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Stupid mother schuckers

A week full of corn, Paddy Coyne's, Cans, and Masa

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For all of you out there who are trying to figure out how to get to the center of my heart, I’ll give you one way to do so in the summertime.

Just give me corn on the cob.

Corn, yellow as my hair, is such a quintessential requirement for getting me through hot, sweaty days.

Each time I drop into the grocery store, I pick up three pieces, and when I eat it I’m reminded of such fun things.

When I was a tiny little Carmen, I used to hate the cob, and I’d have my mother shave it off with a knife. As a spoiled rotten only child, I didn’t like to get the corn stuck between my teeth, and I’d have nothing to do with the cob.

Nowadays, I can’t wait to sink into the burst of natural flavor that explodes on impact along with proper doses of I Can’t Believe It’s Not Budder (note Fabio accent).

In college, my friends used to throw the hugest, best barbecues ever. So many people would be there that it would take a troupe sitting around in lawn chairs all jointly shucking to get the job done.

I always laugh when I eat corn because during that big barbecue time, I used to call all of those friends Stupid Mother Schuckers.

But in the privacy of my own home, I still feel free when I get a dose of this seasonal delight.

I listen to good rock and roll music, which reminds me of good times, and I raise the unbuttered piece of corn in the air.

Mother Nature dun good with that one.

Not so corny Friday

After a hellacious week with relentless work demands, I needed some brief solitude followed by unadulterated good times.

I went home, took my own sweet time getting ready and beautiful, and took the bus back downtown.

I started at Paddy Coyne’s and got what I consider to be one of Tacoma’s best grilled cheese sandwiches and had a drink courtesy of the handsome bartenders who work there. I love that place.

After, I met up with Natasha at the public grand opening of Cans. I suppose that the band they had playing there, the Boss Martians, was awesome, but we ran into the luminous Sir Steve and had to take on the pool room downstairs, that just opened that night. We were very proud to be some of Can’s first jukebox heroes.

Husks in the teeth Saturday

On Saturday I ate corn and started the evening at Matador to admire all of the pretty people.

En route to Puget Sound Pizza, I ran into Cheryl, Alan and some of their fantastic Middle Floor Merchants. If you haven’t been to Sanford and Sons, you’re a sucker, and you’re no friend of mine.

I coerced them into joining me at PSP, and oh what fun did we have.

I had no idea that those merchants have such wonderful voices, which they added to Colin’s karaoke. Their version of “Reunited” was SO hot. I was so inspired that I gave everyone there my version of “Son of a Preacher Man.” I guess Catholic school was worth something.

After all of that, I ran up to Doyle’s for round two and met up with First Lady Olivia and my tiny K to the K. We always have such hearty laughs, which continued at an after-hours party. Livs went to the convenience store and surprised us all with The Simpsons cookies. Pics of Bart and Homer are now on my MySpace. K to the K and I couldn’t stop giggling about those damn cookies.

Sunset Sunday

Sunday I headed to Masa’s first Songwriters at Sunset concert series. Seriously, all of you Tacomans missed out if you weren’t there. Flow Motion was the first band to play in the series, and they were incredible.

The weather was perfect, the deck was hoppin’, and the music was to die for, especially since Flow Motion is a band that rarely plays in Tacoma.

I was surrounded by fun people, including Sean P. Quinn, First Lady Livs, Tasso, Clark W. Griswald, Tank, Patty, and, of course, Xitco Xpress.

That concert series is the perfect way to end my typical cornball weekend.

I’m Carmen, your new chameleon.  Drop me your favorite parties a here.

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