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I always thought it would be cool to know how to quilt. I mean, people win ribbons for them at state and county fairs! That is pretty boss, in my humble opinion. Also, quilting can be social what with the quiliting bees and all plus it takes mad patience/stiching skills. In my dreams I made this pie quilt and won a blue ribbon at the NY State Fair. Like they say: Dream Big!

The idea of working in a factory appeals to me (minus the shower cap natch). Perhaps it’s my Officer & A Gentleman fantasy of Richard Gere traipsing in, picking me up and carrying me away from the “line” like he did with Deb Winger. Might my prediliction be that when you clock out you’re done? I rather like the notion of punchin’ a timeclock, heading to my local joint, putting a quarter in the Juke, knockin’ back a PBR and havin’ a few laughs.? Modern life is thrilling but extracts a hefty toll - feeling the need to cleverly craft ways to get ahead and be on top of technology all the time is exhausting. I wonder, can one stop the madness and create a factory-esque lifestyle? Even musing on that seems anti factory. Rats.

When someone says ”sweetie pie” this is my mental image. But, usually one conjures some variant of a “sweetheart”. Since, I like to know from whence endearments come, I found out that one of the 1st known instances of “sweetie pie” was in Sinclair Lewis’s 1943 novel Gideon Planish. It may blow your mind when I tell you that it has also been employed as a rather frisky come on, as in, ”Hey loverboy - wanna come taste my sweetie pie?” Alternatively, it’s been known to sarcastically mock someone when they’re being a douchebag, as in, “Hey dial down the Jackhole McSweetie Pie routine willya?”

The second it even begins to warm up from winter - I begin dreaming of ice cream pies. Why just look at this magnificence! … Unless that is actually butter mimicing the beloved frozen treat betwixt cookies. I despise being tricked. At 17, I was at a fancy restuarant and my date told me the butter crock was an “ice cream taster” to “cleanse your palate” in between courses. Rube that I was, I ate a spoonful of butter then swallowed it for fear of being unclassy. A girl never forgets that sort of jive.

5 things I love about this ad are that it’s:    1) Inventive: employing the underused exclamation “My-T-Fine” 2) Descriptive: choosing the word “Luscious” to ignite reader desire  3) Aspirational: housewife in her apron holding up a pie one-handed 4) Ready-to-eat realistic-ness: floating pie piece looks like it’s offered to me! 5) Perfectly aligned with my taste buds: of all the various fillings - selecting lemon & a visual of Lemon Merangue pie.

The KPIs, or Key Performance Indicators, of PIE are: taste, crust consistency, crust-to-filling ratio, aesthetics and filling innovation. The ROI (return on investment) equation of Pie is calculated thusly: The party your tastebuds throw you - caloric concerns / by a euphoric feeling that melts away all tension and leaves you happily humming for hours.

What could be better than Indian curry sensations in a hot pie pocket format?I’m fairly obsessed with Indian food now cuz growing up I never had ethnic food except for Chung King in those double stacked cans - questionable sauce in the small can and noodle/veg mix in the other can. See, I grew up in a rather limited town, culinarily-speaking. Now I live in a verible food mecca and can not only get anything I have a hankerin’ for … but I can order it in!

I’m not usually one for snack cakes, but recently I sampled a deep fried twinkee that was actually quite a delight and super decadant what with it’s oozing vanilla creme insides and all. I present this picture to you of Twinkie the Kid ridin’ his Tonto simply because it’s so gleeful. Navigating our mad world occasionally calls for sillness of this order. It’s impossible to be sad when gazing upon a neckerchief-wearing, ten-gallon hat donning snack cake cowboy - isn’t it?

Get a loada these danglers! You really don’t see a lot of pie-themed jewelry nowadays. I dig words like “youngsters” and “nowadays” because it reminds me of hearing my Grandma & Great Aunts kibbitzing in the kitchen over pie and coffee after dinner. My Great Aunt Francie once sent me a 2 page letter on flowered stationary about a bluebird in her yard in Appleton, WI. Those sure were sweeter times. My baby neice won’t be so lucky - she’ll have only cached tumblr posts and tweets as memories.

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