Tuesday, February 5, 2008

Ma Ma Se Ma Ma Sa Ma Ma Coo Sa

Well what do you know. My out-of-town visitor arrived on my doorstep yesterday after a harrowing trip all the way from Indiana.

He said the first part of his trip was okay, but when he arrived in New York, the motherfucking Post Office screwed up his delivery. Because, as he put it, "they are cunts."

Luckily, I checked online to see what his arrival status was. He was here, and an attempt had been made to deliver him on Saturday, according to the United States Post Office. A blatant lie - I had been home all Saturday afternoon and no one had rung my bell, nor was there a notice waiting for me.

Clearly, a lazy ass postal worker had decided to take the afternoon off and logged all packages as "attempted to deliver," when in fact the asshole had done nothing.

My theory regarding this was corroborated yesterday when I left work to go to the post office near Pratt - what should have been a 20 minute excursion. There and back - no problem.

But, as it turns out, the postal workers at that particular post office are too dimwitted to tie their shoes, much less manage a post office. The woman in front of me in line told me that she had experienced similar treatment - "I was there, and no one rang my bell. I didn't get a notice."

Nice. For this we pay their salaries - so some asshole can drink Zima and sit in his or her truck, no doubt with it idling the entire time, instead of delivering our mail.

"It must not be here," the idiot behind the counter told me after shuffling around for not ten, not twenty, but FORTY-FIVE MINUTES looking for it. "It's probably still on the truck. They're not supposed to do that, but they do." Before this weak lightbulb had gone off over her empty cranium, she had brought a tube up and said, "Sherry Harper? Oh no, that's not you."

Duh.

So, after having spent TWO hours going to the post office, I was left with nothing. "Complain," the sloth in uniform said. "It's the only way it will change." But I still didn't have my god damn package.

Left seething, I stormed back to work, pissed that I was going to have to weather that death camp of a neighborhood yet again to pick up my package.

However, that changed, and further proved my postal laziness theory, when I arrived home and found my package placed inside my front door. Clearly, they had a skeleton key to deliver the package. Clearly, postal workers in new york suck, as I have mentioned before.

I stormed upstairs and ripped the package open and there he was - the answer to my prayers. My very own kombucha scoby, or symbiotic culture of bacteria and yeasts. Thank JESUS.

For those of you who do not know the wonders of kombucha, it is a fermented tea made by boiling tea with sugar and then adding the kombucha scoby and allowing it to sit and rot for up to 14 days. Doesn't that sound good? Well, it is. Here's more information:

Kombucha contains many different cultures along with several organic acids, active enzymes, amino acids, anti-oxidants, and polyphenols. Kombucha may contain some of the following components depending on the source of the culture:

Acetic acid, which gives Kombucha that 'kick' to its smell and taste; butyric acid, gluconic acid, glucuronic acid, lactic acid, malic acid, oxalic acid, usnic acid, as well as some B-vitamins.
Now, I drink kombucha the way most people drink water, Diet Coke or coffee. I guzzle it day and night, night and day. It is my life force. And since the shit is so expensive, I have been trying to find ways to get around spending up to $5.41 a bottle for that crap. Now I have my answer.

Before Freddy went into his new home, he visited with Nizzles for a little bit, who seemed to acclimate to his company very quickly.

After their visit, I boiled three (3) cups of water, added two (2) organic oolong tea bags and a shitload of turbinado sugar (the exact amount escapes me because I'm about to fall over dead from exhaustion over here). After that shit done boiled, I let it cool overnight (well, i let it cool until three this morning, when I got up because I couldn't sleep) - then I poured it into a jar and placed Freddy on top of it. I sealed the jar with a paper towel and placed it in a dark area of my kitchen to ferment and bubble and do God only knows what.

So, Freddy's here to stay for a while and we hope the result will be pleasant - at least more pleasant than spending about as much a day as my long lost addiction to those American Spirits Lights cigarettes cost.

Freddy enjoys the Carpenters, C-Span and collecting stamps. He excels at badminton and Chinese checkers.

3 comments:

n69n said...

WOW, i am so excited for Freddy!!!

"DO THE FREDDY!"


i had a post office nightmare yesterday too, tying to pick up BOXETTE.

the line was out the DO', only one window open & everyone was pissed...a postal worker kept coming out & saying "its not our fault, only two people showed up for work this morning!" (i picked up that the rest were superbpwl casualties) & warning people with mailboxes that their mail was NOT gonna be sorted that day.

when people complained, which they did LOUDLY & NONSTOP (one woman yelled "i thought this was s'posed to be BLACK HISTORY MONTH!") the postal worker also told people that the only way anything would improve was by making a formal complaint. he was even announcing the phone number.

Marky Mae Brown said...

The guy who was supposed to be manning the package pickup window at my post office was out, too. I didn't even think that it could be a super bowl casualty, but it probably was - as soon as that game was over all the subhuman twats in my neighborhood were ululating with mad abandon and I wanted to run out there and hack at them like a migrant worker chopping down sugarcane.

time murderer said...

does nizzles have superpowers?