Thursday, November 4, 2010

for a good time call

Those of you who hang out in the comments section of this bl*g are probably familiar with my friend J. Quizzle, who has spent some time loitering there himself. And those of you who know J. Quizzle will be very, very jealous to find out that I just spent a long weekend with him in Nashville, Tennessee, where we ate fried chicken, barbecue ribs, country ham, pot roast, potato salad, mashed potatoes, macaroni and cheese, peas, green beans, cole slaw, baked apples, corn pudding, something called "breakfast casserole," biscuits, corn bread, cinnamon rolls, and pecan pie. AT ONE MEAL. That list is just what we ate on Sunday afternoon at Monell's, where we went after church. A charismatic church. WHERE PEOPLE SPEAK IN TONGUES.

Are you starting to understand why J. Quizzle is one of my very favorite people to hang out with?

Other highlights of the weekend included a burlesque show; multiple visits to a full-sized replica of the Parthenon;

drinks at a bar in a greenhouse, a gay bar, and a bar where the band asked between every single song if the audience supports our troops; walks around the Vanderbilt campus, where J. Quizzle teaches, and Lake Radnor;

breakfast at the Pancake Pantry, where the waitress, when asked if the maple syrup was real replied, "Of course! We make it here!"; pulled-pork sandwiches;

being accosted by a toothless woman at Walgreens who shouted to me across the store, "Are you wearing a Snuggie?" and then dragged me to the Snuggie aisle, where she proceeded to demonstrate how her lack of teeth enabled her to touch her tongue to her nose; homemade molasses cookies;

and much, much more.

I suggested awhile ago that you all befriend J. Quizzle, and now I'm going to recommend that you begin by visiting him in Tennessee. Seriously. Head on over to Priceline right now, where Captain Kirk can show you how to buy a cheap plane ticket to Nashville; when you arrive, sign up for the J. Quizzle Whirlwind Tour of the Athens of the South. And when you're trying to decide later how to thank me for this brilliant social and travel advice, consider a zebra-striped Snuggie.


  1. I can think of nothing better than sitting in the Parthenon with a few of those molasses cookies in my mouth. Let's all move to Nashville. This weekend. Get ready, JQuiz.

    As too often happens when I read this blog, I have to google the things I don't Snuggie. Blanket with sleeves?? And you were wearing it in a store? Do you have photos? Do I have this right?

  2. EBiddie, I find it alarming that you didn't include a declaration of your support for our troops in your comment. Do you support our men and women in combat? Can I get a hell yeah?

    You are welcome to the sleeping nook I built for our blog mistress anytime you wish to visit Nashville, as it appears achingly empty without her installed in it. Also, if you're still confused about Snuggies, get a load of the blog mistress the next time she wears her zebra-striped coat. That, apparently, should give you a good idea of what one looks like.

  3. I absolutely support our troops, JQuizz, including Capt. Kirk.

    It's just the apparatus that sent them off that causes me a little difficulty. But I'll bet that you find plenty of similar thinking in Opry Country, Tennessee.

    Our blog mistress may be moving to Nashville. And I may be joining her.

  4. I was pea green with envy when I called our blog mistress to check in on her and give her a report about her Peanut (aka Chester Arthur), only to find her at a burlesque show with my one true love JQuizzle.

    I am so jealous of this trip I don't know exactly how to put it into words.

    I worship at the church of JQ and only wish I could have an audience with it's pope at a burlesque show!!!

  5. The only person in this house who owns a Snuggie is Chester, and his is pink and a couple sizes too small.

  6. Listen, Sally doesn't have opposable thumbs so when she went down to Brooks Drugs I mean Rite Aid on Cherry St. it was hard for her to get her hot little mits on the right size. She says she is sorry!

  7. Mojie, just you wait, I am tentatively planning to take this church on the road, to Vermont, next year (still working out the kinks of bringing the burlesque dancers). The blog mistress says I, being a foliage freak, need to come--that I must come--in the fall.

    It should be noted that in my church we only molest consenting sailors. Which is also our way of supporting the troops.