There is not enough downtown space to waste on poor restaurants.

Gentle Readers,

If you are going to open up a bahbeque restaurant in the south and be so presumptuous as to give it a Southern name like "The Cotton Club," you better be ready to back it up with some dang good que. The basic rules for said good que are as follows:

1. The pork must be cooked on-site. It shouldn't have to be said, but there you go.

2. The cooked-on-site pork should be able to stand alone as excellent que. I will almost certainly put sauce on it, but it should be because I want to not because I have to.

3. A good meat to bun ratio is key and one should always err on the side of too much meat.

I am always up for trying a new restaurant in my beloved Classic City, especially when it offers good Southahn Fare. Unfortunately, despite a promising name, menu, and location, The Cotton Club disappointed. There was no smoked pork essence wafting in the air (which may account for the lack of flavor in the barbeque), I'm pretty sure the sauce was some oily variation of ketchup, and the taste of said sauce and pork didn't actually matter because all I really got was mouthful after mouthful of bun. Honestly, I was so distracted with wondering what Yankee opened this affront to Southern cuisine that I forgot to order Tea!!!

On the bright side, Col. Brandon is taking me to the North Georgia State Fair tonight where I am certain to find some piece of deep fried glory to put my taste buds back in a Southahn State of mind! More on that latah...

Fondest Regards,

The Lady

Sorry for the lack of posting lately. Life has just been pretty dull of late. Not in a bad way, I just don't have entertaining stories to tell. My friend K- posted about her family adventure in trying to open a coconut. S- could tell you about adventures in sewing with rick-rack. I have been sitting at home re-watching both seasons of _Sports Night_, the greatest show on television. I am not about to talk football right now. I suppose I can tell you about my attempt to give blood the other day...

I have O-, so the Red Cross calls me a lot and I am pretty passionate about the importance of donating. So, my friend B- and I went to a blood drive the other day pretty pumped about giving. Get it? Pumped?...Aaaanyway, B- got through the Q&A session, gave her blood and was sitting at the cookie table before they had even figured out that I'm not eligible to give for 12 months because I might have malaria from being in the Philippines. Sweet. They, of course, figured this out after pricking TWO fingers to get a good hemocrit result. Lesson learned. From now on I will discuss my jet-setting right off the bat. Soooo...since I can't give blood, I figured I'd give you the reasons you should:

10. The Red Cross people are really nice and sometimes they'll flirt with you a little. Especially if you are O-. They really think O-s are hot.

9. You always wanted a way to lose weight will sitting on your butt.

8. Neon is so hot right now which means the bandage (which you may be able to color coordinate to your outfit) is this season's must-have accessory.

7. Said bandage will get you attention for the rest of the day. "What's that bandage for?" "Oh, nothing. I just gave blood." "Wow. You are cool.".

6. Vampires. I have to believe that the most likely place for me to meet a Cullen is a blood drive.

5. Free cookies and fruit punch. 'Nuf said.

4. It gives you a good excuse to feel faint and swoon a bit. Swooning seems like a very leisahly thing to do.

3. You are instructed to eat well for the rest of the day. As if I needed to be told to eat well, but sometimes it's nice to have an excuse to pig out. Plus you've lost all that weight, so you're good.

2. You're also instructed to take it easy and not do too much physical activity for the rest of the day. Again, like I need a reason to skip the gym, but I'll take it.

1. You can save 3 lives.

I'm pretty bummed that I won't be able to give until next summer, but I hope some of you readers will step up in my absence. Giving blood is cool.

Fondest regards,

The Lady

A girl can dream...

Today The Kid said, "When I get married my husband's going to bring me presents and I'm going to dress like a princess every day." Maybe we've been spending too much time around each other...

Fondest regards,

The Lady

God is a Bulldog. ~Lewis Grizzard

It's upon us folks. We've counted down the days, spent sleepless nights researching and planning, and we've purchased the outfits. That's right. It all comes down to this...

FOOTBALL SEASON!!!

If summer insists upon turning into fall and ushering us into the season of death, decay, and basketball that is winter, there's really only one way to do it and that is by filling every Saturday with NCAA football. Nay, SEC football. There are people out there (even among the few readers of this blog but I don't want to single out said aunt and sister) that have, shall we say, less than stellar taste in regards to which team to root for and which colors to wear*; however, I think we can all agree that the SEC knows how football is done. Why? Glad you asked:

1. It's in The South. That means tailgates run by Ladies of Leisure. None of the "let's just grill a brat" crap you find up north. No, we are talking about 12 hours of noshing on enough food to feed a small country while we sit around watching football.

2. The clothes. No t-shirts and jeans here (well, except the cut-off ones in Florida, but we're not counting those). Red and Black ensembles and accessories for the ladies. Seersucker and bowties for the men who aren't in Silver Britches. Everyone dressed to the nines and nobody wearing the same thing twice.

3. The football. It's just better.

It may well be a rough season (goodness knows it's no fun losing to the evil genius), but even if we lose every game, I will wake up every Saturday morning to the sound of "Glory, Glory" blaring from someone's tailgate and pray the prayer that Lewis Grizzard taught us to pray saying, "Thank you Lord for three things: Fried chicken, potato salad, and the privilege of being a Bulldog, and, Dear Lord, bless all those not as fortunate as I."**

Fondest regards,

The Lady

*Before my first football game, a true Lady of Leisure approached me and said, "Sugah, Southahn ladies do not weyah ahrange or gold," and I've kept those wise words close to my heart ever since.

**http://theantiorangepage.com/pages/20