Scout stole my fortune. No fair! I want a fortune! The fortune website is no good–I got one that said “Keep to yourself – friendliness may make enemies.” I like scout’s fortune better.
That’s okay–last time I went to Charlie’s Chinese Restaurant, I got one of the coolest fortune cookies ever. It said “Keep your plans secret for now.” 
Not really a fortune, but very mysterious!
I go out with “the old gang” once a month or so. We all live in the Greater Tampa Bay area right now, but pretty spread out within that geography. Last night we met at PJ’s Seafood on St. Pete Beach. Had some drinks, some oysters and other tasty stuff. Then, being all good men of rougly 40-45 years, we went to the Treasure Island Fun Center and played video games. K., who manages yacht clubs, brought some good wine, wine glasses, cigars and tawny port along. So after the video games we found a little dock on the Intracoastal waterway and drank wine and port and smoked expensive hand rolled cigars. There was a light breeze coming in off of the Gulf of Mexico, a nice moon and a handful of stars. We were jawing when we heard a very large “SPLASH”. Somebody guessed it must have been a tarpon, but then we looked over at the water and it was a pair of dolphins, now “porpoising” through the water in the faint light. They cavorted out there for several minutes while we watched, enthralled. Not something I’d do every day, even if I could, but all in all a nice way to spend an evening.
[Vulcan voice]Fascinating…but illogical.[/Vulcan voice]
So who exactly are the Loyal Order of the Moose loyal to? Just moose in general? Or one specific moose?
It’s been bothering me all day.
Their alcoholic beverage distributor. Duh.
I don’t really have anything to add - I just wanted to see all the cutesy smilies.
I’m playing at being Joe Programmer today, and sitting here (at the clients place) waiting for a test to complete so I can see if the computer did what I told it to do.
(It didn’t, stoopid computer!)
We ate leftover Cuban Rice and a big Chef’s salad last night. There, I added something.
I was an Eagle once, but we got tired of all the cigarette smoke at the clubhouse.
I think the deciding thing, though, was when I asked the barmaid for a Porter and she said “What’s a Porter?” So I ordered a Hefenweizen, and, as she was bringing me my beer, everyone was asking her “What’s that?” and she was saying “I dunno, it’s a heifer-wizzen or sumpin’, that guy over thar asked fer it.”
Not my kind of crowd. Yes, I am a beer snob, why do you ask?
That’s okay, Bumba, I’m a beer snob too. We’ll be snobby together. It will fit right in with that whole gated SDMB community thing.
We had take out from Herfy’s last night. I had a cheese and sauteed (piled high) burger. It was definitely artery clogging, but oh so good.
Okay, that would be sauteed onion (piled high) burger. I was busy talking and typing at the same time. Sometimes I don’t do dual or multiple tasking well.
<snerk> IN BED! <snerk>
If Big Jim’s daughters wind up where I am then they’re never gonna make it wherever they’re going which, I take it, is somewheres in Flardah.
I had Chinese for dinner tonight. My fortune said:
You aspire to be flexible in all your undertakings
Somebody oughta get a good <snerk> outta that one!
I must be a very naughty person, because I’m not conjuring innocent stuff in my mind while reading that fortune. I’m <snerking> away here. I needed a good <snerk> anyway.
I just saw my new office “space”. Space is not the proper word. I am being crammed into a 6X6 area. This 6X6 area will have two work surfaces 4X3 and 6X3 attached to the “walls”. This further cuts the space. Suffice it to say that Taters is not happy. Taters is the most senior and highest graded person to be put in that office yet will have the smallest space. How the hell did that happen?! But, I’m not gonna bitch, and I’m not gonna moan. I’ll take one for the “team”. Due to how many they want to cram in this office and the so called modular furniture, I don’t have any choice as far as expanding my space goes. Well, I could push the issue and expand my space, but then I would short someone else on their space. I just can’t be that snarky…sigh. I can only be snarky or bitchy when I’m writing. Okay, whining session over.
Swampy have you made your travelin’ plans yet?
Almost time to go home. Thank goodness! It’s been a looooooooooong day. Tomorow I’ll be here early to move my stuff to my new…“office”. Then I’m the hell out of here at 11:30 so I can pick up the boy child from school. So, my weekend will start a little earlier anyway.
I have chinese food for dinner EVERY night, ogdammit! But I don’t get fortune cookies. Just withering looks from Ma.
Maybe that’s my fortune… to be withered.
um, Kythereia, if Sean and I are taking the goat roles in the MMP school play[sup]tm[/sup], and you’ve granted Tuppy the boon of ‘undying and fiery passion’ for said goat, well… shouldn’t we get some say in all this?
Not that I’m denying Tuppy’s ‘undying and fiery passion’ or nuttin’. I’m just saying is all.
Bein’ all for this fightin’ ignernce thing and all, I present for your education and enlightenment The LOOM!
Taters I have not yet made travel plans. Perhaps tomorrow I shall get around to doin’ it. Or maybe next week. One or the other. I know I said last week I was doin’ it this week but this week has been real mean at work, meaning I’ve actually like had to do stuff everyday! Mean ol’ work.
Saving the pseudoMMP from the second page. VunderKind was safely delivered to the airport this morning, and as I type this, should be on final to Motown to change planes.
Awwwww. So did y’all have a good time?
Hell yea, but he’s still a teenager, so we couldn’t wear silly hats and get snockered on beer.
In principle, I agree with Gene. But how did I get to be a goat? I was addressing security issues (maybe hiring some guy named Sidney to stand at the gate), and suddenly I’m being felched?
I guess Lucy Van Pelt was right. It is either Sidney or the goat.
Doo Tee Doo Tee Doooooo! Still here. No illogical urges. Same ol-same ol. (YAWN) 
Bah! So I come in to work an hour early today to move to my new “office”. My space still isn’t set up. I can’t even go in there and clean because one of the people moving out of that room has allergies and the cleaner I bought will make her ill. I can’t really pack up any more on my end or do anything either.
I told the folks here I am out of here at 11:30. I’ve already given them a “free” hour. I have stuff to do too. They all knew I was leaving today and yet somehow things are not progressing. Grrrrrr.
I can’t start any projects because I have to disconnect my computer pretty soon and sit around and twiddle my thumbs.
I just want to DO something. I can’t stand doing nothing while I’m at work. I always feel vaguely guilty, even though I have nothing to feel guilty about. Guess I want to feel like I’m earning my money.
[QUOTE]
Hell yea, but he’s still a teenager, so we couldn’t wear silly hats and get snockered on beer.[/QUOTE
See, one of the great things about living in Canada is that drinking age is nineteen. So you can drink when you’re a teenager! Or eighteen in Quebec. Lots of eighteen-years olds go to Quebec for ‘cultural experiences’. Silly hats extra.
My parents’ dog is very sick. He’s can’t eat and drink, and he’s very badly congested. Please think good thoughts or pray for him. He’s only five, and my parents love him very much, possibly more than they love me. At least, I don’t get taken out for hamburger picnics. 
Bad news people.
This morning? I went out to get the paper? And the paper delivery person? They didn’t throw it all the way up to my driveway? So. I had to go all the way out into the street? To get the newspaper? Which I really don’t read all that thouroughly? But I usually read the funnies? Which generally aren’t all that funny? Anyway. I went into the street to get my paper? And I didn’t look both ways? And this truck came down the street? And it ran me over.
I’m dead now.
April Fools!
It wasn’t the newspaper. I got run over by a truck getting my mail out of the mailbox.
Hahahahahaha! Got you again! (You’re so easy!) It’s a double April Fools, I’m not really dead at all.
Probably.