2013.

I can't wait to make up the awesomeness that will happen during that year! I will speculate that there will be even more funnel cakes and fabulosity.

Possibly less Prince though...

Today's post was part of Let's Blog Off - where a gang of bloggers all write about a similar topic - in this case 20 tweezy. *neck block* Make sure to check out what everyone else is looking forward to in the new year. They might have better plans but I guarantee I have better gifs.

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Merry Chrimas, y'all!

2011-12-24T23:23:00.001-05:00

The ModSauce Ranch's Christmas card this year

It didn't work.

But I'm watching Santa Claus: The Movie and the reindeer eat glitter manna that makes them fly so I can see where she might have picked up this idea.

Santa Claus: The Movie might be my favorite holiday movie from the '80s because there's a hobo kid with fingerless gloves, Santa is kinda Big Poppa sessy in polka dot pirate blouses, John Lithgow plays an extra greasy evil toymaker and is an asshole who won't let Ren dance, the poppa elf at the North Pole looks like an ancient Shaolin monk and Dudley Moore is drunk the whole time.

Maybe I'm confusing this movie with some other '80s movies... It's still pretty awesome though. It's nice to switch things up because after the fifth viewing of A Christmas Story even I start to wish for someone to shoot my eyes out.

Maybe after the fifth viewing of this one I'll switch to One Magic Christmas with Mary Steenburgen and that other hobo dude. Except this hobo is an ANGEL!! I don't think there's as much glitter in that one but I just love some hobos around the holidays.

This post was my attempt to write one sentence to wish you a Merry Christmas and 12 paragraphs later we're finally getting there:

Glitter hugs and eggnog-induced dry-humps for all you saucy friends! Have a Merry Chrimas, a happy non-Chrimas holiday or just a fantastic weekend for all you super pagans out there.

I'm taking a blog vacation until the new year to refuel my tanks of sauce (read: shop and nap) but I'll still be twitter twatting so fill me in on all the swag the Big Poppa in red gave you.

See you in twenty twelve!

Update: In my drunk-on-Christmas haste, I forgot to tell you that this card was heavily inspired by a card posted by Paul Anater. I think it was the cats. And the fact I have a lot of Queen Victoria pictures... I assure you I am not that clever without stealing from someone else.

I like to go BUCK WILD for the holidays.

2011-12-22T23:52:00.000-05:00

CHRISTMAS! It's the most sauciest time of the year! Can't you just feel the sharp pang of glitter rubbing into every crevice of your body after all that gift wrapping?! Ahhh.... Sink into it. That's the feeling of love for your fellow human beings. I've heard people say that the more it hurts, the more you love.

I'm kidding. I've never heard anybody say that. I just made it up but it sounds kinda right, huh?

It is no secret I love (unapologetically and non-painfully) the holidays. It includes all my favorite things - glitter, twinkling things, boxes of secrets under plastic trees, disgustingly beautiful displays of tackiness, my grandmother's date pinwheel cookies, making people smile, more glittery things and all of it wrapped up with that sense of impending doom you just can't shake.

*twirling in delight*

I don't know why people hate Christmas so much. I just ignore the parts of the holiday that I don't enjoy like when people crush up candy canes and put them on brownies or try to talk about the real meaning of the holiday. Gross.

I've been busy not blogging lately because I've actually been enjoying the season in real life and not just living out my wrapping paper fantasies on Pinterest. Well, not too much...

I've been doing lots of super fun things like driving all over the the tri-state area to find the most perfect ribbon ever to match this one tiny sheet of wrapping paper I have, eating cake for breakfast and singing/crying to Christmas songs when I'm alone in the car driving all over the tri-state area.

I also set aside about four minutes to craft some holiday decor for the dining room.

I detect a definite lack of glitter here...

I know what you're thinking - HOW WERE YOU ABLE TO CREATE SUCH A MASTERPIECE???!!?!?! Or maybe, why...?

Well, dear inquisitive reader, these little birds I bought for about 50 cents each at World Market a few years ago and felt they needed their own place.

That place being a dead branch I made someone crawl around in a dark forest to find for me. I believe it's called upcycling, y'all.

In case you were confused on how to construct this feat of engineering.

I'm not sure if this will make a reappearance next year but sometimes I just get a wild hair and I must CREATE!

I also had to get creative because I lost the box that stored my stocking holders and Charlemagne was adamant that her stocking be put up.

So we had to improvise and use these vintage Dansk candle holders that were laying around. She said that would be ok.

I couldn't be bothered to actually decorate the rest of the mantle because I was so busy putting birds on a dead branch. Maybe I'll get around to hauling out the 30 feet of mantle garland next year... I'm not exaggerating, it's 30 feet. I should start working on it in October if I actually want it done by Christmas.

But I did manage to get some gifts wrapped! Squee!

Ribbon not styled, the table was just messy...

I'm a huge believer of twine and raffia especially for dude gifts. However, twine smells like it was soaked in gasoline prior to packaging so I might suggest letting it air out for a bit or spraying it with Axe body spray. Because it's for a dude. But I'm pretty sure the ladies like it too so you could be safe for anyone.

There were a few other glittery baubles strewn about the house but they aren't as exciting as what I stare at every night.

More singing and crying... Looks better in person.

Obviously I believe in big traditional fake trees (but not so much in proper night photography...). I also tell myself I'll do a more modern-looking tree every year but fuck it. I have no self control when it comes to the holidays and rather enjoy it that way. Leaving a shiny ornament in a dark storage box is like leaving an adorable puppy in a cage at the pound to die. You'd have to have a lump of coal where your heart is! Obviously my heart is made of rainbows and cake icing. (Sticky and sweet?)

I'll probably get a real tree one year but for now the fake ones do quite nice. Particularly because I actually put my tree up the weekend before Thanksgiving this year and that's a long ass time for a real tree to look perfect. This may make me sound like a crazy person but I assure you it left my entire Thanksgiving holiday free to eat, spend time with family and plan the bird/twig/vase thing.

I needed a lot of time and pie for that one... I'll draw you diagram if you want to attempt one for next year.

I hope y'all have a holiday that is full of as much or as little glitter as your prefer. And by glitter I mean cake for breakfast of course...

It helps to make your heart sticky and sweet for 2012.

Dear Santa,

2011-12-18T20:44:00.001-05:00

I know you are the wisest of the magi so I don't even need to tell you that I've been a very good girl this year in all the sauciest ways. So when I look underneath the tree this year I pray to the little baby jeebus in the manger wearing a gold diaper that I find a beautifully wrapped package that would make Martha Stewart shit her granny prison panties and then take that shit and bake a wonderfully delicious cake with it. Then I want to open that box and find the strength not to cut a bitch who ever wears this outfit anywhere within a 50 miles of me:

Considering this picture has been reblogged almost 9000 times on tumblr I feel like this is a gift that will no doubt prove useful to humanity as it will prevent me from being a serial killer every time I walk by an Urban Outfitters.

Although perhaps a bigger gift to humanity WOULD be for me to kill all those who dare to bring back (even ironically) the CK sweatshirt and acid-washed jeans of my youth. This headless person chose not to include Doc Martens which, if I'm being honest, is an oversight but it will make me steal her shoes once I finish stealing her life.

Really, Santa, it's up to you which path your choose but there better be some kind of solution to this problem come December 25th.

Peace be with you,

Your devoted child of glitter -

Madame Sunday/Lacy/possible serial killer

The Sunday Set. Yep, nothing but some pretty pictures here... whistles

2011-12-14T21:35:00.000-05:00

Artist?

Look at all these cool things I found on the internet this week! LOOK AT IT!

Sao Paulo via Nowness

(Pssstt.... hey laaaadies and twisluts! Let's gab a minute. I figure while everyone else is looking at pictures we can secretly talk about Breaking Dawn since everyone should have seen it by now. Possibly multiple times... I don't judge. Seriously, I don't. I watch Twilight movies for chrissake. It's all so so horrible it makes me love it. I only saw it about a week ago so the theater was nearly empty which really allowed us audience members to bond when we all laughed together at the shitty acting. Seriously, there were guffaws when Jacob imprinted. Probably because even in fantasy scenarios the wig budget for this franchise is less than the amount of money I spend on caviar facials. (That would be $0) And because of his, you know, homosensuality.)

here but...?

Delicious!!!!

fucking sexy tile from Pinterest but source?

(Ok we're back. I was actually going to do some moodboards and fake decorate some Breaking Dawn rooms being that this is a pseudo-design blog but I realized that I could only fake decorate the honeymoon room on Isle Esme and I don't really like"island" decor so that was out. Besides, it would have just been a bed and mosquito netting and a toaster oven on the nightstand because seriously - no one wants cold diamond dick no matter how much it jizzes glitter. Be a gentleman, Edward. Toast that wang like you're reheating some 100 year old pizza before you get it anywhere near Bella's awkward vag.

Hold on... I think the other people are starting to wonder.)

Hannah Whitaker via Invisible House

Omigawd is that a perfectly coordinated snake?????!!!

(Ok I think we bought some time. Even without the pizza/wang reheating, I didn't care too much about sexy sex times because nothing happens when Mormon virgins get married of course and I've already read enough disgustingly filthy fan fiction to completely create that moment much better in my head. It's a good thing I didn't decide to fake decorate a room because I don't know how to simulate a broken headboard on Olioboard... only in my brain. Because of the chains, archery equipment and steampunk goth tractor of course... Thank you fan fiction. Oddly enough, most of the people in the theater seemed to be cougars and their young dates until I realized it was more likely middle-aged moms and their sons which made the anticipatory silence about the honeymoon really really gross. I tried to break the awkwardness by rustling around in the large bag of white cheddar popcorn I snuck into the theater. It wasn't as good as the goodie bags of vodka-soaked gummi bears I made for New Moon but still finger-licking good.)

via Because I'm Addicted

via Michael Paukner. Buy it here.

Wow, this print sure inspires a LOT of discussion regarding the ancient study of the 'harmony of the spheres' - it might be a good idea to start from the beginning and discuss all of it. Now.

via Aqua Velvet

Make sure to include analysis of the Dymaxion House too.

(My readers love that shit - ok I love it too - but I like discussing vampirical C-sections more because damn. *riiip* Did they use the hair and makeup team for sound effects also? I can't wait to see what kind of fuckery happens with that little weirdo baby in the next movie. I also can't wait to see Bella turn into one of the X-men because that will be awesome. And by awesome I mean terrible because the whole thing will probably be awesomely terrible.)

Gary Hume

And that's why I love it.

Uh... Love the ART. Yes, I was totally talking about the art.

Feel free to talk about how much you also love/hate ART or even the Dymaxion harmony of spheres in the comments...

This makes me exceedingly happy.

2011-12-11T20:28:00.000-05:00

Tequila makes the sun rise in my soul.

The ModSauce Ranch had guests this weekend to celebrate an early Christmas. We celebrated by making tacos and margaritas because that's what the baby jeezus would definitely have opted for over frankincense and myrrh had it been available. People in olden times certainly had it hard.

To be completely honest, someone else made me the delicioso tacos and margaritas because even after all these months the kitchen of amazing awesomeness still inspires people to create culinary masterpieces. That was the real purpose of renovating the kitchen... So other people would want to cook for me. That's what good design is - manipulative and saucy.

During this party weekend the Satsuma Sunrise was invented. It's like a regular pitcher of margaritas but had about a dozen satsuma oranges blended into it. It was so good I almost forgot who I was and celebrated the birth of jeezus. Or maybe that was the tequila...?

And then of course we had to have an impromptu Design and Styling Challenge because it's a tradition now to create a cocktail out of whatever kind of booze and other drinkable liquids I have at the house and then photograph it looking sexy for maximum legitimacy. I hear it's what all the cool bloggers do.

Also, it makes it taste better that way.

And yes those are all things I had laying around the house. It looks like we're celebrating the Day of the Dead at a Z gallerie in 1976.

Which would be AWESOME.

Today was a good day.

2011-12-08T22:19:00.000-05:00

I don't know what y'all were doing in the late '80s/early '90s but if you were like me you were probably organizing your Lisa Frank trapper keeper and alphabetizing your R.L. Stine books while listening to gangsta rap.

I knew what a gangsta lean was long before I learned to drive. I could draw you a map of South Central L.A. but probably couldn't make it to the grocery store without getting lost in the woods for a few weeks.

It was a strange mix for us Gen Y kids. I bet this blog is the result of that kind of childhood...

So needless to say when the following news made its way across my dashboard today (the 21st century version of my Lisa Frank trapper keeper) I almost squeed myself silly.

Ice Cube - the icy rapper not on Law & Order: SVU if you don't know (and now you know) -

I do believe this gentleman has a connection to the Westside.

- was an architectural draftsman the same time he was a part of N.W.A. That's right. Those blueprints came straight outta Compton. (What percentage of bloggers are making these jokes you bet? I say about eleventy-seven.)

So with that kind of background he is, naturally, now narrating a video about the Eames House for the 'Pacific Standard Time: Art in L.A. 1945-1980' - the collection of exhibitions about the post-war art and design in Southern California.

Makes total fucking sense to me.

Fantastic. Pictures via NYT

Having this poster would make my life complete.

But the video makes my eternity:

"This is going green 1949 style, bitch. Believe dat."

Just the greatest collection of words ever uttered in the history of the spoken language.

After seeing this I think I've finally figured out what I want to be when I grow up! Ice Cube and I are basically the same person because according to the NY Times he was a draftsman for a year and I also have almost zero experience in the design world. We also both think it's appropriate to check yo self before you wreck yo self. (Sorry, I can't stop.) And when feeling saucy, I even sound a bit like Ice Cube (if he had a lovechild with Kellie Pickler that was raised a valley girl) so I think it's only reasonable that I should also get to narrate videos of amazing spaces. In fact, I should do it all over the world! Like the Travel Channel meets HGTV but baked in a casserole with a can of cream of chicken soup.

Best show ever. Even better than Hoarders and Mad Men baked in a casserole with a can of cream of chicken soup.

Check your local listings in the summer of 2017.

I'm goin hillbilly gangsta style, bitch. Believe dat.

It's easy to coordinate with boring.

2011-12-06T22:21:00.000-05:00

Drawing all day is career so strenuous it is often confused with digging ditches and being a prison guard. However, it does have a few perks. I get paid to look at lots of magazines, when I'm having PMS I can just claim it's my sensitive designer temperament and eat lots of chocolate and then go look at more magazines for inspiration and when I'm done looking at magazines I get to, well... draw all day.

The down side is that my eyeballs are sensitive to pattern and I tend to avoid wearing them and using them at the Ranch because I have to create them all damn day. I usually enjoy a solid color and subtle texture like it was the last drop of vodka left in my freezer. I was color blocking long before we called it color blocking - it was just called 'yawn' back then.

watercolor ikat via Republic of Chic but the artist?

But eyeball seizures be damned! I've caught the pattern bug lately and feel like indulging a little visual vomit before I'm scurry back to my safe place of black and brown. They have tea cozies and footed pajamas in solid color land too. It's nice.

But flower orgasmisplosions are better. Go big or go home is what I always say when I'm not saying something else about staying small wherever you are.

via Lookbook

Maybe I'll even WEAR some pattern! And put it with contrasting pattern.

There is no room big enough to contain my creativity.

via Refinery29

Nor house my scarf collection.

via designworklife - same artist as above?

There is no stopping me.

scarves from a sale on Fab

With the scarves.

I'm a madwoman of pattern I tell you.

via Erin Ever After

Or maybe that's just my sensitive madwoman designer temperament coming out.

Either way, I'm going to get some shades just like that.

To bring some much-needed sauce to the ditch digging community.

Don't Stop Til It Thunders: The Story of a Sauce That Was Modern.

2011-12-04T22:30:00.000-05:00

Forget about your holiday-induced depression and pathetic attempts at an organized Christmas list because we're celebrating today! We are at the magical time of the calendar that marks the two year anniversary of this blog and the five year anniversary of my buying the Ranch. *cue squeeing* Happy bloggiversary and ranchiversary to me!

This is totally me about to get my blogging on.

Being at that intersection of two such momentous occasions makes a madame reflective. There must be unicorn magic around here... I knew I smelled cookies and sweaty flanks!

Somehow I thought I would be farther along when these two milestones passed even though I never set any concrete goals for myself let alone that I'd still be blogging/ranching at this time.

When I bought my house I assumed by now I would have a show-stopping home of amazing awesomeness and throw lavish dinner parties all the time and twirl down my hall while putting away towels that smelled like a dewy fields of lavender because I obviously I'm at the point in my life where I make my own laundry detergent out of dewy lavender fields. Instead I'm in pajamas at noon next to the pile of towels on my couch that I'm going to fold as soon as I get off Pinterest in 7 hours.

BUT I actually have a couch now to put the towels on and I can see my kitchen winking at my from across the room and a house full of other tiny milestones you get when going about the process of building a home from scratch. So I guess I did come a long way in five years even though I don't churn my own goat butter in my immaculately decorated butter-churning shed. Instead I just have a mint green mini barn out back and an Earthfare close by.

And even though I mostly wanted to have some funny fun times when I started the blog two years ago I probably assumed I would be queen of blogging by now and get to make a living sitting on my couch at noon blogging in my pajamas. Hey wait a minute...??? I may not be the most visited blog but I've received amazing perks, having a substantial amount of readers that regularly prove more badass than me and I get to start conversations that set my soul on fiyah. So I guess I did come a long way in two years even though I can't sustain my queen's existence yet while wearing pajamas. Instead I have a bottle of haute sauce with my face on it and a digital scrapbook of my adventures and that's a special kind of awesome I wouldn't have even guessed at two years ago.

I'm not as far along as I'd hoped in these two areas not because I've failed but because I'm just not done yet.

A good friend once shared with me the old folk wisdom that when a snapping turtle bites it won't let go until it hears thunder. Ahhh... hillbillies. Not my friend, she was an artist not an Appalachian witch woman. It was relevant to a deep conversation we were having about art and SHUT UP YOU WEREN'T THERE!

So now every time I think about working hard on something or I need a motivational pep talk like in the locker room at halftime during every football movie ever made I just think about snapping turtles, imagine myself in super slow motion under bright lights and whisper ever so softly - don't stop til it thunders.

Because my life is EXACTLY like football.

I'm like Rudy if Rudy was a snapping turtle with a vagina.

But not a vagina that snaps because that's totally stupid and why would you even think that, you disgusting pervert?!

Not a snapping turtle. Nor has a vagina. (That we know about.)

So here's what I'm not done doing (other than murdering the English language) and even more things I might do until I hear thunder:

- Dangling some more pretty shit in your face. Hey, we all like looking at design-related porn. Perhaps I'll try to show you even more of it. I don't have to write an essay about every little thing I see so to make your life a little easier and help with your carpel tunnel from having to skim over all my self-indulgent paragraphs I might be more concise too. Present blog post excluded.

- I will probably dangle pretty and concise shit in your face more often to distract you from the other posts I want to write that are not concise and are long and wordy and maybe even have real human emotion in them. Ugh, I know. I felt you *eyeroll* from here. But don't forget - MOAR PRETTY SHIT IN YOUR FACE!

- Sometimes that pretty shit might come from the Ranch too because it's time to start stepping up my game here at home. Madame Lacy Sauce has a lot of projects to do and dammit if I'm not gonna dangle those results in your face too. I'm saying it might get personal. As in more DIY. I don't know though... this pile of towels is pretty big.

- I might even learn how to use my camera for realz when I share this amazing awesomeness I've DIYed from the Ranch. You mean learn a new skill?! I know, I might be talking crazy here.

- Of course, we'll continue to celebrate mediocrity not because I believe the stagnation born of apathy is a virtue, but because I think perfectionism is a disease that many people actively infect themselves with. Let's all continue to give a collective middle finger to that idea and celebrate how we actually live instead. Let's Occupy Real Life, muthafuckers! Let's celebrate the imperfectly fun, messy, hopeful, sometimes glamorous but mostly mundane parts with swagger, glitter and a very large glass of sauce.

- Oh and obviously we have yet to talk about Breaking Dawn so that will definitely be discussed in the near future. This is a design blog with impeccable taste and standards.

So thanks to all my readers, commenters, tweeters, G+ers, members of Team Edward, Facebookers even though I'm not on Facebook, lurkers, unicorns, friends who are forced to listen to me talk about blogging, other bloggers who I'm inspired by and Julia Sugarbaker.

That was a long post to say you guys are awesome and I'll see you tomorrow - same time, same place, same snap, same sauce.

Until it thunders.

I don't know what will happen when it thunders but I bet it's good...

I'll probably just keep blogging because it'll most likely be raining then and I'll be forced to sit inside in front of my laptop anyway.

Community Craft College: Like regular college but with more popsicle sticks and crying.

2011-11-30T22:58:00.000-05:00

There's only so much inspirational images you can look at before you reach maximum interior porn saturation without having to actually do something to alleviate your frustration. Which is to say I've been feeling - *gulp* - crafty lately. I KNOW! I know.

But now I have an actual sewing machine. In my possession.

I haven't sewn anything since I was 14 when I used to alter my clothes (for the worse). I don't know why I did considering everything I wore back then came from the men's department of the thrift store but I guess I wanted to appear even more awkward and unattractive than my dark lip liner and poser attitude made me.

I think there's a bobbin involved but I don't remember. Sigh...

via The House Home

I better learn myself good because I have a lot of fun fabric that needs to be made into a comfortably eclectic pillow assemblage like this picture above. By 'comfortably eclectic pillow assemblage' I mean pile of lumpy fabric with wonky seams.

I wish I could DIY everything else in that room but I should start small. And go light on the ric rac.

via Luxe Source

I might even paint some artiness too! I have less painting experience than sewing experience but I'm hoping all that angst surrounding my weirdo men's clothes phase will burst forth from my brush into glorious rivers of color that will touch your soul. SHUT UP IT COULD HAPPEN! Maybe it'll even be red. I don't know, I'm talking crazy here. Even that bust is looking at me like WTF?

via Head Over Heels

Maybe I'll just stick to something big and blue and abstract. Or maybe I'll just sit and drool over the rest of this room because gawddamn. Learning how to paint something that big will take a lot of time in addition to all my pillow-making. It's gonna be a busy winter. I don't even know how I'm going to make time for all the refrigerator styling I have planned. (MS sidebar: I hate glass dining room tables. I always feel like I'm having everyone else's crotch for dinner. It'll be kinda weird when I have to unbutton my (totally not men's) pants for the second serving of lasagna too.)

via Elle Interiors

I'm not crafting anything from this room but I just like it. It's sparkle city up in the ModSauce hizzy right now - there's glitter and Christmas shine crammed errywhere there is a free corner. This simple open space seems like such a nice summer novelty right now. I give two thumbs up for the bombe chest next to the Malm. I assume it's Malm but I don't really care if it's not. I'm thoroughly distracted by the goldiness.

Hhmm... could I craft something with more goldiness??

via somewhere on Because I'm Addicted

This doesn't inspire me to craft something but I just love everything about this ferociously masculine room and want to share it with you. Except the coffee table. Maybe some masculine people need a tiny table to place their delicate demitasse cups and watercress sandwiches but I need a giant coffee table. For large important lady business.

A Thanksgiving guest actually commented that my coffee table is the perfect size table for 'grudge fucking.' I was going to say it's the perfect size for intense crafting projects like sewing wonky pillows but I obviously need to open my mind up to other possibilities.

Unfortunately, I hold grudges with about as much skill as sewing straight seams. I should work on that skill as part of my winter continuing education program here at the ModSauce Ranch Community College because grudge fucking sounds way more satisfying than fucking up pillows and canvases.

If I earn a grudge-fucking credit I probably won't tell you about it. But be prepared for all my sad art and pillows to be featured IN DEPTH!

You know you want it.

It's hard to artfully style boxes of pizza rolls

2011-11-27T22:45:00.001-05:00

After three fun-filled Food Pornologist celebrations this weekend I can assure you that the Brussels sprouts did make me cream my sweat pants and my tummy and fridge are delightfully bursting at the seams. For Marthia. And America.

I figured this would be a perfect time to talk about this series of photographs about refrigerator portraits by Mark Menjivar called You Are What You Eat. I'm really subtle with the segues, huh? Almost as subtle as my lust for Thanksgiving food.

Community volunteer, completely blind and lives alone

Mark spent three years photographing the insides of people's refrigerators which sounds awesome and horrible. He wanted people to think about "How we care for our bodies. How we care for others. How we care for the land."

Deli attendant, disowned by parents for marrying a black man

Each photograph has a little factual tidbit about the owner which I find infinitely fascinating. But not as fascinating as Dr. Thunder - the best brand name of anything ever invented of all time ever. It's like Dr. Feelgood but BETTER!

Retired train conductor, started Meals on Wheels in his community

I have spent an unhealthy amount of time going though every photo and recreating the meals and lives of each person. What's under that paper towel? What's he gonna do with the lettuce?

Street advertiser, lives on $432 monthly fixed income

WHAT IS IN THE BLACK BAG? How can this person afford to eat at all?

College student, drummer for death metal band

Midwife/middle school science teacher, 1st week after deciding to eat all local produce

The caption for this one is fantastic.

So naturally I decided to participate so everyone can judge me by the contents of my fridge.

Designer/blogger, Believes glitter holds magical powers

I took this picture three months ago but didn't post it because #1 - it feels really really personal sharing the contents of your fridge. Easy to extrapolate someone's life based on their Dr. Thunder habit, but harder to share your food decisions with the world. #2 - Although I'm fascinated by the larger themes by the photographs and being a voyeur is always super fun, does anyone really give a shit about what I have in my fridge?

So it lingered in my drafts folder like that about that peach I forgot about in the back of the fridge.

I decided it was time to share after my blog daddy Paul Anater of Kitchen and Residential Design sent me a link to a blogger who styles - yes STYLES - her fridge.

here

She suggests placing a small vase of flowers in the fridge, keeping leftovers in French canning jars and tying up cheese and meats in parchment paper and string to make a prettier fridge.

I eyerolled so hard my eyes literally popped out of my head and rolled across the floor and it sounds like Charlemagne is nibbling on them but I can't really tell because I HAVE NO EYES.

I applaud her attention to detail about things I could give a shit about but damn, y'all. Is no place safe from the precious fingers of design bloggers? If looking at cold flowers every time you open the fridge to grab a beer makes your heart soar with delight then happily I support your compulsion and future appearance on Strange Addiction.

But in a culture where every one is Photoshopped and every thing is styled like Marthia, gawddess of hearth and French canning jars, is knocking on your door, can't I have one area where it's okay to be apathetic about pretty? Possibly even *gasp* ugly?

I'm not really waffling on this issue - it's a rhetorical question. I'm completely apathetic and ugly about many areas of my life including but not limited to the state of my fridge, my sock drawer, my pedicure in winter and my entire guest room.

Call me a judgmental asshole because I have no problem making negative assumptions about the ~~sanity~~ motivations of someone who wants to style their produce but pretend I don't make negative assumptions about the type of person who leaves pots of food uncovered in a fridge like in the photos above. That is so gross to me. Maybe they're grossed out by the current state of my toenail cuticles so I guess we're even.

But I would happily be friends with someone who enjoys Dr. Thunder but if I saw they had gift-wrapped their raw chicken I might have to reevaluate our friendship.

By reevaluate I mean get the hell out of their house as fast as I can.

But I'd totally steal some fancy butter as I self-righteously run away.

You can judge me for that too.

Honoring America's greatest treasure: National Food Pornologist Day

2011-11-21T23:45:00.000-05:00

Thanksgiving is a day to recognize the what really makes our country great - the food pornologists. Put away your shirts with buttons, adorn yourself in your dressiest sweat pants, let that muffin top loose and prepare your reserve stash of napkins because the gravy is about to runneth over, motherfuckers!

Onto your pants.

[Insert timely Monica Lewinsky joke]

You holiday food whore, you.

I love Thanksgiving not only because it is the gateway drug to Christmas - my favoritest time of the year - but because it is an exercise in logistics. Fuck portion control and the 'no thanks, I've had enough" attitude of quitters and fascist assholes, there is a science to properly forcing Gastronomic Olympic-sized amounts of food into your body in a way that will allow you to do it over and over again.

For a day every November, I'm like a binge eating scientist for the ole US of A. A Six Sigma black belt of food-to-stomach engineering. It takes a master's degree in physics to figure out exactly how much food I can shove in my face hole to maximize repeated deliciousity. Fortunately I have all of those qualifications because this is America gawddamit! A magic land of opportunity where I can be a whore for casseroles AND a super smart scientist of food things because of feminism and all. It's called progress.

And according to manifest destiny I WILL look yonder to the end of that table and annihilate every casserole in my path towards total and utter gluttonous success. I will shed my horribly restrictive shackles (pants) and crawl along the table righteously and gloriously over the hillbilly mountains of squash casserole, past the ashes of Sherman's destruction and the shallow remnants of gluey mashed potatoes while I hum the Battle Hymn of the Republic and salute thee, oh gravy.

Past the carcasses of our fallen brethren and a deep-fried fowl and onward through the plundered fields of green bean casserole I will stake my claim just like Tom Cruise in Far and Away - that documentary about American pioneer Scientologists.

On a covered wagon through the western desserts of crumbly cornbread dressing washed down with cranberry sauce, I will dry hump that empty casserole dish hard enough enough to give it smallpox because I'm also a medical doctor for the day and that's exactly how that works according to the time I spent in 8th grade playing Oregon Trail.

Finally, to the far reaches of our golden coast of the dining table where Paula Deen awaits me with ooey gooey pumpkin cakes and a stick of butter she will annoint our naked bodies with while we writhe ceremoniously to the beat of Native American drums and gourds filled with dried beans played by Taylor Swift. A bald eagle will drop bits of pie into our upturned mouths. Mouths hungry for tradition and sticky sweet goodness - desires born of a world built upon cans of sweetened condensed milk and cheese logs.

We will not stop with the ceremonious writhing until all of the offerings have been consumed to honor Marthia, the gawdess of hearth and insulin production and Amazonitus, the gawd of Black Friday deals. Our frenzied ritual will end in the greatest orgasmisplosion of fireworks that our founding fathers Abraham Lincoln and the baby jeezus have ever seen.

With Reddi Wip on top.

What I'm saying is, I am rather partial to Thanksgiving fare and can't wait to finally cook some holiday meals in my new kitchen.

Here is one thing I will cook in it for National Ford Pornologist Day:

I almost creamed my sweat pants when I saw this recipe for cream-braised Brussels sprouts via the always delicious Orangette.

It's better if the cream comes from the teat of Marthia but sometimes it's hard to find.

Happy Thanksgiving, y'all. Hug a food pornologist this week. For America.

But not too tight - they might explode and then that would be a waste of science.

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Today, everyone from the Let's Blog Off gang - that rag tag group of bloggers that convene every two weeks - is talking about Thanksgiving. Go here to be a voyeur on everyone else's thoughts about National Food Pornologist Day.

ModernSauce

Put a bush on it.

Madame Sunday and the Technicolor Avatar

Ladies (and wolves) get in free before 11 to the Backyard Tent of Lady Chi Magic.

This makes me exceedingly happy. And slightly terrified...

The limited edition Capezio Glock would be at the top of my Amazon wish list.

Doorway to Heaven. (Probably because there are Turkish delights inside...)

I'm tagging this "Pretty places I wouldn't put dumpster flowers in"

Tangerine can Tango with my fist!

Here's one more awesome thing that Netflix won't have...

I think it's time to beat this one-trick pony to death.

Next year you're all getting gift cards to Big Lots.

This makes me exceedingly happy.

I like my geometric shapes like I like women: curvy and in multiples.

This is what it sounds like when doves predict the future.

Merry Chrimas, y'all!

I like to go BUCK WILD for the holidays.

Dear Santa,

The Sunday Set. Yep, nothing but some pretty pictures here... *whistles*

This makes me exceedingly happy.

Today was a good day.

It's easy to coordinate with boring.

Don't Stop Til It Thunders: The Story of a Sauce That Was Modern.

Community Craft College: Like regular college but with more popsicle sticks and crying.

It's hard to artfully style boxes of pizza rolls

Honoring America's greatest treasure: National Food Pornologist Day

The Sunday Set. Yep, nothing but some pretty pictures here... whistles