Friday, September 25, 2009

When Alvin Prescott Ate

[Alvin Prescott]

I recently read that when Elvis had his beloved cook, Mamie, make him peanut butter and nana sandwiches, Mamie used an ENTIRE LOAF OF WHITE BREAD! You people read that shit right. Elvis ate AN ENTIRE LOAF OF WHITE BREAD in one blow. [Note that Elvis ate WHITE BREAD, and not that shitty wheat crap, just like SB. I want Wonder Bread, goddammit! And so did the King.]

SB wishes her ass had a live-in cook (and a doctor on call to write prescriptions for me, but I digress), who I could call up AT ANY HOUR to appease my slightest gastronomical whim.

If he took a notion, Elvis could ring Mamie in her room at midnight and say, "Goddammit Mamie, I'd like a damn red velvet cake from scratch! Wake me up when it's ready." And that bitch would have to haul ass down to the kitchen and bake that damn cake in the middle of the night. Everybody should have a Mamie.

To me, Elvis is like family. I'm allowed to poke a little fun about his eating habits and weight, but goddammit, NOBODY ELSE HAD BETTER! Or it will be like:
What did you say about the King, motherfucker? WHAT DID YOUR DUMB ASS JUST SAY? ELVIS WAS A GOOD BOY, GODDAMMIT.

Growing up, I watched Elvis movies all the time. My favorite was Blue Hawaii. Every time I light a damn tiki torch, even today, I expect Elvis to magically appear, wearing a lei and holding a damn ukulele. It's kind of disappointing when he doesn't show.

My grandma used to say, "Alvin was a good boy. He never hurt anybody but himself, and he liked to make people happy by giving them Cadillacs. Alvin knew what it was to be poor." Grandma Peg was from Mississippi, and she took particular pride in Elvis, who also hailed from Mississippi, except that Grandma was a little hard of hearing and called him Alvin Prescott. We tried correcting her, but grandma was a tad stubborn and that shit didn't fly.

NOTE: Grandma also thought my REALLY OBESE friend, Tina was named Tiny. She really fumed about that shit and said, "Her parents had some nerve naming that girl Tiny!"


May said...

I'm sure DTG will comment on this about how his dream in life is to have a live-in cook who will put together a buffet for him and his friends whenever he feels like it. Generally late at night. I can't tell you how many times I have heard this. I too would like a late night buffet, so I don't blame him (or Alvin for that matter). I would like raisin toast, banana pudding, walnut brownies, and spagetti casserole, please.

Sarcastic Bastard said...



gingermagnolia said...

If I had a Mamie, she's make me fried okra and chocolate mousse. Nom nom nom.

Sarcastic Bastard said...

Sounds good to me, my darling.


Glimmer said...

This is my kind of post. Southern junk food. I cannot get my Yankee husband and son to try a P-B-nana sammich. Maybe the key would be to fry one up in butter and slather with mayo. Duke's of course, I do NOT use anything else and do not try to sell me WHIPS, I will fly into an uncharacteristic rage. Harris Teeter should sell it, if not, the manager is not doing his-her job.

I keep saying WHAT is the difference between banana (sweet) and the All Fruit that goes on the PBJ's in our house (junk food is a treat, not a way of life for us -- I know I know -- but that is why I am so obsessive read insane on the issue).

Before I met the Iowan, of course, he was putting plastic "candy" like chopped up Twizzlers on his PBJs so he needed slapping into food rehab right away and it has been a terrible amount of work. I'm kidding about putting Twizzlers on sandwiches. I think.

But I thought I'd done better by the boy, who is 50 percent southern and was dragged to AL for weeks every year in the summer. I have to blame our neighbor, the home daycare provider, who was from, well, sorry but I must speak the truth, Ohio. She had never even heard of a Goo Goo Cluster. Or White Lily flour. Or Sister Schubert rolls. Or huge vats of vegetable soup with a lovely thick base provided by okra. And the best pickles in the world, Wickles. Most of which I had to haul up from Alabama twice a year to deploy in the food re-education camps I ran.

But then, thank gawd, the Teeter saved me.

Sarcastic Bastard said...

SB is honored to have you here. I wish we had a damn Teeter. Actually, Piggly Wiggly is my favorite. Instead, we have the damn Kroger.