The Ka-tet Cantina 2

[Alexandra M]

Good Morning! Have a great week everyone

 

[blunthead]

 

[blunthead]

 

[Becks19]

I love melons.

Very clever Cowboy! It is always nice to see you here,

 

[Jojo87]

Have a great week!!

My week didn't start well but I try to go through it somehow. Next weekend Juho's cousin is getting married so we have a wedding to go to.
I also must start to search for a job here soon. It's drives me crazy that I don't have a job and I really want something to do. Something that I get
paid of. Yes I get money while I am without job, but not as much as I would get if I had a job. So hopefully something comes up soon.

Been colder again OK if you can call -3C cold, but last week we had 2C so that felt like summer of us. Sun has also shine so maybe the spring
and summer comes soon. I try to be hopeful.

Take care of you, be well and stay safe!!

(((all in need or not)))

 

[blunthead]

100 Great All-Time Movie Quotes: #25 to #1

You got an "A+".​

 

[Connor B]

I'm craving a nice, cheesy DiGiorno, and I'm wondering what movie to watch.

 

[not_nadine]

 

[Grandpa]

Along with a sizable portion of brain function.

 

[Grandpa]

Luck! Our fiscal year ends in June, so July kills me with all that, and then January does me in with all the W2s, 1099s, 1096s, bleh, bleh, bleh.
But it's thrilling when the numbers are right. It brings tears to my eyes every time.

How is Grease Live? I had a busy day and forgot about it. I think the Ogre is recording it for me.

So you'll watch Grease live recorded.

My brain just melted.

The weather people get their jollies telling us to expect storms. It's so weird. Then they interrupt shows all night, saying there's a Tornado Warning coz their radars are showing 'significant rotation' in this particular storm. When I was growing up, a Tornado Warning meant one had been seen (with actual human eyeballs) and you'd better hit the deck coz here it comes.

So now, since nothing ever happens when they do all their yammering, I just ignore it all. All the old people are in their basements trembling or in their underground shelters or running to the church next door coz it's got a basement. Ridiculous.

So, I'll probably be flying past Dorothy's window someday due to my ignoring some weather girl who wants to stay on TV all night, pointing and talking and warning and being CONCERNED about the community.

As you can tell, this is one of my pet peeves.

Yeah, we're promised a Snowmageddon at the moment. I've got an out-of-town assignment. Grandma's all, "I don't want you to go! But leave now so you have plenty of time through the awful road conditions!" It's what people are talking about.

So I drove down. Roads were wet, some snow patches, but pretty clear. Got to the hotel three minutes after check-in started. Now I've got the afternoon and evening to sit in my PJs and play on social media, watch the TV, or write some more. Maybe all of the above.

Every now and then this dire stuff pans out. Up till then, it's the boy who cried wolf.

Too easy.

Spoiler: The solution

It's a painted person lying among the vegetables.

Saw it right off, and I thought, "Today is not the day you want for the surprise Health Department inspection."

 

[danie]

I'm craving a nice, cheesy DiGiorno, and I'm wondering what movie to watch.

Your new avatar is very fetching.

 

[Connor B]

Your new avatar is very fetching.

Thank you. It's Johnny Depp's portrayal of Ed Wood.

 

[danie]

Thank you. It's Johnny Depp's portrayal of Ed Wood.

Yes. I know. mmmmm.

 

[blunthead]

 

[Connor B]

I don't have class until eleven tomorrow morning, so I can stay up a bit. I am really enjoying the "peedaroast" thread with some fava beans and a nice Chianti.

 

[blunthead]

 

[Neesy]

Why?

Why not?
God I hate this damn Samsung Galaxy Android phone!

 

[Neesy]

Tonight will see the 24th episode of the annual single malt scotch tasting party with the boys who met playing in the adult soccer league long ago when we all could do such things.

One of our charter members, one of the nicest, kindest, gentlest men I have ever known, will not be with us. He may be with us next year, but I doubt it. He's in a rehab facility at the moment, after being released from the hospital from a bout of pneumonia.

A number of years ago, he was very sick, and he went through a remedial regimen that was highly experimental, highly risky, and involved more than I think I'd want to go through. But it worked, mostly. He saw his sons graduate. He has watched his grandchildren from birth to playing on the floor in front of him.

But the treatment has taken a terrible toll. The antirejection drugs and antibiotics and steroids have wreaked havoc on his body over the years. Every scotch party, every year, we see him incrementally more declined. Sometimes he's not feeling well enough to make it.

We got word that because of his stay in the rehab facility, he wouldn't be able to make this gathering. I sent an email blast to the other boys saying where we need to be, and a group of us assembled in his room a few hours ago. He was very happy to see us, and although his voice was strong, his movements were painful, his body rack-thin. After the assistants left, we joked, he inquired about the upcoming gathering, we talked about it, and someone said, "We should've brought a bottle."

I reached in my jacket pocket and pulled out a plastic-covered tumbler with a measure of single-malt in it. It was Blair Athol, which isn't available the US, as far as I know. He sipped and declared it delicious. We joked around some more, he finished off the scotch after a bit, then said he was tired and needed to throw us out. We swapped handshakes and hugs, and we left.

You can see it in his eyes and in his carriage and hear it in what he says. Much of his talk is reminiscing about good times. But he's tired of fighting. It's beaten him up over the days, weeks, months, years, and now he's close to surrendering to the inevitable. He just doesn't have much left. His fight has been heroic. And maybe he will rehab from this episode after all, and maybe he'll get a little stronger, and maybe next year he will be back. But I don't think so. I think he is looking forward to that long rest.

Tonight we shall clink glasses, and we shall toast our absent and afflicted friend. And there will be no complaining about our own little aches and pains that come with age.

When we toast, it's almost always with the Gaelic "Sláinte!" But that word means "health," and tonight it seems like cruel irony. I'll take the lead on the first round and simply say, "To Jim." I'm not sure I could say much more than that anyway without getting unmanly, and he wouldn't approve of that.

Blair Atholl - yum

 

[Neesy]

Tonight will see the 24th episode of the annual single malt scotch tasting party with the boys who met playing in the adult soccer league long ago when we all could do such things.

One of our charter members, one of the nicest, kindest, gentlest men I have ever known, will not be with us. He may be with us next year, but I doubt it. He's in a rehab facility at the moment, after being released from the hospital from a bout of pneumonia.

A number of years ago, he was very sick, and he went through a remedial regimen that was highly experimental, highly risky, and involved more than I think I'd want to go through. But it worked, mostly. He saw his sons graduate. He has watched his grandchildren from birth to playing on the floor in front of him.

But the treatment has taken a terrible toll. The antirejection drugs and antibiotics and steroids have wreaked havoc on his body over the years. Every scotch party, every year, we see him incrementally more declined. Sometimes he's not feeling well enough to make it.

We got word that because of his stay in the rehab facility, he wouldn't be able to make this gathering. I sent an email blast to the other boys saying where we need to be, and a group of us assembled in his room a few hours ago. He was very happy to see us, and although his voice was strong, his movements were painful, his body rack-thin. After the assistants left, we joked, he inquired about the upcoming gathering, we talked about it, and someone said, "We should've brought a bottle."

I reached in my jacket pocket and pulled out a plastic-covered tumbler with a measure of single-malt in it. It was Blair Athol, which isn't available the US, as far as I know. He sipped and declared it delicious. We joked around some more, he finished off the scotch after a bit, then said he was tired and needed to throw us out. We swapped handshakes and hugs, and we left.

You can see it in his eyes and in his carriage and hear it in what he says. Much of his talk is reminiscing about good times. But he's tired of fighting. It's beaten him up over the days, weeks, months, years, and now he's close to surrendering to the inevitable. He just doesn't have much left. His fight has been heroic. And maybe he will rehab from this episode after all, and maybe he'll get a little stronger, and maybe next year he will be back. But I don't think so. I think he is looking forward to that long rest.

Tonight we shall clink glasses, and we shall toast our absent and afflicted friend. And there will be no complaining about our own little aches and pains that come with age.

When we toast, it's almost always with the Gaelic "Sláinte!" But that word means "health," and tonight it seems like cruel irony. I'll take the lead on the first round and simply say, "To Jim." I'm not sure I could say much more than that anyway without getting unmanly, and he wouldn't approve of that.

Very touching post by the by....

 

[Neesy]

TEXAS ROADHOUSE HONEY BUTTER

Ingredients:...
1 cup (2 sticks) butter, very softened
1 cup powdered sugar
1 cup honey
2 tsp. cinnamon

Add everything in the order listed, whipping well.

Whippet Good