Hey there. This week I’m going to share my conversation with our friend SinisterRouge. (Don’t worry, I didn’t mention politics. Down South it’s just rude to discuss such a thing.) Now, SinRoo has never fed me, but she will whisper sweet nothings to me in Spanish, and I do enjoy that. This week it’s only 16 Questions for City People, because one question was not answered.
How old are you? 29
Did you grow up here or move here? When? I was born in South America and moved here when I was 2. I grew up in Queens and then the NYC suburbs.
What do you do at your job? I work at a very busy office. I run the joint.
Who is the most famous person you have seen randomly? Matt Lauer (can you believe that shit?? That’s the closest thing I’ve come to spotting one!)
Do you know how to cook…if so, do you cook? Yes. I do know how to cook. However, it’s limited to Spanish food. And it’s limited to trashy Spanish food. I have no formal breeding.
What is the first clue someone is a tourist? The fact that they walk very slowly. It’s true. It’s brutal now because you get the young’uns that move from another state that say they “live” here….yet they walk like they’re still in Kentucky. [It's a good thing you didn't say Arkansas .]
I had to wait for a second train this morning because there were so many people on the train…DON’T THEY KNOW WHO I AM? You should tell them you are the Queen: BANGIEB. That should work. That’s what I do. I am SinRoo, FUCK OFF.
In the South men carry wallets, but here they carry purses. What’s up with that? They are totally womanly here (sorry). They should carry wallets like real men but they like to be “sensitive” and “with it” so they carry purses. And of course, Apple products.
What is your favorite covered dish? Huh? What’s a covered dish?
Booze, pills or weed? Weed!!!
I keep seeing people with “The North Face” on their coats. What is that? It’s a brand of cold-weather gear. However, the shit they make is awesome. I have a North Face bookbag. Their stuff is strong and lasts forever. Their coats are big and warm as hell.
In the South we go to church on Sunday morning. What do you do? I wake up late, make my man bang me and then I rejoice in the fact that I’m not religious. [Why do you try to hurt me?]
What is your favorite place to go/thing to do in the city? I love going out to eat at cute restaurants on the LES. That is my most favorite thing to do. Oh, and I love going to movies at the Angelika and Chelsea West theaters. I have had the BEST movie experiences at those two places: movie nerds gathered round to appreciate good cinema.
What is the air speed of an unladened swallow? No fucking clue.
What is your favorite Lindsay Lohan movie? Mean Girls, for sure. Hilarious, well-acted and Lindsay looks like a dream. I love her in that movie. [Why, yes, she does look like a dream, because she is so pretty.]
And, lastly, cake or pie? CAKE!!!!!!!!!!!! [Yeah, Cake! Sooooo much better than pie.]
Thanks, SinRoo, for mentioning trashy Spanish food, as it gives me a segue into this week’s Southern favorite: Rotel Dip. Now in the South, Spanish and Mexican are the same thing, and one of our favorite Mexican dishes is Rotel Dip. I prefer the original version, but many fine Southern ladies add either ground beef or sausage to spice it up and make it fancy for Sunday evening fellowships. Or baby showers. Or bunkin’ parties.
Look how fancy my crockin’ pot is~it has a nice carrying case with handles on the outside and straps on the inside to hold the lid in place. And please remember, Rotel dip is to be made in a crockin’ pot ONLY. Not the microwave. Don’t let anyone – no matter how pretty and smart she is – tell you otherwise.
Next week we will hear from IdenticleK, and hopefully we will answer the question “Do twins continue to sleep in bunk beds after they grow up?”
February 27, 2009 at 10:52 am
When I move into a different apartment, I am totally getting a crockpot (I don’t have enough storage space in my current kitchen). Then I will make my mom’s chili all winter long. Mmm.
I’m proud to say that I walk damn fast. Walked fast before I moved here, though I may walk even faster now. Long legs FTW!
February 27, 2009 at 2:01 pm
I walk fast even when I don’t know where I’m going. Particularly in an unfamiliar place, as I don’t want to look like I don’t know where I’m going. I have been known to circle blocks and take very out-of-the-way routes just to avoid turning around or consulting a map. I’m not sure where this fear of looking like a tourist came from, but my pride just won’t allow it.
February 27, 2009 at 12:26 pm
I think we have the same crocking pot!!!
IdenticleK will have to confirm though, as she’s the one who cooks.
February 27, 2009 at 12:51 pm
i don’t understand.
February 28, 2009 at 9:50 am
Bless it. What don’t you understand?
February 27, 2009 at 1:11 pm
Did your crockin’ pot come with its case, or was it something you bought separately? I need a case for mine.
February 27, 2009 at 3:41 pm
Yes I was just thinking how i could finally make that (for indeed, a baby shower on Sunday) but I do not have the fancy carrying case…dammit.
February 27, 2009 at 5:40 pm
My crockin’ pot came with the fancy insulated bag. Y’all can still take your pot with you, just sit it in a box and put it in the floorboard of your car.
February 27, 2009 at 3:42 pm
“I have no formal breeding”
And that, SinRoo, is why we love you.
Also, I am next week?!?! I don’t even remember my answers but I am so excited!
February 27, 2009 at 4:03 pm
Forgive this loooooong comment, but I think it’s worth it. There’s a song in the Stephen Sondeim musical “Company” which sums up the way New York is a continual beehive…(sorry, no really good versions of it on YouTube. Anyone have it on ITunes?)
Another hundred people just got off of the train
And came up through the ground,
While another hundred people just got off of the bus
And are looking around
At another hundred people who got off of the plane
And are looking at us
Who got off of the train
And the plane and the bus
Maybe yesterday.
It’s a city of strangers,
Some come to work, some to play.
A city of strangers,
Some come to stare, some to stay.
And every day
The ones who stay
Can find each other in the crowded streets and the guarded parks,
By the rusty fountains and the dusty trees with the battered barks,
And they walk together past upholstered walls with the crude remarks.
And they meet at parties through the friends of friends who they never
know.
“Do I pick you up or do I meet you there or shall we let it go?”
“Did you get my message? ‘Cause I looked in vain.”
“Can we see each other Tuesday if it doesn’t rain?”
“Look, I’ll call you in the morning or my service will explain.”
And another hundred people just got off of the train.
It’s a city of strangers,
Some come to work, some to play.
A city of strangers,
Some come to stare, some to stay.
And every day
Some go away
Or they find each other in the crowded streets and the guarded parks,
By the rusty fountains and the dusty trees with the battered barks,
And they walk together past upholstered walls with the crude remarks.
And they meet at parties through the friends of friends who they never
know.
“Do I pick you up or do I meet you there or shall we let it go?”
“Did you get my message? ‘Cause I looked in vain.”
“Can we see each other Tuesday if it doesn’t rain?”
“Look, I’ll call you in the morning or my service will explain.”
And another hundred people just got off of the train.
And another hundred people just got off of the train,
And another hundred people just got off of the train,
And another hundred people just got off of the train.
Another hundred people just got off of the train.
February 27, 2009 at 4:05 pm
Try this:
http://www.allmusicals.com/lyrics/company/anotherhundredpeople.htm
February 27, 2009 at 4:05 pm
http://www.allmusicals.com/lyrics/company/anotherhundredpeople.htm
March 1, 2009 at 8:35 pm
boo! i love that damn crock pot! TACO SOUP!!! can we make that soon?!??
March 2, 2009 at 2:24 am
Hmm… I pride myself on walking and talking slowly and not moving at insane speed. But then there are the really really really slow people who act like they have nowhere to go. Fucking Los Angeles.