susan, does that mean I should bring chocolate for two? 
swampy, like bumba, I’m a bit too far south to meet with you up in Seattle, though it seems a shame for you to come 3000 miles and then miss us by 300 (more or less). I’d drive as far north as Olympia, but I hate to drive anywhere past Tacoma–I hit traffic jams even when it’s not rush hour (I swear to the Gods, I was once delayed because there was a naked man on the freeway). I even know of two good resturants in Olympia–one local, the other part of a local chain. The one has a great beer selection, and the other makes great martinis. And then there’s this German bakery that makes cakes and donots to die for! Too bad you have to go to sucky old Seattle instead of Olmypia.
I’ll be in San Francisco and probaly Sacramento in early May–any MMPosters in that area?
Man walks into a psychiatrist’s office wearing nothing but a single layer of Saran wrap.
“Well,” says the doctor, “I can see you’re nuts.”
If you’d just remain inside of your vehicle these traffic tie-ups wouldn’t happen, you know.
That reminds me of my cousin Pierre’s wedding. (No it doesn’t, but how else am I gonna tell this story. I can’t wait 'til you all get around to weddings, ya know. I’d probably forget my story by then.)
Anyway, Pierre married a lovely young lady named Gabrielle, from Lyon. Pierre’s French, did I mention that? Anyway, they had a fantastic wedding. One of gaby’s girlfriends had had a big elaborate wedding, with everybody in black tuxes and fancy gowns (but not at the same time), and ice sculptures in the garden, and she even had a bunch of white doves released at the climatic moment. (And I’m not talking about the moment with me and that one bridesmaid in back of the gazebo.) Well, Gaby loved her friend’s wedding so much that she wanted to have one just like it. Only better! With more color! Gaby wanted all the bridesmaids to wear different colored pastel dresses, and all the groom’s men were to wear different colored tuxedoes, and there would be roses of every hue all over the grounds, (Pierre’s folks had grounds), and instead of white doves, Gaby wanted butterflies to be released during the vows. Butterflies of every color! She just knew it would be glorious!
Well, as luck would have it, our uncle Sy, (mine and Pierre’s) operated, among other things, a wedding outfitter sorta business in Brussels (Belgium) and Uncle Sy had done weddings just like Gaby wanted, butterflies and all! So Pierre made the call to Uncle Sy and soon truck loads of things, wonderful things, began to arrive at the villa. (You can’t have grounds without a villa you know) Soon everything was assembled and ready for the big event, except the butterflies. Because of their delicate nature, Uncle Sy would bring the butterflies with him from Belgium. So the big day finally arrived, and everyone was ready and waiting for Uncle Sy. And waiting. And waiting.
Finally Sy arrived, but without butterflies! Some dimwitted official at the French-Belgium border had refused to allow Sy to bring the butterflies across the border! Sy was crestfallen, but, experienced as he was, he figured that a bunch of doves would be better than nothing, so he quickly arranged with a local friend of his to have doves to release. Only one problem remained. Someone would have to tell Gaby she wasn’t going to get her butterflies. So my Aunt Yvette took it upon herself to go up to the room and break the news to Gaby. Now my Aunt Yvette is a lovely, gracious woman, but a bit blunt at times. So when she walked into the room, she didn’t beat around the bush. She walked straight up to Gaby, took her hands and said:
Sy can’t give you anything but doves, Gaby.
I officially promise to make Rue and swampy a big dish of maple syrup pancakes, butter tarts, Canadian bacon, and Quebecoise crepes if they migrate north!
Are puns allowed in the MMP?
All in one dish? Really? That’d be so cool! Wow! Just imagine how jealous everybody would be if I was to say Kythereia made me a maple syrup pancake/buttertart/Canadian bacon/Quebecoise crepe casserole. MMMMMMM!!!
Bumba BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!
Well, I thought it was funny. Specially all the aside stuff. Real Ruesque flavor to it.
Kalley I know Bumba and you are not near Seattle. It’s just where I’m bein’ sent for work, is all. Still, a piddly three hours wouldn’t kill the both of ya or anything. No guilt. Really. None. At All. Even though I might not ever again be that close. Really. No guilt. Nope. None. At all.
Just for you, swampbear, just for you.
I feel so special!
Homie just about everything is allowed in the MMP. Actually, the only thing I can think of that’s not allowed is not allowing things but that we’d probably let slide too.
Did I ever mention (probably didn’t because it hasn’t come up) that there’s a Chinese buffet near us, and on their dessert buffet, they have flan! Who’d’a thunk it? It’s not very good flan. In fact, it’s rather nasty. But what do you expect in a Chinese restaurant? I’m not culinary expert, but flan is not Chinese, is it?
Anyway, if you ever find yourself in this part of the country, Rue, I’ll take you to that restaurant, my treat, and you can have flan. The wife and kids are on their own, tho. After all, they never call, they never write, they never post…
Speaking of kids, should you find the stork slipping another young 'un under the door, you could name him/her Thawtfer. Just a suggestion.
It seldom is.
I was hoping for more of a ‘Bumbaesque’ flavor, but I’ll take what I can get. Thanks Swampy
Ah, but I will be in Etlanner again. Inna couple of years probably. But we’ll see. Keep us posted on your itinerary.
'twas a joke. I’m always afraid of punsters. I don’t always get puns and I feel like I might be the butt of their jokes.
Agh! My post was eaten! It was kinda long too, so I guess I’ll just recap:
Bumba and Kally, what am I? Chopped liver?? Sheeze! We could had our own little west coast MMP going on, but nooooooo , you don’t wanna come! We could have taken all kinds of incrim…er good pictures and posted them here. Just think of all the glamor, glitz and fun our belovedSwampy would add to the festivities. But, well, okay, whatever…don’t wanna come. C’mon, I shower DAILY, I promise I don’t stink! Seriously, though, I understand, it IS a bit of a distance. And, like you Kalley, everytime I head south to Oregon or come back home to Washington, the traffic is horrendous for some REALLY STOOPIT reason. Though, I’ve never seen a naked man on the freeway.
Well, back to my task at hand…
We never get nekkid men on the expressway here. The best we ever get is the guy that jumps up and down waving what I assume is his Bible (it’s black, so I figure it’s a good guess) and apparently rantin’ and ravin’ about something or other. I don’t know what he says cause It’s at an on ramp and I’m too busy revvin’ up to get on the expressway to actually hear anything. I’m jealous!
Well, there is the guy with the “Will Work For Food” cardboard sign that sits at a stoplight at one certain off ramp every Sunday. Every couple weeks he gets hauled off by the police. He never bothers anybody. He doesn’t like come up to cars and such. He just sits there with his cardboard sign. Course there was the time I saw him in the convenience about a block away from the ramp buying a twelve pack and some cigarettes. :dubious:
Well, I once had two of them in my back yard. Than Little Cat actually chased them away. That’s right, a small cat who has not managed to catch a single thing (while Big Cat routinely catches mice, chipmonks and birds) chased away two fully grown adult turkeys. I guess turkeys aren’t too good at knowing size differences (but then again niether is Little Cat). :dubious:
I had two full-grown swans in my backyard once. Considering it was the length of a football field from the pond, I was quite impressed. They wouldn’t go away until we fed them, either. Strangely enough, they never walked up again.
Kinda makes ya want to rethink the quality of the food you serve, doesn’t it? 
I had ducks in my back lawn often when I lived in Flawdah. Not very impressive, I’m sure you’re thinking. What makes these ducks special though is that they were just about the ugliest ducks you’d ever see. As my dad would say - “Those ducks have been beat with the ugly stick”. I love my dad’s sayings. “Ask me if I give a sh*t.” That’s a good one. Although he doesn’t say it with the asterik - that would be just silly. I’m trying to not offend the delicate sensibilities of those reading the MMP. Anyway, back to the ugly ducks. They sure was ugly.
I had a couple of them on my top balcony once - scared the heck out of me. Reason I saw them was one night I heard the most hideous sound in the world - sounded like someone choking. Searched around - and there they were - 3 ugly ducks, on the rail of my top balcony - 3 floors up.
Of course, I found other things on that top balcony. Golf balls, for instance. My back yard was on a golf course - and there were some bad golfers out there. I also found a kitten one night - goodness knows how he/she got there. Got her in off of the balcony and out the door. Didn’t keep him/her, so it’s not one of those cute stories. 2 cats is plenty. I got a scratch in the chest region from that one.
And then there was the time when they were painting my top balcony one morning and I didn’t know it. Luckily, I wear pajamas to bed. Get up, go to take a shower, notice a movement on the balcony…Poor guy was hiding to the side! And yes, he really was painting my balcony. Of course, they had to do a second coat a couple days later…
Susan
Taters, my dear, I thought it was kinda understood that the next time we make the incredably arduous trek to Seattle we wouild just let y’all know. Really. 'Sides, you’ve been down here without coming by. What are we to think of that? huh? :dubious: Another 'sides, it still might happen. But considering I haven’t had a day off since Christmas, well, we’ll see.