Ooh my grandpa built trains too. Well, um, real ones.
So what’s the guess on what will be Exgineer’s 1000’th post?
Oh, I’m always in the caboose too Salem. If not being drug along the track behind the train that is. My grandfather was an engineer on the railroad many, many years ago. That must be relevant somewhere.
I actually managed to miss the entire Derby this weekend. My brother, the chef, decided to whip up a dinner for family and friends. Being that I fit in there someplace I got to go. He didn’t say what was on the menu. He frequently doesn’t as he changes his mind a lot. But, heck, it’s free food. Anyhoo, I thought I’d be nice and all and bring a bottle of dessert wine-goes with anything, very nice. We ended up having a delicious, juicy meatloaf with bacon on top and ketchup sauce of course. Sides (although they were spread all over the table, not just the sides) were garlic mashed potatoes, green beans, broccoli salad, congealed grapefruit salad and fluffy dinner rolls.
Dessert was deep-fried twinkies.
What kind of wine goes with that??
[sup]It was very tasty though.[/sup]
I am guessing it will be the next one.
There’s a train club just over the line in Indiana. They make and drive those littler scale trains. Some of them are coal fired steam jobbies. I know about it because they got profiled (actually it was all around, so it was profile, full face and 3/4 view) on the news one time when there was a slow news day. My grandpa had nothing to do with it. Although I did get a train set from my grand-uncle (grandpa’s brother). It’s Z-scale which is the smallest production electric train. It’s tiny. And through a stroke of serendipty, I found a Z-scale Godzilla to go with it. That was the coolest part.
I think the wine that goes with a fried Twinky would be… something that tastes like strawberry and has a screwtop. But I’m just guessing.
-Rue. (with the stripey engineer hat and red bandana)
I have a striped engineer hat, even tho I’m not that kind of engineer. I used to wear it to work - kinda like a joke. But no one in that office had a sophisticated sense of humor. So the hat wound up in a drawer somewhere. Not that big a deal - I’m not much of a hat person anyway.
My friend, Betty, however, loves hats. When we meet for breakfast, she’ll have a hat - anything from a straw bonnet to a propeller beanie (really - she wore a prop beanie once.) I like hats, but they don’t look right on me. Maybe my head doesn’t conform to the usual hat paradigm. Or I don’t try the right size. No matter. It’s too hot for hats here. Although I did wear a ballcap when I was mowing the yard yesterday.
My grandfather had a set of trains - my nephew has them now.
I had a Lionel [sup]TM[/sup] train when I was a kid. I think it’s stored in my parents barn (which isn’t a barn, it’s a storage building but they call it the barn, so I do too just to humor them).
Ex I don’t think Homebrew (won’t it be a hoot if he does a vanity search and sees how many times his name’s been mentioned in this thread!) would beat you up. He might growl at you as he drags me off to have his way with me. [sub] pant! pant![/sub] I don’t know if he likes haiku or not, but we could make up a special one just for him.
Copper_Moon I’m so glad you’re happy about being sig lined. BTW, I thought it was Homebear and swampbrew 
Interesting fact: I have two sig lines courtersy of Rue threads, both of which use the word jake.
FCM why do you have this fantasy about Ex and me wearing thongs? 
Oh and maybe Ex’s 1000th post will be about trains, haiku, beer and calling me Angel Pants.
Jeezo Flip. Get all busy during the day and the next thing you know Rue’s Monday Morning Post has 46 replies and has already been hijacked to hell and gone.
Plus my good buddy Exgineer is getting ready to hit a milestone in his posting career and I haven’t even given him any good ideas to help him along.
Man, that’ll teach me to work instead of acting like I’m working just to collect a paycheck.
You know swampbear, I’ve been alive a long time and no one has ever called me angel pants. I’m not so sure I’d want them to, but either way, it hasn’t happened. It must be an incredible milestone in your life. Unless of course, it’s just the usual for you.
And my grandfather built the steam engines and drove a milk truck with horses, but my father was an engineer, but not the train kind either. He was disappointed when I went into one of those silly helping people professions. I was the son he never had. Well, except for my brother, who wasn’t very good at mechanical things. So he was stuck with a daughter that had an engineer-type mind, but went in another direction. But I still talk mechanical stuff with him. And I can fix his computer. So he likes me.
Should I lie down now? Can we do this with puppets?
MMMMMMMMMMM… potato salad! Bring it on Wintermute! Sorry, I just saw the potato salad thing. And I don’t care if Ex goes around telling everyone you dribble, you can come to the pool party anyway. I’ll have extra napkins. The big absorbent kind, just for you.
Salem I told Ex he could call me Angel Pants or anything else he likes as long as it means I get hand dipped chocolates. Hence, I am now Angel Pants to Ex.
My hub calls me smiley-pants when we’re playing cards. Does it count?
What are we talking about, now, anyhow? Potato salad? trains? I still kind of want to talk about WalMart. But that’s okay. I can let it go.
I’d offer to call Salem Angel Pants, as no one else has, but that might get confusing, since that’s what Ex is calling Swampy.
Would it be okay if I call you Sugar Britches, instead?
Kn(I am not aware of any of my ancestors working on trains. Though maybe they were undercover, secret rail engineers in their spare time. Yes, that’s a possibility.)ckers
Kn(if its an “I” she’s bragging about her pants, if it’s an “O” she’s bragging bout her err…)ckers, I think you should call Salem Sugar Britches. It sounds so nice.
Oh, and if you’re going by Wal-Mart anyways, how bout picking up some ice and some of those nice plastic Solo[sup]TM[/sup] plastic cups? We need plenty of ice cause it gets hot out here by the pool and we don’t need any real glass around the pool area.
Kn*ckers, I’ll talk about Wal-mart. Actually, what I find most annoying is the kids allowed to run crazy all over the store. That, and the people who don’t put things back correctly. But, other than that, I love Wal-mart. I can get everything from tires to lip gloss at reasonable prices. I have a tendency to spend way too much money there. But if you don’t like Wal-mart, Target’s nice, and far more stylish.
And I kind of think the old men at the door are cute. But then, I think people need work to be happy, and have no plans to retire until I can’t work anymore, so I think this Wal-mart greeter thing is a good idea. Gets them out of the house and interacting with other people; it’s exactly what they need. Maybe if you look at it that way, it won’t seem so depressing.
dwyr has eaten a deep-fried twinkie. I’m in love.
I’ve never had one, but I’ve heard about them. There’s a real barbeque competition here in June sometime- maybe they’ll sell odd deep fried junk food. That would be nice.
Thanks for the good wishes about the cat and stuff.
I just remembered this poetry fragment, and I think it fits. I can’t do haiku very well, so…
I had a duck-billed platypus when i was up at Trinity
With whom I soon discovered a remarkable affinity.
He used to live in lodgings with myself and Arthur Purvis
And we all went up together for the Diplomatic Service.
The platypus becomes a sucessful diplomat until he lays an egg in the Bulgarian Legation. It’s a funny poem. I should find the rest of it.
I bought daquiri mix yeterday. And rum. And a big bottle of citrus twist vodka. Who wants to be my friend?
<lays a big fluffy towel down on the lounge chair and escorts Lissla Lissar over to it>
Lissla! Dahling! Welcome to the pool party! Is that daiquiri mix, rum and citrus twist vodka I see? Oh! How Nice! Here have some bbq, potato salad, hand dipped chocolate, chips and dip. All comfy? Now, we’ll have Rue whip up a batch of daiquiris, being as he brought the blender and all.
How’s that for sucking up?
Every time I read “hand dipped chocolate” I visualize someone with drippy chocolate up to the wrist. That would make a mess in the pool. Chocolate ice cream would be a better idea. Or frozen candy bars. Or kahlua poured over melty French Vanilla ice cream. mmmmmmmmmmmmm
I skipped to the last post last time, and didn’t see this. Silly of me.
Anyway, just FTR, I don’t usually dribble. Much. But I’m a visual person with a good imagination and an appreciation of the absurd, and when you say things like, “Beak-nibble injuries”, well, it makes me giggle. So, thank you very much for the extra absorbant napkins, as I fear, with this crowd, that I will be doing a lot of dribbling. You are a true gentleman, Swampbear. 
The suck-uppage was very well done, swampbear.
Speaking of drinking, Mr. Lissar and I saw a friend from college over the weekend whom we hadn’t seen since we graduated two years ago. It was great. He’s been studying in Paris, and wandering vaguely around Europe. He had lots of really good bar stories, and he’s taking up smoking a hookah. He was working in a mafia-owned sleazy Parisian bar for two weeks without pay, and spent a few months in a couple of different monasteries. He’s thinking about becoming a monk.
He’s a rockin’ cool guy. May I bring him to the pool party?
Let’s see now.
I don’t know much about trains. I’m pretty much up to speed on the whole steam thing, but that’s in a more stationary-installation type context. And trains don’t run on steam any more, so I guess I’m out of the loop on that one.
As for party supplies, I do a pretty good spinach dip, and a nice shrimp-based cracker spread dealy. They’re really easy to make. All I have to do is call my Mom and ask her to walk me through it again. I’m getting mixed messages here, though. Am I supposed to bring chocolate or not?
I also have some of those transparent double walled drinking glass tumbler things. They’re great for pool parties. Unfortunately, I only have four, so I’ll have to stop by Wal*Mart on the way. I’ll be sure to be nice to the greeter.
I see Lissla is flogging the platypus poetry again, which pretty much amounts to swiping my (lame) gimmick. I don’t really mind, though. She’s edging up on her 1000th post too. I’m sure it’ll be better than this one.
I definitely want to meet a bartending mafia monk. That would be cool.
I think I’ve put together a reasonably solid post here, after all. No thanks to that no-idea-having bum welby.