Daily irk done, now baking midafternoon on a rooftop pool surrounded by fat pale (or fat bright red) midwestern retirees. At least the cocktail babe is cute and the mojitos are cold & tasty.
Nowadays my favorite pizza is none, since I can’t (won’t really) eat but a bite or two of crust. Back in the day thinly sliced tomato rounds, very thinly sliced white (NOT red) onion strips, black olives, and either pepperoni or sausage but not both was my go to.
I see shoe is replying right now, so I’ll move on to await her tales of last night’s pizzapalooza!
A week. Oh, bless your heart, you sweet summer child.
I have a basket of blankets & flannel sheets from last winter that are prrrrrrobably pretty wrinkled by now.
In my defense, 1a.) I don’t need 'em right now, so “out of sight, out of mind” is fine (the basket is in a corner of Pretzel’s room) and 2b.) I don’t really have anywhere to put them even if I did fold them.
Also 3c.) I have never in my life given a flying if my sheets, pillowcases, or underwear is rumpled, and I certainly don’t intend to start now!
To address item 2b.) I have taken some measurements and ordered inexpensive shelves off the You-Know-What.
Frankly, this is a trial: I really want over-the-terlet shelves, but the unoccupied space in my teensy bathroom is tricky, not least of which is because I already installed a shelf on the adjoining wall and there ain’t no way in hell imma un-doing that one. Plus the plumbing stuff has to fit.
The shelves should also fit in the corner of my bedroom where my hamper lives. (The “toilet” space would be occupied by said hamper.) This gives me the opportunity to audition the shelves, to see if they fit in the wee bit of available bathroom space.
If not, they should at least give me a place to put all those friggin’ blankets and flannel sheets in my bedroom corner.
If not that, then free returns. Or, more likely, skip disassembling work and put the damn thing in the basement, where I can always use more organizational space.
Just go home from shots. I asked the nurse if there’d be any problem with the left arm injection, since I still have Covid Arm. She said no. It’s windy and cloudy and trying to rain but can’t quite remember how. I love days like this.
From the Irony Department: I ordered some books to give to my great-nieces when we go to Michigan. I had 'em sent to my sister’s house in Chicago so I wouldn’t have to schlep them. It rained really hard, and she didn’t know the box was out there. The Happy Snappy Crab is now the Frowny Drowny Crab. Amazon is sending a replacement.
Sounds idyllic. (I’d replace the waitress with a waiter,but same concept. And I love “pizzapalooza”!
MetalMouse, hope your trip home is smooth and swift.
Lily, could you have developed an allergy to wasp stings?
I keep suggesting this to shot-givers, and nobody takes me seriously. A shot for a shot! People would be lining up for vaccinations they don’t need! “Mr. Barger, weren’t you here for a tetanus shot last week?” “I need a booster. I got a second-hand bed of nails, and they’re a little rusty.”
Hop on down to Pilot’s. Word is he’s buying.
I’m afraid I’d never leave. My kids would be saying, "Can you dog-sit on the 13th? And I’d be like, “No can do. Fabio, Jr. and I are inventing new drinks that day.” Their Christmas presents would be made from my vast collection of little paper umbrellas. I’d get carpal tunnel from applying sunscreen to chubby farmers from Earwig, Minnesota and Chilly Nubs, Indiana. Not pretty. Not pretty at all.
Well. Now that we’ve identified your ideal self living your ideal life, what concrete steps can you / we take to help you get off top dead center and start moving that way?
Howdy Y’all! Home from men’s night over to the church house. Actually been home for half and hour but chillage and readin’ up had to happen. 'Twas a good time as always with a good crowd. As usual we solved all the world’s problems, but since no one ever listens to us, the world remains in chaos. Such is life, I suppose.
Pilot make the bartender gay and perhaps I would never leave.
Evening all. Sitting in Atlanta airport waiting to see if I get on this flight or wait three hours and get a $700 Visa for sitting on my butt some more. Just had a commotion behind me, a lady collapsed on the floor, appears to be breathing but scary. The pros are here now. Will catch up with y’all later.
Big humoungus burst of laughter…since I could see in my mind when my Mom used to do this. Did you take leftover packets of butter and jam, too?
Very impressive young man.
Well, I got the bottle of Amaretto down from the top shelf of cupboard over frig. Sent text to daughter asking if she has Kahlua left from last time I bought some for her apartment several years ago. Will buy cream (half & half) when I get to Chicago. Then we’ll be ready to celebrate swampy’s birthday on Saturday.
As far as pizza, I like Italian sausage, fresh sauteed mushrooms (I agree with FCM that canned mushrooms are an abomination), sauteed red, yellow or orange bell peppers (absolutely none of that green stuff for me) and carmelized yellow onions. My second choice for meat is Canadien bacon. I’d prefer not to have pineapple but if someone else ordered it, I wouldn’t pick it off. Lately they’ve ordered breakfast pizza at work once a month from the Italian Bakery. Eggs, ham, onions and maybe some other veggie covered with a double order of mozzarella. Pretty good.
Unfortunately the boss had some kind of emergency and is in Chicago so I have to work tomorrow. So, I’d best start getting prepared for sweet dreams soon. Nitey night all.
But not “leftover” butter and jam. She’d empty the whole jam carrier, all 8 or 12 or 16 jam & honey tublets. And ask for extra butter and when they’d bring a bowl of a dozen individually-wrapped pats she’d dump all that in her purse too.
Mom, the Depression ended about 80 years ago. Not for me it didn’t. She had so much money compared to her needs it was silly. But the Depression hadn’t ended and was certainly soon to return. Any day now.
Poor tortured soul. Mostly she was good about being financially comfortable and made sound decisions. Then she’d start scraping the pennies again.
Having a margarita in honor of Tequila Day. And having a Tex Mex style burger with fries, and corn on the cob seasoned with Penzy’s Arizona Dreaming seasoning.
Howdy all. Still in Atlanta…but $800 richer for giving up my seat and leaving at 11:40pm. The lady who collapsed at the gate recovered ok after the medicos got there, well enough to board the plane. So sitting next to 5 Guys in Terminal C in Atlanta and trying to stay awake.
Have read most and retained little, so will try to catch up tomorrow…whenever I wake up…
if my sheets, pillowcases, or underwear is rumpled, and I certainly don’t intend to start now!
