The Dissemination (of Thought) Files: An aversion to chocolate cake and the half-chewed steak
For the first instalment of The Dissemination (of Thought) Files, we hit the Mediterranean coast to get down and dirty with Cakes McCain on all things Italian, including Fiats, foreplay and Mamma’s tomato sauce.
In today’s interview, I speak to Amy, author of 2012: 365 Days a Year and self-confessed crazy M&M’s sorter. Our chat has a bit of everything, from an intellectually stimulating volley about frog legs, to a pitiful request for a crisp Ben Franklin. Oh, and theses guys and their friends make a guest appearance.
Lyndon Keane (TDoT): I think I ran into your car when I was parking. How often do you use your right-hand side mirror while driving? It’s currently sitting on your letterbox.
M&M’s Amy (M&MA): Is it the whole “right side of the road” concept that gets you? No worries on the mirror though; I don’t often worry about what’s behind me because I tend to focus on what’s in front of me. You know, what I can see, touch and taste.
TDoT: What you can taste? While you drive? You don’t lick the little pine tree air freshener, do you?
In your post “Amy’s Top Ten Gross Foods”, you give frog legs the number nine spot with the justification that eating the legs off something that “croaks and pees in your hand” isn’t right. Have you ever been to a French restaurant – or Taco Bell for that matter – that let you play with Kermit’s relatives in order to select which ones you wanted to form your amphibian entrée?
M&MA: French? No, I’m Irish. And who hasn’t made a run for the border? Especially after a late night of drinking, since Taco Bell is the only place other than McDonald’s that’s open. Haven’t you seen all the eye-catching pink goo they use to make their McNuggets on Yahoo News, or the article about the teenager who hasn’t eaten anything but said nuggets since she was two, and was hospitalised because of a lack of nourishment?
Author’s note: no, I don’t have any idea how we got onto the topic of McNuggets, either.
But back to your question. I guess with enough hot taco sauce, even amphibian could taste good. That said, this coming from a girl who uses Bambi meat to make her tacos.
TDoT: Is it just me, or do the frog legs in the article photograph look like the bottom halves of severed anatomical models?
M&MA: Freaky, isn’t it? At first glance, it made me think of Barbie dolls that had been broken in half. You have to give the frog legs props though, look at those muscles.
TDoT: Let’s talk M&M’s. You mention on your blog that in order to eat them, you need to line them up two by two in colour-coded harmony; does that make you some sort of chocolate candy Noah?
M&MA: I ask you Lyndon, what would possess anyone to put an odd number of M&M’s in a packet, and why would you not ensure that there were the same number of each colour?
TDoT: Do you ever feel sorry for the leftover ones that you throw away? Those Mix Ups with 3 different types of M&M’s in the packet must really fuck with your head.
M&MA: Yes, especially when nuts are involved; they just roll all over the damn place instead of staying put, squirrely bastards that they are.
TDoT: Tell us about the CDO, your version of obsessive-compulsive disorder. Does having to alphabetise self-diagnosed conditions present any difficulties?
M&MA: Only when I’m at a barbeque and there’s no silverware. Actually, I think it’s more of a hindrance to those around me; I drive my assistant crazy because, for me, everything has to be in a specific order, whereas she prefers random clutter.
Probably the most difficult aspect for me is eating. I’m a section eater and am very texture oriented. For instance, if I’m eating steak and chew even the slightest bit of fat, it’s no more steak for me. Never mind that it’s only the second bite, the person who gets an almost whole steak to eat never complains.
TDoT: In one of your older pieces, you got very philosophical when you asked “When is new not new anymore?” What’s the answer? I promise if I knew when new was no longer new I’d tell you.
M&MA: The short answer is once you take the tag off, use it, wash it or wear it. Of course, this answer all depends on what one is referring to.
TDoT: You make reference in one post to a soldier who “decided to desert his dessert in the desert.” Are there any cakes, confections or puddings that you wouldn’t feel bad about leaving in the middle of the Sahara?
M&MA: As strange as this may seem, chocolate cake. Sure, it’s a staple among desserts and although I love both chocolate and cake, I do not love them together. Of course, even more horrid – I absolutely love that word – than chocolate cake is tapioca pudding. It looks as though someone sneezed in the pudding and stirred it in to hide the evidence. Again, it’s a texture thing.
TDoT: So you’re against interdessert relationships? Never mind. Can I borrow $100?
M&MA: What will you give me if I do, Lyndon? I assume I can call you Lyndon at this point, seeing as you’re attempting to “borrow” more than few of my hard-earned bucks.
It’s not that I mind. If anything, I am appallingly giving, so much in fact that if someone asked for the shirt on my back, I’d probably hand it over, so long as I had another one on underneath. After all, you can always put more clothes on, but you can only take off so many before you start offending people. But why not go out of your way for someone else on occasion? Is being genuinely nice to someone else really that hard? I don’t necessarily believe the whole “do unto others as you would have done to you” credo, simply because for most people, it means nothing to them. For others, it may not be in a positive way.
Isn’t it fascinating how most people use the term “borrow” like they’re actually going to give whatever it is they took back? Why not just say, “Can I have?”
TDoT: Okay then, can I have $100? No? One of your nicknames growing up was Vera Bubbles. What was all that about? I’ve got an image in my head of an 83-year-old stripper.
M&MA: Are we talking male or female stripper here? And you think my CDO is strange. 83-year-old strippers do not form any part of the image that comes to my mind.
The nickname stems from seven fun-filled days of walking through the woods, avoiding banana spiders, swamps and other assorted creepy crawlies at summer camp in the 8th grade. One of the camp counsellors, who – judging by how short his shorts were – could have been mistaken for a much-younger-than-83-year-old male stripper, had a hard time remembering names. Apparently Amy is harder to remember than Vera, so I was dubbed with the nickname Vera.
The second part of the nickname was given to me by my bunkmates, as they seemed to think I was the bubbly one of the group. The most likely cause of my bubbly disposition was what makes the hearts of all 13-year-old girls go crazy and their hormones run rampant: the tall drink of handsome that was Tim, our hot, hot counsellor. At that moment, Vera Bubbles was born.
TDoT: Thank you for joining me today Amy, and for the $100 I took out of your purse when you were ranting about McNuggets.
Next week, The Dissemination (of Thought) Files puts the author of the always insightful, occasionally controversial Impassioned Rantings of an Unbalanced Mind under the microscope, in an attempt to ascertain who actually did steal the cookie from the cookie jar.
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