Wednesday, February 25, 2015

Food Addiction: The Struggle Is Real

Thinking about food is exhausting.  Thinking about food is usually an unproductive, mentally taxing, and stress inducing.  By thinking about food all the time, it's really rather likely that we are indeed propelling ourselves towards the foods we are trying to banish or avoid.


For the majority of us, we wish that we could adopt the "food is fuel" mentality, eat healthy and clean as part of a never-say-diet mentality, and spout the "it's not a diet, it's a lifestyle change". It's a little depressing to know that food addiction is not a recognized addiction (binge eating disorder is the closest we have come), and that most people that AREN'T addicted to food like to talk about willpower and "just making a choice" like it's that easy.

If it was that easy...

We would all be making positive food choices on the daily.  The world would possibly reverse on it axis.  The fast food industry would go out of business.  Pepsi and Coca-cola would close it's doors.  Cheetos would never again be ingested by the thousands ( I want those little orange colored vehicles of deliciousness).

It's just not that easy.

And I live with one of those people, who while she loves me back and forth and around the world, she cannot even begin to wrap her precious mind around the fact that I wake up in the middle of night thinking about food...and often tiptoe into the kitchen to find something to nibble on before returning to slumber.  She can't understand actually leaving the house to go to the grocery store to something to eat when we have food already in the house.  She can't understand why when I wake up, I am already thinking about what I am making for dinner.

She can't understand because she is not addicted to food.

And I say all of this not to imply that I have no hope, but I have begun to accept the fact that my quest for concurring my food addiction IS hopeless.  And I think that is the case for many of us. Unless by some "I-Just-Won-the-475milliondollarPowerball" stroke of luck I wake up one day and have fallen madly in love with fruits, veggies, and water, EVERYDAY will be a day that I have to consciously battle my food addiction.

And let's be real.

It could be worse.

I am moderately cute at times.  I know how to paint my toenails better than most toenail painting professionals.  I am moderately funny.  Okay...exceeeeedingly funny and moderately humble. And people like me.  Well.  Most people.  I am a talented kickball kicker.  An impressive country line dancer.  And I am in love and loved in return.

It's just bastard food that keeps me on the verge of insane.

And that's just the truth of it.

It doesn't really make me less of a human.  It's just one of the things that makes me human.

However annoying that may be.  (the food addiction, not me as a human...just to be clear).

All of this stemmed from an article I read about a new study released from Yale.  It comes with a little "survey" you can take to find out if you are addicted to food.  Um...needless to say I didn't need to TAKE the survey, but I did read through it.  Many of these seem like a given.  However I bet if I gave the survey to Heather, they wouldn't be as much as a given.  In fact, some of them might actually confuse her due to her lack of being almost completely opposite of me in our relationship with food.  But take a look below.

If you would like to read the full article, you can find it here.

Monday, February 23, 2015

Food Prep And Nearly 3 Months Without Weighing

Well, a couple of things to touch base on.

First, as you may recall, I gave up weighing myself for 2015.  It's been a weird little experiment.  There are some days when I wish I could get on, just to see where I am at...but most days...I don't really care about not being able to weigh.  It has been "different" not being able to use the scale to judge my successes or failures.  It's kinda hard to put into words, and if you are blogger that can't put thoughts into words, well you might as well just hang up your blogger hat and start doing youtube videos.

I won't ever get to that point.

So, let's change the subject to...


 Please note that the two pictures above are not MY food nor my kitchen.  We don't have granite okay? I just wanted to give you a great example of food prep.  The pictures below are mine.  You are welcome.

Food prepping is serious business kids.  And while I have done the "Amy Workman" version of food prepping since I was banded (aka "the half ass approached") with my soups and other foods I make, I haven't prepped a whole week of foods for both me and the old lady (she is NEARLY 38 okay), making sure each dish contained good clean items, late on a Sunday evening.  Whilstever (let's make that a real word shall we), even though my non-scale year is progressing just nicely and all of my work pants still fit...I have perhaps noticed my jeans getting a smidge tighter so I decided it was time to pull back the reigns on the junk food wagon and make a plan.

I do so much better with a plan.

So I went to Sam's and bought $15 worth of Organic chicken breast.  I was going to just by the Sam's brand, but the breasts were the size of my head and all I could see where the chest heavy chickens from Food Inc that had been pumped so full of steroids and growth hormones that they couldn't even walk...


that's depressing....

That I decided to get the organic for a few extra bucks.

So I grilled all 8 of those bad boys up last night and made some quinoa and diced sweet potatoes.  And made four meals with those ingredients (I still have 4 of the grilled chicken breast left over).  That lunch as anywhere from 400-450 calories and nearly 37 grams of protein.'s kind of boring.  Basically because it's a) not covered in cheese, b) there is no bread involved and c) doesn't come with a side of ice cream.

See the joy in my face:

mmm....I can feel my jeans loosening up already.

I have also of course, been drinking my water.

Water is stupid.

In addition to my chicken dish, I made a batch of my Creamy Chicken Divan Soup....because that soup is my jam.  You can find my recipe for that here. We will alternate said meals for our lunches.  For breakfast, on days we lift, we will have a protein shake.  I use my immersion blender and put in a cup of frozen fruit. This is my favorite protein powder.  I like Creamy Vanilla because it goes well with all my fruit, but it comes in all kinds of flavors.  It is also zero carbs....if you care about such things.
When you are looking for a protein powder, want a Whey protein isolate.  K?

On days we don't work out, Heather will probably eat her steel cut oatmeal with two eggs over medium on stop.  Uh. Barf.  Today I had 2 pieces of bacon and some Grape-Nuts.  I like me some breakfast meat.

For din din, I will cook whatever and just monitor portions.  My meals aren't usually my problem areas.  The band still keeps me from eating TONS of food, although with little restriction, I can still eat a good deal.  But my problem is when I come to work without bringing a lunch...that means I am probably going to go out to eat.

And mama loves her original chicken sammie from Burger King, no lettuce, extra mayo.  Seriously.  I want that warm white fat cream oozing out the sides.

See.  Problems.

And then my snacking at work.  I am a grazer.  And I like to graze on junk.

So to be prepared for such grazing I portioned out a nut mixture and a string cheese.


wooooo....big exhale....

I am going to TRY and not drink at home.  Like...the good kind of drinking.  The kind that pairs oh so nicely with four Benadryls.  ALCOHOL!  I've kinda got into a sad habit of drinking almost every night.  Not in EXCESS, but 2 beers...or a bottle of wine.  SO, needless to say, those are easy calories to cut when trying to ensure your sexy jeans fit.  I will allow myself beverages outside of the at kickball or Tough Mudders.  And this isn't forever dudes...Just for a little while.

This weekend we actually went out AFTER the sunset.  We are in bed by 8:30pm kind of girls.  Ya know?  But our friends Bethany and Todd invited us to a "cowboy bar".  I use that term loosely as there were only about 4 actual cowboys and possible 500 chodes (urban dictionary it if you must...but it's almost synonymous with douchebag).  We had a great time though and nearly closed that joint down!  I was bootscooting booging, cha cha sliding, tush pushing, and wopping the hell out of some dancing.  The next day my hammies and traps and booty were sore.  It was sweet.  However, we were also very tired. This picture is a little grainy bc I had to enhance the color, but I think you can get the jest of how precious we are.  My hair was not in a side braid upon arriving at the bar, but this was the first hair transition due to the fact that I sweat like a wildebeest in heat when I even dance just for a few minutes. By the time we got home all of my makeup had melted and my hair was piled on top of my head.

The next morning I woke up to find a 5-way spoon happening in our bed.  But not with other humans..just us and 3 dogs.  The puppies were on either side of Heather, and I was spooning Bear (black and white pictured here), and Bubba our white bully was on the other side of me.
And because of our new Fitbits, we had to go out into the sunshine to make sure we got our 10,000 steps for the day.  OOH, speaking of that.  With all my country line dancing on Saturday night, I went to bed with at least 22,000 for Saturday and had nearly 2,000 by 1am.  Haha.

I will leave you with a picture of the pups from our run on Saturday morning.  They are just so cute.

Happy Monday y'all.

Broccoli Quinoa Sweet Tater Hash

Listen, before we get too far into this post I just want to let you know that I cannot spell broccoli.  I mean...obviously I just spelled (or spelt, if you will) it right there, but that's because I had to Google it to make sure.  Sometimes I subtract a C, or add an shouldn't be so tricky to spell a damn vegetable.

I wanted to share with you one of my favorite meatless meals or side dishes.  I make some version of this almost weekly.  I found the original recipe via a Takepart website at least a year ago, and since then, I have made a few minor tweaks to make it rather fantastic and yet...still healthy. So let us begin with the players shall we?

The three stars here are the broccolli (see what I did there...extra L), the sweet potato, and the quinoa.  If you have never had quinoa, now is probably the time to jump on the bandwagon before it is overfarmed and ruins the country from which is comes (don't research it...let's just pretend we know nothing).   Quinoa is basically the seed of a grain like crop and it is super high in fiber, protein, and magnesium.  It is also gluten free.  It doesn't really have a lot of flavor, although I know some people say it is a little "nutty".  It comes in at least three colors, but I prefer the red because it makes a pretty color medley on your plate when you add the green and the orange.  You boil 1 cup of quino with 2 cups water, but to add a little more flavor, I boil mine in chicken broth or homemade chicken stock.

Then there is the brocolli (mmhmm...the possibilities on how to misspell brockoli are endless).  Up until 3ish years ago, I had never had broccoli and didn't think I ever would.  I STILL do not like it raw, and like to steam mine for...oh...8-10 minutes. But however you like your broccoli, it will be find with this recipe.  The origianl recipe actually calls for it raw.  Whatever makes you happy.

And then there are the sweet taters.  Now, I am from the Midwest, so while there was, on occasion, sweet potato pie served instead of delicious pumpkin, and every once in awhile I would stumble upon a sweet potato casserole somewhere other than my house...sweet potatoes were never part of my diet either.  Well, after I found this recipe, I saute them almost weekly.  They are a wonderful stand alone side. Just make sure when you are dicing them up, you try to keep your "cubes" similar in size, that way they cook evenly.  And one sweet potato goes a long way.  I dice mine up, throw it in a nonstick skillet with some EVOO and salt and pepper and saute over a medium low heat for about 5-7 minutes.  Then, I throw in half a diced onion, minced or diced garlic, a generous shake of the red pepper flake container, and cover, stirring often, until they are tender enough for your liking.  Just don't let them get too soft for this recipe because when you stir everything together, they can turn into mashed sweet taters.

True story.

SO basically you cook the three components, seasoning as you wish with what you wish (dill is a nice addition to the sweet potatoes), and then mix everything together and whalah...dinner is ready.  Heather likes to put hot sauce or pepper sauce on top of hers.  If you like things a little more spicy.

Broccoli Quinoa Sweet Tater Hash

  • 1 medium sized sweet potato, peeled, diced
  • 1/2 sweet or yellow onion, diced
  • 1-2 tablespoons diced garlic
  • salt, pepper, and red pepper flakes to your liking
  • 1-2 heads of steamed broccoli, chopped
  • 1 cup uncooked quiona, cook according to the directions on container
  • 2 cups water or chicken broth for boiling quinoa
This makes pretty generous amount of food.  I would dare to say 6-8 servings (if we are talking side dish instead of your main meal).

Hope you enjoy!  It can look very fancy but it's pretty simple!


Tuesday, February 17, 2015

Wedding Dresses And Lace Up Corsets

While many of us connect on Facebook, I realize there may be those of you who like to silently observe my life happenings (those I make up and those that are based loosely on facts) from afar and have yet to friend request me for fear of having to type "You don't know me but I am not a stalker" on a PM via Facebook to get me to accept your friend request.  First, do not worry.  I prefer the term "admirer" over "stalker" and I would really only grow concerned  if you said, "Don't worry, I am not a stalker but I do sort through the trash container outside of your house and collect items to make a life-sized replica of you in my basement."  I mean...that might be a bit much.

Because let's be honest.  A life-sized trashmeal replica of Amy should never be kept in the basement.

But I digress.

Back to the original point I was trying to make.

I just wanted to keep ALL of you in the loop.

As some of you may recall, on May 22, 2013 Heather proposed to me.  It was precious.  We have been in a holding pattern though since then, as we were waiting for "gay marriage" (in quotation marks because really it's just MARRIAGE for all right-minded consenting, tax paying adults) to become legal in Florida.  Heather had long insisted it has to be legal in the state we live in otherwise we are just playing make-believe and Heather does not enjoy playing make-believe.  Trust me.  Sometimes I try to get her to wear her "military panties", which are really little green silky shorts she had to wear in the Marines.  I can't tell you how many times I have implored her to put them on so we could play "Bootcamp".  I mean...she would be the angry drill instructor in her military panties and I would be the bad bad new bootcampie person.  But NOOOOO.

I would go on.  But my father is probably reading this

So, on January 6th, it became legal.  We had to pick a date.  Now down here in Pensacola, Florida, it's basically hotter than Satan's fannypack 10 months out of the year.  So I wanted maybe a November or December wedding.  But those dates were booked for the venue we wanted so we are getting married on 1.16.16.

Book your tickets now dudes.

But yesterday was the big wedding dress shopping extravaganza!

While I will not reveal the dress I believe to be "the one"...I will show you some contenders.

But before I get to that...have you ever wore a corset?  Seriously?  I have not. But holy nuts...they can do amazing things.

I didn't know exactly what style of dress I wanted but I was 99% sure I didn't want strapless because I was afraid of boob/armpit "spillage and boob/armpit stretch mark showing.  And I didn't want a big ballgown ala Cinderella and I didn't want a mermaid (I's painful to type that) or trumpet style.  I was envisioning something flowy.  Something quirky.  Sometime delicate.  Delicate.  Like me.

It turns out with my budget, I am kinda limited to the sales rack.  But I ain't above that.  And there were some good dresses on the sales rack.

This was a contender.  I likey the butt.  And Heather wants to see my back.
 It's a little tight on the hips.  Just like pretty much all of them.  So that's why it's bunching.  That would be fixed of course. And YES.  I realize this is a strapless trumpet style.
This next one I really loved because of the tank top, the lace, and the keyhole back.  But it had a weird seam that cut my hips wrong. You can see it better from the back shot.

And I also really liked this one...

But the one I really loved I will not be showing.  It IS strapless.  It IS a corset inside.  It makes my waist and butt look banging and it has a ton of ruffles.  Who would have thought?  Oh, it's also double my damn budget of what I wanted to spend.  But I will only be a bride once right?  Or at least I will only be Heather's bride once right?  Juuuust kidding.  My love is forever.  And if not, I am moving to Maine with all of my fur children, never dating again, and just going to entertain lonely fishermen and women when I have skin hunger.

It's always good to have a back up plan.

We ended up going to a place called the Bridal Suite.  And this wonderful pixie like woman named Maureen took care of me.  She made me feel pretty, she worked with my budget, and she was super sweet.  We were SUPPOSED to go to David's Bridal but we walked out.  Seriously.  Let's not relive that moment and spoil this beautiful one okay?

So I will try not to bore you over the next 10 months with wedding deets...but I do want to keep you updated.

How else will you make my wedding dress of my used Q-tips and discarded cottonballs that you find in my trash?


Wednesday, February 11, 2015

Deadlifts Got Me Like Whoa

I am not one to usually use social media to cry about my ailments...possibly because one of my biggest pet peeves are attention seeking hypochondriacs that post EVERY little cough or sneeze or ache and pain on Faceook...deep breath...but I figured since it has been 10 days since my injury and I really wanted to use the term "dickies" in a blog post, that I could make an exception to the rule.  Monday is leg day in our house, and Heather started joining me for my workouts at the gym at the beginning of January so she could "lift heavy" like me for 6 weeks (she likes to do cardio and interval training with things like burpees when she works on my time).  Well last Monday we were at the gym and I decided we would do heavy deadlifts.  Just in case you don't know what a deadlift is, one version is pictured above.  It's great for your ass, your hammies, your lower back, and even your traps.  There are many versions of deadlifts...stiff leg, straight leg, Romanian, Canadian (I made that one up), and you can do them with dumbbells, barbells, or on Smith Machines.  Since we workout at Planet Fitness and they want to discourage those acting like lunks, if you want to go heavy, you are going to have to use a Smith Machine.
 Well, I loaded that sucker up and started knocking them out, all the while trying to show my lady love what a she-beast I was.  Everything was fine...until the next day.  My lower back, really the area below my waist line to my chocolate starfish, was hurting.  Sharp, constant pain.  Very unpleasant.  I did however workout on Wednesday and Thursday, but have not lifted since then.  I have iced.  I have heated.  I have soaked and stretched.  That sucker is just angry.  I may have to sit out of kickball tonight. know the pain is real because I let Heather apply BioFreeze.  Now, BioFreeze does not smell AS BAD as Bengay, but it's real close dude.  And it gives me flashbacks to my childhood when I would get sick and my mother would rub my chest and neck with Vicks Vapor rub.  It was terrible.  But to make it worse, she would then make me wear...

A DICKIE!  Do you remember these terrible fashion monstrosities?  As I look back, my mother must have owned thousands.  And I knew even then that a mock mock turtleneck sheathe was a bad idea. But Marge would make me wear it.  That damn Vicks.  I am pretty sure it did nothing...but scar me on the inside for life.
So there you have it.  I hate to go to the doctor for something that may heal on it's own. But not lifting is killing me smalls.  So we will see.  I guess if it's not better by Monday I will see what can be done.

I can feel my biceps getting smaller as I type.


Disc Golf: A Trumped Up Drinking Sport

I honestly don't know what I am doing in this picture.  I am either preparing to rub Beau's hipbone, or I'm doing the locomotion.  I believe we were supposed to be some rendition of that famous Beatles picture...but if that's the case...this shit is a disaster.

Usually we disc golf with just a few other people, but on Sunday we decided to play with 1.4 million of our closest friends.  Todd (toddrick) and Bethany (PowPow) are on the left, followed by Heather of course and her coworker Niki and her manfriend Zac, then good old Beau, me, Eli, Rachel, and her husband Jonathan (Jon Jon).  It was a beautiful Florida panhandle Sunday, as evidence by my shorts and flip flops.

Disc golf takes some skill, and really...only Heather possesses it.  The discs are just like golf clubs...they have different weights, they do different things, they fly different ways...but that's only if you know how to throw them to begin for the majority of us, we just toss those suckers in the wind and hope some tiny disc golf cherub in the sky guides it towards the basket.

We play teams, so that pretty much means that Heather, and whomever is on her team, is destined to win.  But my team DID give them a run for their money...but then 2 out of 3 of us got slightly drunk and didn't know our ass from a hole in the ground.

Good times.

Good times.

This is one of my boyfriends...Eli.
He is actually Rachel's 4 year old, but we have a love-hate relationship, minus the hate.  But I do whisper things to him from time to when he is punching me in my ass I whisper "keep on little man...because when I punch you in YOUR ain't gonna like it."

That usually just makes him giggle more.  He doubts my power.  Sometimes I like to pick him up by his head...which is totally safe because I saw it in a movie.  Rachel doesn't like it though.  So I do it more just for good measure.

I know what you are thinking.  I should have children because clearly I would make a wonderful parent.

Well, Heather and I had a brief conversation about birthing humans and we decided that someday we will have a boat instead.

The end.  And besides...we are selfish.  I like shoes, races, Target underwear, and beer. more thing.  It should be known that children are drawn to me.  Even if I give them dirty looks and try to avoid eye contact.  I was eating at Moe's yesterday (HEY, WELCOME TO MOE's....I realize that only makes sense to those of you who have dined at Moe' for the rest of you, that's what they yell when you come in the door..HEY WELCOME TO MOE'S!...) but I was eating solo at Moe's yesterday and this boy child runs over in front of my table and just stares at me.  For minutes on minutes while his dad was distracted.  So then they go to leave and I think I am safe because I had begun to worry he was trying to suck my soul out of my orbital sockets...but he broke away from his dad and came back...just to stare at me.

Don't believe me?

Well what do you think about this?
yeah.  The defense rests your honor.

Tuesday, February 10, 2015

15k Recap: Hot Ham Wallets, Shots, and Disapointment

no one is paying attention to me at the finish line.  I didn't let it stop me.
I apologize for the delay in posting the results from our 15k race on Saturday.  I know that many of you probably lost sleep and even possibly called in to work on Monday because you were waiting on pins and needles to find out if I beat my time from last year.  It is with great sadness that I tell you that...I am now in fact in worse shape than one year ago.  OKAY.  FINE.  I don't know if that is totally true, but last years time was 1:33 (one hour, thirty three minutes), and this years time was 1:45.  Droopy balls that is not good.  But, in my defense, I did have to stop at the porta-potty at mile 6 and there were just 4 people in front of me...three of them I thought it would go really quick but I swear, hand to 7pound toddler Jesus, that these men all took poops in that porta-potty and thus...I lost at least 5 minutes of precious time.  Oh well.  Such is life.  

Heather totally killed it and just gets better with a fine lesbian wine.

Our mean mug
 And yes.  Rachel and I found our Monte Cristos and ate those little suckers up.  It was delicious...and oh so wrong that it had to be right.
ham wallets with a side of fries
And it's a damn good thing we did finally eat, because earlier, when we were standing in the beer line...I looked down and saw this little guy laying on the pavement.
 And I got excited because at first I thought it was a potato, then I thought maybe someone dropped their fresh baguette and that I could pick it up and eat it...but was just a rock.  I went to get Rachel's attention to tell her how funny and starving I was and she was already staring at the potential food source thinking the same thing I was!  So, I picked up that little dinner roll shaped rock and now it's on display in my living room.
Watching Heather blabber to a friend...while I am waiting for a couple's post race picture.

Well then Higgie (blue shirt), decided to buy us shots.  And I am not a grown up shot taker.  Let's take a look.
 Yeah.  I loves shots.
 Just kidding.  Let me hold my nose.
 Higgie and Rachel already consumed theirs....
I put all of  mine in my mouth, but it was too much liquid.  I have a band for I spit it all back in my cup...and on myself.
Stop laughing at me.  Heather was telling me that I had to drink my spit shot.

So I did.  Me no likey.
Well that pretty much sums it up. Besides the fact that I am apparently regressing in my running, it was a wonderful day.

Happy Tuesday friendsters!

Friday, February 6, 2015

Running for Deep Fried Meat

Tomorrow we will run the Pensacola Double Bridge Run (15k).  As Pensacola is a coastal town, we have two bridges that lead to Pensacola Beach, and thus...the name of the run may lack a bit of creativity but does pretty much sum the run up in a nutshell.  SO, we start in Pensacola, traverse two bridges with a little land thrown in between, and end up, 9.3 miles later, at Pensacola Beach.  This is our third year running this particular race, and mama really wants to beat her time from last year...which as one hour and 33 minutes.  BUT, I may have been on performance enhancing drugs last year because I ran like THE WIND! first mile was 9'20" pace.  And my slowest mile as a 10'43".  For these stubby little legs, that's like hurricane strength wind.
And I shaved 20 minutes off my time from the previous it was an accomplishment.  LONG story short, I am hoping to beat my time this year by at least one minute.  Just a minute. That's all I need.

However, I do have some pre-race poop anxiety.  Because you know that story about Azalea pooping on the side of the road is enough to make anyone worry.  I mean...once you get on the first bridge...that bridge is 3 miles long and there ain't nary a bathroom until you get off that damn thing.  So, I am probably gonna wear black spandex capris, because if I have to shit my pants I want it to be contained.


But I am sure it will be fine.  

Returning to the original point of this post was to talk about that beautiful food creation posted when I began typing.  That is called a Monte Cristo sandwich.  And if you have never had one, I hate it for you, because you have not lived your life to it's fullest and it's a damn shame.  Some of you may have partaken in eating a Monte Cristo if you ever frequented a restaurant named Bennigans.  As I believe all Bennigans have closed now...they may be harder to find.  But if you are a good food huntress, you can still find them from time to time.  

Over the summer, Rachel and I went to grab a bite to eat mid beach bike pub crawl.  At first she guffawed at my order...but I made her take a bite of this battered ham, turkey, and cheese deep-fried blessing from the Gods...and she actually teared up a bit.  That's how I really knew that her and I were meant to be friends...anyone who tears up at the pure deliciousness of food...well we recognize a place deep in our former fat girl souls.  Anyways, we made a solemn vow that day that come the Double Bridge Run in February of 2015, we would once again return and fill our belly's with the Monte Cristo.

So tomorrow, I am running for that damn sammie at the end.  Did I tell you they serve it with a side of raspberry jam?  I MEAN WHAT!?!?  

And for those of your sitting in your chair right now judging me and thinking that you would not enjoy such a shut your hateful mouth.  At least until you come to visit me and you give it a try.  Or, if you are a vegetarian.  Cuz meat aint your thing and I honor that.  Respect.  But for the rest of you....this sandwich is waiting.

Don't resist.

When I was searching for pictures of the Monte Cristo online...I came across this one:


is it me or do those look like...

"ham wallets"?  They are like little sammie version of vaginas.


You're welcome.