1. Willie Nelson

photo taken from www.allaccess.com

Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know. I know. As my friend Kristina said, “You look at him and you can smell it.” I just thought the scraggly beard, bandana, and overall hippie look was his old-timer schtick. You know, the old guy from a different era who could tell you horror stories about Vietnam while sitting on his front porch whittling weird shit like gnomes out of pine. Except in Willie’s case, he’d pepper his stories and gnome-whittling with old-timer songs, songs that are raw and have a lot of character. It wasn’t until last year when I heard DJs speculating on the radio how Willie would celebrate 4/20 since he was in the hospital at the time. Yes, I knew the significance of 4/20, but never caught onto the fact that Willie Nelson was a pothead. I don’t get it either.

2. Mary Jane’s Last Dance

I didn’t learn this song was about pot (well, the chorus, anyway) until a few weeks ago when my office-mate had to spell it out for me. After she did, the meaning of the line, “Last dance with Mary Jane/one more time to kill the pain” came crashing down around me, forever changing the meaning of the song. Up until that moment, I thought Tom Petty was singing about a girl named Mary Jane, despite the fact that “Mary Jane” is a common slang term for pot, and that whole lyric might as well have been him saying, “I really like to smoke weed, y’all.” I just thought Mary Jane was the girl who “grew up tall and she grew up right with them Indiana boys on an Indiana night.” And then my brain got it weirdly twisted up and I thought she was dead (because of that damn video).

Yes, I know that marijuana is commonly referred to as “Mary Jane,” but that entire lyric went right over my head. I don’t get it either.

Any other pot-related stuff I should be clued in on?

Actually, this playlist has a lot of unintentionally depressing songs on it, which might make you want to kill yourself. Sorry. Just the songs I’m loving lately are either depressing or about illegal narcotic drugs. Don’t judge me.

Bonus tracks!  (Because I couldn’t find them on playlist.com.)

First off, I don’t know what the fuck Vajazzle is, but I’m going to go out on a limb and assume it’s like BeDazzling your vaj.

Secondly, I don’t really know what the point of it is. I’m sure it lends a certain aesthetic quality to your goodies, but I’m also pretty certain that if a dude knows he’s about to gain access into your bejeweled lady garden of love, he wouldn’t recognize your artwork if it shot out disco lights and blared “It’s Raining Men.“

Personally, I like to think it’s like a road map for dudes who don’t know where anything is. (“Hey, Romeo, see that sparkly thing? The sweet spot is two inches south, three o’ clock.”)

I also think the word “Vajazzle” should be said like it has an exclamation mark after it, accompanied with jazz hands.

Vajazzle!

If I had any musical talent whatsoever, I’d turn The Vagina Monologues into a musical and rename it The Vajazzle! Monologues. It would star Nathan Lane because, weirdly, I think he could pull it off. This could be a good project for Trey Parker and Matt Stone, a good followup to The Book of Mormon. I’d see it.

So, yeah, Vajazzle. Things that make you go hmmmm…

EDIT: So a Facebook fan just alerted me to something called Vajacials. Yes, it is exactly how it sounds. I can’t. I can’t even. This will definitely be included in The Vajazzle! Monologues. 

In celebration of this (or rather, I have no other choice BUT to succumb to this next step in the transformation process), I’m going to start instituting a weekly TGIF playlist on the blog. There won’t really be a theme, just random songs I like thrown together in one package.

Okay, so I’m a liar. There IS a bit of a theme to this one: hipster/indie. Because, why not? And it all kicks off with my favorite song about cocaine. Enjoy.

For tonight’s foodie adventure, I was sans my partner-in-crime, but not alone. My friend Alisha was down to try a new restaurant, so we met at 7:30 for food and drinks and to see what all the talk was about.

Picture the most hipster-riffic person you know. Now picture where he or she might go when he or she wanted to dine out, and you’re probably picturing something close to edison. The place has a rustic, industrial feel, with cement walls and wooden and tile table-top accents, and a wooden accent wall behind the bar. Music from bands such as the Temper Traps pulsates from the stereo. Basically, it’s an atmosphere that makes me feel like I’d be more comfortable with the rest of the simple folk down at the Sizzler, grubbing out on an all you-can-eat pork chop buffet*.

However, that feeling dissipated once I saw how friendly the staff was. When we told him it was our first time eating there, our server took the time to explain the menu to us, and went into detail about some of the more popular selections, giving us plenty of time to decide what we wanted to order. We decided to order a few dishes and share, and ended up with the goat cheese truffles, the avocado leaf seared yellow fin tuna, and the cracked conch and bacon fritters. First up were the goat cheese truffles, which were comprised of medjool date, foie gras, fennel pollen, shattered citrus, and chocolate** :

Instagrammed, for that extra hipster touch.

followed by the conch fritters (pickled mustard seed, burnt honey dijonnaise) and the yellowfin  tuna (homestead green mango salad, aji amarillo sorbet, fish sauce caramel, tamarind crunch):

Cracked conch and bacon fritters

Avocado leaf seared yellow fin tuna

edison prides itself on blending unusual flavors together to create delicious concoctions, so I wasn’t really sure what to expect. What we got was a shit-ton of deliciosity. The goat cheese truffles were creamy and savory, and the sweetness of the dipping sauce perfectly complemented the robust flavor of the conch fritters. Our hands-down favorite of the night, however, was the yellow fin tuna. This had a lot going on, in the best way possible, playing around with hot and cold flavors and textures. The aji amarillo  sorbet (yes, an actual sorbet) was sweet with a little bit of a kick, and it brought out the sweetness of the mango and the onions’ tart. Likewise, the mild flavors of the avocado and tuna went well with the sweet and spicy of the other elements, and the result was a pleasant combination that kept our tastebuds on their toes.

edison is the perfect place to go if you want to shake things up and get away from the ordinary. If you have a couple of friends with more adventurous palates, bring them along. In my opinion, the experience is more fun shared.

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Mon-Fri 11:30 am – 2:30 pm

Mon-Thu 5 pm – 10 pm

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*Not that there’s anything wrong with that. I do love me a good buffet.

**Food descriptions taken directly from the menu

***

So you know that song that I am loving right now? I learned that it’s about cocaine (“chocolate” being the street name for cocaine, apparently).  Considering that I am grumpy and jaded and just OVER life on all fronts (personally, professionally, spiritually), it would make sense that I would gravitate toward a song about cocaine, thinking it had a “feel good” quality to it. Know what, though? I’M STILL LOVIN’ IT. Every time I listen to it, I feel like I should start wearing leather and shitty old jeans and smoke (cigarettes, not “chocolate”). I’m curious to see what songs my current attitude will have me get into next. Maybe they’ll be about the glory of vandalization or the rush of knocking over c-stores. Stay tuned.

One of the people I met was P. About an hour or so into the practica, my friends and I saw him. He was about 4’11″ and maybe 100 pounds soaking wet, but what made us really take notice was that the dude could dance. So much so that my friend Lee nicknamed him the Gringo Salsa King. Equipped with a shit-ton of self-confidence, he was zipping across the dance floor, asking one lady to dance, then zipping back and asking different one. He danced with short girls, tall girls, skinny girls, and not-so-skinny girls, and he rocked each dance like a frigging champion. All the women knew who he was, and he was showered with hugs and high-fives. The ladies loved P.

We loved to watch P. He had a smile constantly plastered across his face and an energy that was contagious. He loved to dance, and he thoroughly enjoyed himself with each partner (that sounded dirty), no matter the skill level. Eventually, Lee and I each got to dance with him. He taught me how to dance to bachata, and shared his secrets to becoming a dancing fool like him:

• go to as many practicas as possible
• dance with as many people as possible
• if nobody asks you to dance, ask them

P is officially my new favorite person, and living proof that a man doesn’t have to look like Brad Pitt to get in with the ladies. Confidence is the most attractive quality a person can have, and it has the ability to transform anyone into being the life of the party.

Are you excited? ‘CAUSE WE ARE! One carnivore. One vegetarian. Two mouths with a sense of adventure. Both taking on one brunch at a time.

P.S. Check out the Hoez’ first stop here.

The first stop in the #hoes4food restaurant tour? The Refinery, one of Tampa’s hottest gastropubs, showcasing local vendors and seasonal fare. We both have heard nothing but rave reviews, so I wasted no time in making a 11a.m. reservation.

Located a stone’s throw from The Independent in Seminole Heights, The Refinery is one of those places you just feel sophisticated dining in. It oozes that hipster cool, but also offers an intimate and friendly atmosphere, giving it that “neighborhood hangout” vibe.

It was beautiful outside, so we opted to be seated on the upstairs patio. Tony ordered a ManMosa and The Next Vegetarian Old Stand By, Mark VII, which is brioche can bread French Toast, caramelized plantains, walnuts, and chantilly*. I channeled my inner Southern hipster and ordered the Big Biscuit Sandwich: house cured slab bacon, a scrambled egg, Irish cheddar, tomato jam, and pickled red onion packed between two honkin’, buttery homemade biscuits (grits on the site):

Big Biscuit Sandwich. Egg McWhat?

It was delicious. The spiciness of the jam and the sweetness of the onions perfectly complemented the egg, bacon and cheese, and the grits were perfectly seasoned: not bland, but not so salty that you feel like a heifer being force-fed a salt lick. Above all, it was quality. I could tell the food had been freshly prepared and not sitting under a heat lamp for ten minutes before making its way to the table. Tony was equally pleased with his entreé, and we both agreed: the place lived up to the hype. And, bonus: the pricing is reasonable. My sandwich and coffee (Buddy Brew!) were around $13 before the tip, which is about what you’d pay at a chain breakfast joint (but without the quality and local flair, which is just depressing). High quality dining without the high quality price? Sign me the hell up. And you should sign yourself the hell up, too, because The Refinery is a place worth visiting.

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Sun – Thu 5p – 10p

Fri – Sat 5p – 11p

Brunch:

Sun 11a – 3p

Bar (awwww yeeeahhhh):

Sun – Wed 5p – 10p

Thur – Sat 5p – 12a

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