Just poking the proverbial head in. Nothing on Scouts, Cub, Boy, Girl or 1222, but I got some nice news yesterday. My baby sister is getting married! Hooray for her. Even better is that my niece will now officially have a Daddy, which will be way too cool. And he’s even a nice guy, too boot! My strange family has not even scared him away. Apparently the wedding is next summer, so we still have time to chase him off but hopefully won’t.
Shibb I can get my hands on some pitch forks and pine tar torches if your family needs any. 
YAY Shibbsis!
I’ll ask Mr. Lissar about spices.
No, on second thought I won’t.
Perhaps I’ll make pot roast today. I’ve still got half a chocolate and cherry bread pudding to eat. I am the only one in this household (besides Quasi-Daughter, but she’s away at school now) who’ll eat bread pudding, even when I point out that it’s the same ingredients as french toast. So whenever I make it to use up leftover bread I have to eat all of it.
It’s lots-of-housecleaning-and-reading-a-stupid-Anita-Blake-novel day at the Lissar household.
Good luck,Bob.
I thought of this last night after I had shut down the computer, the the pure light of day has not detered me from posting it. Be warned.
So, if someone can talk out their butt, that must mean they can sing out their butt, right? And if they did so while wearing fashionable underwear, the tune would just have to be A Thong in My Heart.
Unless swampy was the one singing (in fashionable underwear), in which case the song would be Thong of the South.
And finally (and this made me giggle all on my lonesome), if you designed fashionable underwear for a stately waterfowl, would you have a Swan’s Thong?
Funny you should post that. I read on LJ this morning someone musing about musical underwear. He said there should be a G-string that actually sounds “G” when plucked.
My stance is that if we’re in our drawers together, you’d best not be playing with my clothing. Knowhaddamean?
Grrrrrr - there was frost this morning. There will probably be frost tomorrow morning. We bought a house with a 2 car garage so I wouldn’t have to scrape my windshield before I go to work. However, said 2 car garage is full of baseboards and chair rail and crown molding and a few other miscellaneous things that haven’t yet been installed. So my van sits in the driveway. Frosted. Grrrrrrr…
Other than that, I got nothin’ - Tomorrow’s my Friday since Thursday is a Federal holiday and I took Friday off. So I’ve got a 4-day weekend ahead. I’m going to go see my mom on Thursday. But I gotta get thru tomorrow first.
That’s really all I got. TTFN!
The design review is done. Several people told me I did fine, so I’ll assume I did.
We’re gonna get bit on a couple of issues, but I don’t think it will be all that bad. I’m expecting a timing study, having to finish the test plan I started, and some edits to already written documents. And to think I got into engineering for the girls and the glory…
Another review tomorrow, but I’m there as the audience, and not the hot seat. 
See, today would be read-a-stupid-Anita-Blake-novel day at my apartment, but the book is still in transit to my local library - finally! I’ve had the request in for like, forever.
I have been enjoying re-reading the Spenser novels - it’s the Boston that gets to me every time. And Spenser is funny. And Hawk is F-I-N-E.
Mom was here over the weekend - and the thought is now being tossed around that since it will now just be the three of us (Mom, Dad & me) for Christmas, that we might as well spend it someplace warm, like we’ve done the last few years. Since I was so selfish as to move so I could have a good job (darn me!), we’re talking Caribbean. Should be fun - if we actually can find good rates.
Susan
It was a brisk 79 F here today. Doubtless a bit cooler in Jax. We miss you, dear.
Yeah, yeah, you say you miss me, but do you call? Do you write? Do you send flowers?
BAH!
I should see if Driving Husband’s mother has the latest one. They’re so trashy.
I was going to have us eat leftover ham-and-cheese strata today, but maybe I should thaw bread and do fondue? The pot roast didn’t happen due to housecleaning and laundry. Might happen tomorrow night depending on dance class.
Low of -4C here, tonight. Currently 1C. Pretty chilly. Think I’ll do hot spiced (shut up!) cranberry juice after dinner. Maybe with rum.
You know, less and less actually happens in the Anita Blake novels, but they’re getting bigger and bigger. I suggest, that as you wait for the newest to arrive at the library for you, you pump up using something of similar size such as the OED.
But yeah, wonderfully trashy.
You just can’t eat them raw Scout. At least if you can’t if you believe my Grandma. She said if you eat raw pie dough, it’ll stick your heiney shut. I’m sure nobody wants that to happen, so please, don’t eat raw dough.
Of course, purely in the interest of Science, I conducted an experiment. Repeatedly. (Pretty much whenever Mom made pies and she wasn’t quick enough popping the roll-ups into the oven.) So far, the number of heiney stickings I’ve experienced- 0. And I haven’t gotten worms from eating raw cookie dough, either.
Makes me wonder when Grandma got her “facts”.
Surely you’ve received the chocolates and citrus we’ve been sending?
Rue, the bigger concern with raw pie or cookie dough would be salmonella from the eggs. Not likely, but certainly a possibility unless your eggs are past your eyes.
Rue you’re treading on dangerous ground not heeding grandma’s advice. One of these days you’re gonna eat some raw pie dough and just happen to get constipated soon after. Of course, dear ol’ Grandma (providing she is still among us) will be there when it happens to say “See I told you so!” If the dear lady is not among us still, somebody in your family will pipe up and say “Didn’t Grandma always say, if you eat raw pie dough it’ll stick your hiney shut?” You can’t win so you shouldn’t be eating raw pie dough.
Lissla I’ve been thinking about pot roast myself. I have a nice chuck roast in my freezer that would make a nummy pot roast. Maybe I’ll make a pot roast in my crock pot on Saturday. Cept that’d make it more of a crock roast, but it is a pot, so it’s still a pot roast. I’m gonna clean off my back porch and deck Saturday afternoon and refill the hot tub. I drained it two weeks ago and haven’t filled it back up. Maybe I’ll fill it up Saturday morning so it’ll be all toasty and warm by Saturday evening. Then I’ll lure ACBG into the hot tub with a bottle of chilled champagne and… well, I’ll let y’all figure out the rest.
Kalley Thong of The South. BWAAAAAAAHAAAHAAAHAAAHAAA!!! That was funny. Me in a thong is still way scary though.
I got nuttin’ to say about trashy novels. vunderbob congrats on the review. Good on ya!
How many of us have made this mistake? How many children will continue, each year, to come into contact with math and science and become addicted, filled with a desire to build and create through no fault of their own, and be condemned to a life of sleeplessness, loneliness and ulcers? How many, in their declining years, will look back and say “hell, I should have just played football, ‘studied’ art history, and chased tail” and regret their decision to attempt to actually improve the world around them? The Geekdom Trail ends at Misery Junction, folks. To become an engineer is to condemn yourself to a life of being unappreciated, misunderstood, and confounded by lesser beings such as lawyers and accountants. Non-engineers won’t even understand what you do, much less give you any credit for it. In their eyes, you and the janitor are of equal worth, because your job titles both include the word “engineer.” Don’t get me started on the IS dweebs with their “certifications.”
No, my children, engineering is to be avoided. Your best work will be met with scorn and incomprehension, and you will end broken and bitter. At best, one time in your life you may produce that one special something, something wonderful that you can forever point to and say with pride “I made that.”
Maybe it’s not so bad after all.
My credentials include a couple of them “Certifieds” Ex speaks of. In my case it’s “Certified Rehabilatation Counselor” and “Certified Vocational Evaluator.” Still, I deal with people on a daily basis who think my credentials include “Rules and Regs SOB” cause that’s what I mostly am. It’s a glamorous life I lead, I tell ya.
Oh and those “Certifieds” mean that every couple years I have to “participate” in x number of hours of continuing education to remain “Certified.” Participate, HAH! Mostly it’s stuff like web based training which I keep open in one window to see what’s going on every once in a while, while keeping something like the Dope open in another window and entertaining myself. Then I answer some stupid questions which result in a certificate showing up in a couple weeks saying I participated. All that for a couple hundred bucks of my hard earned money, which I get as a deduction on my income taxes for whatever it is my accountant says I can take it for. He’s good at stuff like that. I likes my accountant.
-swampbear (Certified and I gots the certificates that say so)
Y’all think engineers are misunderstood? Try bein’ a surveyor. Nobody has any idea what those scruffy guys carrying long sticks and telescopes really do. Mr. Anachi doesn’t have to wade through muddy swamps full of snakes and gators anymore but he still has to go get “certified” from time to time.
I thought the guys with the sticks were there to camoflage the fact that the guys with the telescopes were really Peeping Toms.
That was beautiful, Ex. I’m so glad I didn’t go down the engineering (is that spelled right?) road. Of course it had no attraction for me at all, because I’m one of those dumb artsy people, and I’m terrified of math and science. But when I have children, I’ll make sure they heed your warning.