Get slatternly for Christmas!
If you’re like me — not in the dipsomaniacal sense, but when it comes to holiday shopping, I mean — the annual ordeal of trolling overheated, overcrowded, over-illuminated shopping malls in an endless quest for that perfect gift for your nearest and dearest long ago lost its appeal. Especially since the authorities got all cranked up about people, and by that I mean me, driving after a cocktail or two.
So why not embrace the Slattern’s holiday strategy and click on over to Zazzle for slattern-themed gifts sure to please even the grouchiest, grinchiest folks on your gift list? Think about it! How much would your mother-in-law love a “Martha Stewart makes my ass ache” apron? Wouldn’t your Type A sister love sipping the morning jolt from a Kitchen Slattern mug or riding with pride courtesy of her Slattern bumpersticker? I thought so.
So save yourself a trip to hell and scoot on over to the Slattern gift shop. And have another Sazerac, why don’t you?
Tuesday Satire: Confessions on the Cronk
Why would you confess when you haven’t done anything wrong — or even interesting?
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Once again, my funny friends at The Cronk of Higher Education have seen fit to share my off-kilter take on university life, this time in a short satirical article, “Online Confessions Fuel Fraternity Alumni Discontent.” There’s lots of quality satire and snark over there, so take a peek, why don’t you?
Happy Thanksgiving: Embrace the can
In these, the final precious moments of calm before the storm, I am taking on the ultimate Thanksgiving taboo. And I’m not talking about what happened in the powder room last year after Uncle Fred found the cooking sherry and Vaseline even after I hid them behind the sofa, grotesquely fascinating though that story most certainly is. In this case, the love that dare not speak its name involves your guests and cranberry sauce.
Let’s all just come clean, shall we? Of course we should prefer homemade cranberry sauce, and every year I make some interesting version of it – with apricots and toasted almonds, orange marmalade and Grand Marnier, or some such – which arrives at the table looking festive and appetizing, then sits right there for the entire meal. Eventually some sympathetic soul, usually me, makes a token gesture and takes a spoonful, but let’s be honest, ninety-five…
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Rob Ford: Did I call it or WHAT?
Not to toot my own horn, but I absolutely nailed my Rob Ford prediction a few days ago. Quarterbacks everywhere, be afraid, be very very afraid.
And you might want to lock up your cats while you’re at it.
Le réfrigerateur cometh.
Kitchen Slattern 
Punchnel’s also likes to swear
Dec 9
Posted by WSW
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The fine and clever folks over at Punchnel’s have seen fit to post a meditative little essay of mine entitled, I Like to Swear on their excellent site. Please do drop in and have a look. There’s lots of great stuff over there, including, but not limited to, rants about the Grateful Dead, Con Chapman’s Releasing Your Inner Big Foot, fiction, poetry and reviews. The site is chockablock with great reading material. And really, wouldn’t you rather be teasing your brain with lots of top drawer writing than staring at spreadsheets, slumping disconsolately at your desk or pretending to enjoy playing Barbies with your kids?
My piece even includes an explicit language warning and the teaser, “W.S. Winslow works blue.” So in addition to being amused and perhaps a bit scandalized — and really who doesn’t enjoy the illicit frisson of a good scandalizing, especially on a Monday morning? — you can share in the satisfaction of my little exercise in pushing the limits of the First Amendment.
Post a clever comment, reblog, send it viral. Have at it ferchrissakes.
Punchnels: I Like to Swear
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Tags: Barbie, clever folks, First Amendment, Grateful Dead, Kitchen Slattern, Profanity, Punchnel, Punchnel's, Reading, Slattern, Swear