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Podcast ... PLEASE!!!!!!! Please buy my book. You can skip the chapter about loving my job since they just laid me off. ![]() Cosmic's Book ![]() Bozoette's Book ![]() Bren's Book Wow, I feel so
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in space My blog is worth $30,485.16.
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![]() quibbles and bits 01/03/2009 = 04:18 PM You know I don't care to write about work, but because this is national news, I did kind of want to get on board with how it affects me. One of the drivers for a courier company with chocolate-colored trucks typed "terrorist" into the "Signed By" field for the package he had just delivered to a Sikh customer. I'm not ashamed to work for the same company as this driver, nearly as much as I am ashamed to be a member of the same species. We got a new, heavy-duty, killer accurate down to a tenth of a pound, bathroom scale the other day. The reason we got this was that That Man of Mine was told, when he was hired as a mall cop, that he was over the weight requirements to ride the Segway, so he'd have to walk whenever he wasn't driving the pickup, riding the bicycle, or driving the cart. So recently, I noticed that his new pants were hanging off of him like he was a teenaged boy, and I got this killer accurate scale (marked down from $79.99 to $19.99 because That Man of Mine, what with the walking, the bike riding, and the fresh produce tasting better to him than it did back east, has lost nearly sixty pounds. So now he can go ride the Segway through the mall, and I can go hide my fat arse under my quilt and whimper. (Yes, I weighed myself and yes, I weigh less than I did in Connecticut, but not enough less, and no amount of his saying, "It's not your fault you can't move around like you used to" is going to make me feel any better.) The other night, I got to meet tstough. I know his name is T. Stough, but I always referred to him as "T.S. Tough" anyway, because it's badass. As it turns out, his last name rhymes with "snow," so now I refer to him as "T.S. Toe," which is not so much badass as completely and totally unrelated to badassery in any manner. Anyway, he now has a signed copy of my book and I now have a signed copy of his CD, so I'm pretty happy. You, of course, will need to go forth and get your own, on both counts. Incidentally, I love T.S. Toe's wife. Love. Want to be friends with her, watch Lebowski with her, eat mashed potatoes with her kind of love. We ate at the buffet at the Luxor, which was where they were staying, and we had a wonderful time, but, honestly, I think we'd have had just as good of a time at the diner, plus we wouldn't have gotten thrown out at closing time because the diner doesn't close. I did love the hell out of the Luxor's decor, though. I felt like Amanda Peabody. Come back soon, Mr. and Mrs. Toe. That Father-In-Law of Mine sent us an Olive Garden gift card for the holidays. Since we had had two Bahama Breeze gift cards that were useless in Connecticut, and we spent them at Olive Garden and Red Lobster, respectively, we decided to take this card over to the Bahama Breeze, now that the opportunity was presenting itself. Olive Who? Which Lobster? I don't care how not-classy eating at chain restaurants is. Whoever said I had class anyway? I have eaten at some pretty swanky, expensive places in my time, and I defy any of them to capture the flavors I got in my bowl of Bahamian Seafood Chowder. Aside from the seafood tasting fresher than some I've had at other, more smug eateries, it had a touch of jerk seasoning in it, fried shrimp garnish, and little bits of sweet potato. I had no room for my entrée (West Indies patties with apple-mango salsa, meant as an appetizer), so I had to have it wrapped. The server, who was one of the best I've had at any restaurant, class or smugness level notwithstanding, drew a happy-faced pineapple on the lid.
I also had a Red Stripe, because they didn't have any San Miguel Dark, and you know, hooray beer and all that. Incidentally, speaking of dining without class, I think the chicken at El Pollo Loco is better than any chicken I've had that wasn't cooked at home or by a colonel in a white jacket. If Tony Bourdain cares to mix it up with me over that fact, he's welcome to try. Judging from the reading on my new scale, if I throw my weight into it, I will have no problem breaking him in half. drinking: ice water with key lime squeezed in looking back - December 28, 2008 5:43 AM pride goeth before a fall - December 20, 2008 5:17 PM bitter is the new bitter - December 14, 2008 2:02 AM thanksmeme-ing - November 29, 2008 9:19 AM
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