(A tip of the cap to the Chai-rista.)
Hmmm... I wonder if these are related in any way, shape or form to these. Coincidence? I think not.
(A tip of the cap to Barry Campbell.)
Update: Well, I'll be dipped! At least one of my regular readers wants to play, too. Okay. If you're not a Jawja Blodger but want to stand and be counted, add yourself to the Omnibus Tour map here.
Update II: I'm moving this up to the top for a while. If you haven't already put yourself on the map, please do!
Update III: What's a Jawja Blodger? Anyone who's been to a blogmeet with the "Southeast Writers Conference." Or anyone who blogs from the great state of Georgia.
(There's your link, Meryl.)
I'm not so sure about this... HOWEVER, I have been threatening for years to have LoJack sensors sewn into the cuffs of my bosses' trousers, as they are forever disappearing when I need them the most.
Update: The bosses, not the trousers, that is.
Professor Bainbridge said if I posted a review after I finished this book (instead of bitching up a storm before I'd even cracked the cover (my interpretation, not his words)), he'd cross-post on his blog. Here goes:
Reading this book is like getting a Grande Decaf Skim Latte with Splenda when what you ordered was a full-fat Frappuccino. All the basic ingredients are there, but it lacks that extra oomph that really satisfies.
A couple of other things I'd like to say to Mr. Martin: 1) Cersei Lannister gets far too much time and attention, especially in this book. Behead the bitch, already. 2) Your little postscript at the end of the book chapped my ass to no end. It wasn't cute. It wasn't nice to wait until the end to do this. Next time, do it in the prologue. (And, BTW, it didn't mention Tyrion. Will that story line be revived in yet another book? Durrrrrrrrrrrr!!!!!!!!!!!!) 3) The Dornish story line stunk. Stupid. Boring. Not necessary. 4) If you're going to put my little Arya in the book, by golly give her a better story line. She's in Braavos. Send her to the Water Dancers for training. Quit fooling around here!
That which should have and could have been so pleasing has left me with a distinctly bad taste in my mouth.
P.S. -- The cover art still stinks compared to the original stuff. Also, the binding was distinctly inferior to past editions. The paper was cheaper, and poorly cut. In fact, there were uncut sections in my copy.
(A tip of the cap to Mimi Smartypants.)
The thought of these gets me all tingly.
I'm hoping Og wants to hitch a ride with Buckaroo Bonsai and I. And that Spoons, Pammy, Dana and the rest of Da Locals on my blogroll will consider attending, as well. Sounds like FUN!
(Buckaroo Bonsai should be eligible for sainthood for putting up with me through this.)
I just want to be healthy again.
'Scuse me. I'm off to find a hot toddy now. Maybe that'll fix it. The Nyquil certainly isn't.
TWAS , THE NIGHT OF THANKSGIVING
BUT I JUST COULDN'T SLEEP
I TRIED COUNTING BACKWARDS,
I TRIED COUNTING SHEEP.
THE LEFTOVERS BECKONED -
THE DARK MEAT AND WHITE
BUT I FOUGHT THE TEMPTATION
WITH ALL OF MY MIGHT
TOSSING AND TURNING
THE THOUGHT OF A SNACK
SO, I RACED TO THE KITCHEN,
FLUNG OPEN THE DOOR
AND GAZED AT THE FRIDGE,
FULL OF GOODIES GALORE.
I GOBBLED UP TURKEY
AND BUTTERED POTATOES,
PICKLES AND CARROTS,
BEANS AND TOMATOES.
I FELT MYSELF SWELLING
SO PLUMP AND SO ROUND,
'TIL ALL OF A SUDDEN,
I ROSE OFF THE GROUND.
I CRASHED THROUGH THE CEILING,
FLOATING INTO THE SKY
WITH A MOUTHFUL OF PUDDING
AND A HANDFUL OF PIE.
BUT, I MANAGED TO YELL
AS I SOARED PAST THE TREES....
HAPPY EATING TO ALL;
PASS THE CRANBERRIES, PLEASE.
MAY YOUR STUFFING BE TASTY,
MAY YOUR TURKEY BE PLUMP.
MAY YOUR POTATOES 'N GRAVY
HAVE NARY A LUMP,
MAY YOUR YAMS BE DELICIOUS,
MAY YOUR PIES TAKE THE PRIZE,
MAY YOUR THANKSGIVING DINNER
STAY OFF OF YOUR THIGHS.
HAVE A WONDERFUL THANKSGIVING!
(A tip of the cap to the Sweetheart of Shell Knob, MO!)
(Yes, it's day five of the first cold of the season. Guess I should have quit complaining and put on the boots and burka much earlier in the week last week.)
The business model doesn't make sense. The lack of due diligence (especially legal) prior to making a name change didn't make sense. The name chosen didn't make sense -- both as a legal matter and from a name recognition/sexiness point of view. But jumping straight into another name change in less than a week makes even less sense.
I like a lot of the writers who've signed on to Whatever-They're-Calling-Themselves-These-Days-Media. In fact, I like the writing of the two founding members. But I don't like what I'm seeing unfold before my eyes: the media's "watchdogs" offering themselves up to the media for breakfast. With sliced bananas.
Bad move. Really bad move.
My mother always said that you are judged by the company you keep. Especially in your professional life.
Scribblings is hosting Carnival of the Cats.
Rocket Jones hosts Carnival of the Recipes.
Anywhoo, here's the deal:
The Princess Mom's Cranberry Relish
In a saucepan place:
1 lb. fresh cranberries
1¼ cups water
Bring to a low boil and cook until thickened.
2 cups sugar
and cook for another 5 minutes.
1 large box cherry Jello
¾ cup chopped nuts
¾ cup chopped celery
1 large can crushed pineapple (undrained)
Remove from heat and pour into a large mold or bowl. Chill until firm.
Note: One of my friends likes this spread on top of a toasted bagel with cream cheese. I've gotta tell you, it's nummy that way, too.
There's only one reason you'll see mist like this on the Chicago River.
Baby, it's COLD outside.
(Pay no attention to the IMDB plot line description. It sucks. Instead, scroll down for Tom Hutton's review. It's spot-on.)
Don't be put off by the subtitles. There's so little dialogue, it doesn't much matter. Beautifully filmed and beautifully acted. Subtle, gentle humor throughout.
This is one movie that we'd like to see again -- maybe with Ellison and SWMBO.
I know what's going on Eric's Christmas list this year.... Hmmm. He'd better be mighty nice to the Missus.
I am forwarding this to you speed demons who live and travel in the city. ;-)
For all of you speed angels out there. Please watch out. I got a ticket in the mail from the camera at 55th and Western. They are not playing... They sent with the ticket several pictures of my car, my license plate and me going through the "YELLOW" light. I guess I got busted. The ticket was $90 and because I didn't pay it or contest it within a couple of weeks it doubled to $180.
Be blessed and careful, Ruby
Subject: Ten new cameras in Chicago
Hey people -- just as an FYI for those of you driving around Chicago, there will be ten more cameras going up in the city at the following locations by the end of the year...it is a $90 ticket if you blow one of those red lights...watch out!
Fullerton and Cicero Avenue
Fullerton and Kedzie Avenue
Fullerton and Damen Avenue
Diversey and California Avenue
111th and Halsted Street
99th and Halsted Street
79th Street and Kedzie Avenue
63rd and State Street
Roosevelt Road and State Street
Cortland Street and Ashland Avenue
The following are where you can find current cameras in case you didn't know:
Chicago Avenue and Halsted Street
Division and Halsted Streets
North and Kostner Avenue
Belmont and Kedzie Avenue
Irving Park Road and Narragansett Avenue
Lawrence and Cicero Avenues
Foster and Nagle Avenues
Peterson and Western Avenues
119th and Halsted Street
87th Street and Vincennes Avenue
71st Street and Ashland Avenue
55th Street and Western Avenue
55th Street and Pulaski Road
47th Street and Western Avenue
35th Street and Western Avenue
31st Street and California Avenue
Cermak and Pulaski Road
Roosevelt Road and Kostner Avenue
Madison Street and Ashland Avenue
Kinzie Street and LaSalle Drive
Okay, kids. Let's be careful out there.
You Are Changing Leaves
|Your Inner Child Is Naughty|
"I believe it is my responsibility to discipline my children and teach them to have good manners and be respectful," wrote Alison Miller, who was quoted defiantly in the New York Times and said she has since received numerous threats and insults.Lady, you are absolutely correct. However, it's my right to have the peaceful dining experience I'm paying for by you and yours being ejected when you don't do either of those things. Let children earn the right to enjoy more adult entertainment only when they can demonstrate both discipline and manners at home, first. Don't do it on my time.
Well, poop. I hate shoes.
(Whatever you do, don't pass this info on to Buckaroo Bonsai. He's already read some article that says you get less colds and flu if you keep your nose warm. And he's always after me to put a hat on. I hate hats even more than I hate shoes. If BB reads this, I'll end up swaddled from head to toe, commuting in hip waders and a burka this winter. Stylish. Very stylish.)
Okay, guys. I can't top this. Go ahead and love Heather more than you love me.
Really, I will.
Forty seconds really flies by fast.
(A tip of the cap to Nancy V.)
Afterwards, I told Buckaroo Bonsai that I'd done it. His response? That the government should be doing that. (He's right on the one hand. On the other hand...)
My reply? I'm not waiting for our government. Soldiers' Angels can get the job done faster and more economically, anyway. I'd rather get more bang for my buck and have the power of choice for where my money is spent.
Now Key comes along with this story. Yes, I've made a donation. Once again, I don't want to wait for government agencies to do their jobs.
I'm with Key -- screw the PC issues and screw the government. Let's just get this done.
First of all, the cover art sucks and it is far less richly bound in comparison to the first three books. WTF was the publisher thinking? Sorry. It looks cheap.
Second of all, it doesn't have the heft the other books had. I expected well over 800 pages. WTF was Martin doing all that time? Sorry. It feels cheap -- both in content and in quality.
Third, the reviews are pretty evenly lousy, and apparently some of my favorite characters are completely missing. WTF was Martin thinking?
That's it. Instead of sidelining this book right away, I'm going to finish it and wait a little longer for Mr. Martin's magnum opus.
Damn. I feel like I just got a lump of coal in my stocking. And I was good, Santa. Really I was.
(And I second that motion. But can we also apply the same to Jesse Jackson and Al Sharpton? A wanker is a wanker is a wanker. Color doesn't matter. Creed doesn't matter. Political leaning doesn't matter. A huge sense of entitlement combined with no sense of shame is all it takes to achieve wankerhood.)
Gee thanks, Steve. Now I'll never be able to watch this movie again without cringing.
Salaam Pax is on a tear. If you don't read anything else today, read this post.
|Your Heart Is Blue|
Love is a doing word for you. You know it's love when you treat each other well.You are a giving lover, but you don't give too much. You expect something in return.
Your flirting style: Friendly
Your lucky first date: Lunch at an outdoor cafe
Your dream lover: Is both generous and selfish
What you bring to relationships: Loyalty
(Shamelessly swiped from Kate.)
I found this funny. Really funny. Then again, I take public transportation in the Chicago area...
Oxtail Soup (serves 2-3 hungry souls; double reciple for a larger group/family):
1-1/4 to 1-1/3 pounds oxtails (smaller bones are meatier, less fatty)
1 large carrot, peeled and diced
1 large rib celery, peeled and diced
1 medium onion, peeled and diced
2 heaping teaspoons of minced garlic (I like the jarred stuff that comes packed in oil)
2 big cubes beef bouillon
1/2 fresh ground black pepper to taste
3 cups water
1 small bag frozen mixed vegetables (I like a corn/carrots/lima & green bean mix, but use whatever you like/have on hand)
Drizzle olive oil into a 2-quart sauce pan and bring up to medium heat. Brown oxtails on all sides. Add carrots, celery, onion, garlic bouillon, pepper and water. Bring to a boil. Lower heat and simmer for about 3 hours.
Remove oxtails from pan and allow to cool a bit.
Add frozen vegetables to broth in pan and bring back up to a low simmer.
When oxtails are cool enough to handle, pick all meat from bones, discarding excess fat. (This is a messy, messy chore, best done by hand. You just can't get all the goodies free with a knife and/or fork.)
Return meat to the broth.
- If yes, remove pan from heat. Allow to cool, then refrigerate overnight. Skim congealed fat from top of soup before reheating. Serve with warm, crusty bread.
- If no, serve immediately with warm crusty bread... and softened butter.
Update: I think next time I'm going to splash a little sherry or Madeira in the pot just before serving.
Also, I missed posting a link to the Friday Ark. If you like critters of all kinds, go visit.
And if you're into creepy critters, Ellison is hosting the Carnival of the Cockroaches. (Yick!)
The Carnival of the Recipes is a day late. Find it Monday at Myopic Zeal.
The Divine Miss Marilyn: "My Gigolokitty! He enchants me to distraction!"
Tiger Boots: "Pictures? Here! Watch me pose."
"Hey, wait a minute! Who is this Gigolokitty!, and how come he's flirting with the old gal and not a cute young chick like me?"
The Divine Miss Marilyn: "Nay, not old... but a feline of a certain maturity. Like fine wine, best served with age."
This is a crucial time. It now appears that the desires of New York's cultural elite may be competing head-to-head with the 9/11 Memorial & Memorial Museum for a very limited amount of funds.
While the LMDC has repeatedly said that the Memorial will take fund raising precedence, it is hard to believe that is what will happen when they are handing out $35 million federal dollars (your money) in the form of grants "to existing and new cultural institutions downtown."
We invite you to vote in our on-line poll which asks the question: "If given a choice between building a "cultural arts center" OR building the 9/11 Memorial and 9/11 Memorial Museum at the World Trade Center site, which would you choose?"
It is important to make your voice heard now so there is no question as to where we stand on this issue. To vote, please visit www.takebackthememorial.org.
We will continue to watch the situation and update you accordingly, both via email and our web site.
Thank you for your time and your continued support.
To all the Veterans who have gone before us, and our current crop of men and women in uniform, thank you.
The Divine Miss Marilyn:
"My darling Gigolokitty!, I love you! See how I seduce the human into lavishing me with affection? I can seduce you, too, my plumptious one.
"Look deeply into my eyes.
"Resistance is futile."
(Happy dance on top of the desk ensues.)
(Just thought I'd try and make Og proud...)
There's an online petition to try to get HBO or Showtime to buy the Firefly franchise from Fox. Go sign it.
(A tip of the cap to McGehee.)
Hey! Has Pejman seen this? If anyone can scare up the signatures for this, it's Pejman.
I guess he's just a glass half full kind of guy.
(A tip of the cap to Ann Althouse, who has now given me a horrible ear worm.)
(A tip of the cap to Damien, who I know is smart, but had no idea is also very funny.)
Ellison waxes poetic. Nobody does it better.
If you get hooked on this, blame it on the Sweetheart of Shell Knob, MO. It's all her fault.
(And you will be hooked.)
And blame this on the Accidental Jedi:
|Your Band Name is:|
(I just might have to make a space for this guy on my own blogroll...)
Right. And if you believe that, I've got some nice swampland available for sale in Tucson.
Oops! Best headline of the day, on this topic, is found here. (So shoot me. I giggled.)
The Pastafarian Prayer can be found here.
Dax cracks me up. Really cracks me up. Is it any wonder I had such a good time in Helen?
This boggles the mind folks. I mean, you've got karma and slapstick and a bevy of beautiful people and street hustlers. Sounds more like an Elmore Leonard novel than a news report, no?
The Divine Miss Marilyn dreams of Gigolokitty!, for whom her passion burns hotter daily.
Before you give PETA even one nickel of your hard-earned cash, stop here first. They're sneakier with the old slight-of-hand than Penn & Teller, and with far more sinister intent.
(A tip of the cap to DaneBramage of Juggernuts.)
Darwin knew what he was talking about.
The Carnival of the Recipes is up at Pajama Pundits.
And now, a meandering meme swiped from my BlogMama:
Go to Google Image Search and type in the city and state/province of the town where you grew up, no quotation marks. Then select the picture you like best from the first page of results and post it on your blog. Here's mine:
Next do the same with the town where you currently reside. My result:
Next your name, first and last, but no quotes. My result:
Next your grandmother's name. My result:
Next your favorite food. My result:
Next your favorite drink. My result:
Next your favorite smell. My result:
Lastly, your favorite song. My result:
I'm not tagging anyone in particular with this, but... I gotta tell you, this was FUN! Just try it. (Even if you don't blog.)
Man, do I miss No. 23!
Angie invents a new invective here. I think I'm going to swipe it for personal use. Can you guess which one I mean?
(I suppose I'd get pretty colorful in my epithets if I was chasing as many rugrats as she is. You go, girl!)
(A tip of the cap to my Fairy BlogMother.)
Buckaroo Bonsai and I say we've "killed the goat" when we finished a bottle of this. It became a euphemism for finishing any bottle of red.
I had no idea it also meant this. (Shudder.)
Now I've gotta get a whole new phrase.
... had a visitor one day this week.
The girls agree that, unlike in politics, sometimes a closed door meeting is a very good thing.
In the immortal words of Mr. Miyagi, "Wax on. Wax off." (Ouch!)
(A tip of the cap to Pejman.)
Someone in New York must read Dax Montana from time to time. Yipes! That's frightening. Really frightening.
That's my story, and I'm sticking to it.
Nancy V. wants you to know that since flu season is just around the corner:
Eat right! Make sure you get your daily dose of fruits and veggies.
Take your vitamins and bump up your vitamin C.
Get plenty of exercise because exercise helps build our immune system.
Walk for at least an hour a day, go for a swim, take the stairs instead of the elevator, etc.
Wash your hands often. If you can't wash them, keep a bottle of antibacterial stuff around.
Get lots of fresh air. Open doors and windows whenever possible.
Try to eliminate as much stress from your life as you can.
Get plenty of rest.
Take the doctor's approach. Think about it...
When you go for a shot, what do they do first?
They clean your arm with alcohol... Why?
Because alcohol KILLS GERMS.
I walk to the liquor store. (exercise)
I put lime in my Corona. (fruit)
Celery in my Bloody Mary. (veggies)
Drink outdoors on the bar patio. (fresh air)
Tell jokes, laugh. (eliminate stress)
Then pass out. (rest)
The way I see it... If you keep your alcohol levels up, flu germs can't get you!
My grandmother always said,
"A shot in the glass is better than one in the ass!"
Remember John Wayne Gacy jokes? Ted Bundy jokes? GUYK raises the genre of finding humor in the gruesome to a whole new level with this NOLA joke.
[European] Business Trip
I checked into a hotel on a business trip and was a bit lonely so I thought I'd get me one of those girls you see advertised in phone booths when you're calling for a cab.
I grabbed a card on my way in.
It was an ad for a girl calling herself Erogonique, a lovely girl, bending over in the photo.
She had all the right curves in all the right places, beautiful long wavy hair, long graceful legs. You know the kind.
So I'm in my room and figure, what the hell, I'll give her a call.
"Hello?" the woman says.
God, she sounded sexy.
"Hi, I hear you give a great massage and I'd like you to come to my room and give me one. No, wait, I should be straight with you. I'm in town all alone and what I really want is sex. I want it hard, I want it hot, and I want it now. I'm talking kinky the whole night long. You name it, we'll do it. Bring implements, toys, everything you've got in your bag of tricks. We'll go hot and heavy all night. Tie me up, wear a strap on, cover me in chocolate syrup and whipped cream, anything you want baby. Now, how does that sound?"
She says, "That sounds fantastic Sir , but for an outside line you need to press 9."
While touring an Indian reservation in North Dakota filming a documentary, Barbara Walters was puzzled as to why the difference in the number of feathers in the headdresses. So, she asked a brave who only had one feather in his headdress.
His reply was: "Only have one woman. One woman, one feather."
Feeling the first fellow was only joking she asked another brave.
This brave had two feathers in his headdress. And he replied: "Me have two women. Two women, two feathers."
Still not convinced the feathers indicated the number of sexual partners involved, she decided to interview the Chief.
Now the Chief had a headdress full of feathers, which, needless to say, amused Ms.Walters. She asked the Chief, "Why do you have so many feathers in your headdress?"
The Chief proudly pounded his chest and said: "Me Chief, me sleep with 'em all. Big, small, fat and tall, me sleep with 'em all."
Horrified, Ms. Walters stated, "You ought to be hung."
The Chief said: "You damn right, me hung, big like buffalo, long like snake"
Ms. Walters cried, "You don't have to be so hostile"
The Chief replied: "Hoss-style, dog-style, wolf-style, any style.. ... me sleep with 'em all."
With tears in her eyes, Ms. Walters cried, "Oh dear."
The Chief said: "No deer. Ass too high, run too fast."
He also sent this:
It was October and the Indians on a remote reservation asked their new chief if the coming winter was going to be cold or mild.
Since he became the chief in a modern society, he had never been taught all the old secrets. When he looked at the sky, he couldn't tell what the winter was going to be like. Nevertheless, to be on the safe side he told his tribe that the winter was indeed going to be cold and that the members of the village should collect firewood to be prepared.
Now being a practical leader, after several days he got an idea. He went to a phone booth, called the National Weather Service and asked, "Is the coming winter going to be cold?"
"It looks like this winter is going to be quite cold," the meteorologist at the weather service responded.
So the chief went back to his people and told them to collect even more firewood in order to be prepared.
Two weeks later he called the National Weather Service again. "Does it still look like it is going to be a very cold winter?"
"Yes," the man at the National Weather Service again replied, "it's going to be a very cold winter."
The chief again went back to his people and ordered them to collect every scrap of firewood they could find.
Still apprehensive the chief called the National Weather Service one more time. "Are you absolutely sure that the winter is going to be very cold?"
"Absolutely," the man replied. "It's looking more and more like it is going to be one of the coldest winters ever."
"How can you be so sure?" the chief asked.
The weatherman replied, "The Indians are collecting firewood like crazy."
For my BlogMama:
A man entered the bus with both of his front pockets full of golf balls, and sat down next to a beautiful (you guessed it) blonde. The puzzled blonde kept looking at him and his bulging pockets.
Finally, after many such glances from her, he said, "It's golf balls".
Nevertheless, the blonde continued to look at him thoughtfully and finally, not being able to contain her curiosity any longer, asked, "Does it hurt as much as tennis elbow?"