573
12 September 2012
R. Linda:
Crazy event:
So I had sushi at a friends last night. He made it himself he did. I understand it takes near centuries (okay years) to perfect the art of sushi. My friend . . . let's see . . . two hours. Okay, so there I was sitting at his breakfast nook. He brought over two plates of what looked like . . . uh roughly something that resembled sushi, but you couldn't be 100% sure. Anyway, in the middle of these sushi-like things was a grouping of greens that looked like green pasta or worse, what floats at the bottom of O'Hare's aquarium. Now if that wasn't enough to make you ill at the sight of it . . . but I digress.
Chopsticks were handed over. I looked down at me plate and said as I pointed to the black wrapped rice things with raw fish in the middle, "What is this?"
"Tuna."
"And what is this?" I pointed to another wrapped with rice but a different coloured meat in the middle.
"Uh . . . that is . . . that is . . . I don't remember, but it's some kind of raw fish."
OK, leaving that side of the plate I recognised the salmon draped limply over more rice on the other side and then there was this smallish looking orange object with a tail that was also hanging over the rounded mini rice cake that looked like a filleted scorpion.
"And this?" I pointed at it.
"Uh . . . oh that's a halfed shrimp. But it's cooked."
Well okay then. I took a bite of the salmon which I was told to take a bit of the green paste and dump it into the soy sauce. Yes, I know what you are thinking, WHY was there NOT any GINGER soy sauce? I dunno, because maybe we are talking amateur? Whatever. I had never seen Wasabi sauce in a paste form from what looked like a toothpaste tube, so I had no clue what the green stuff was, but I took a healthy dose of that and splashed the salmon in the soy sauce and me reward was not the salty taste as expected, but the fact I burnt out me sinuses forever. Yup, I actually got up and danced around and the only thing to down this concoction with was a fruity white wine which didn't do it, it didn't put the fire out, it only gave me an excruciating buzz!
OK! I wasn't about to make that mistake again, and of course, me host was being sympathetic but he was also trying to keep from laughing. Maybe he too suffers from Schadenfreude. So I took one of the wrapped tuna things and only dipped it in the salty soy sauce and it tasted very fishy. Extremely fishy. I took one of the wrapped things of mystery fish and oh my God, the fish tasted like I had downed one of O'Hare's goldfish. I had all I could do to swallow it, but I managed.
Sad to say, I couldn't finish it all. He had made us a dozen each of his sushi masterpiece and all the way home I was hitting me chest with me fist trying to keep the fish from swimming up river. I have to tell ya I feel like I swallowed an aquarium. Decidedly not feeling well.
Crazy Idea:
Homeland Security be thinking of using remote control roaches (yes those big bad buggies) to go into small areas for search and rescue missions. Can you imagine being in some small confined space like a parking garage that caves in, and YOU can't get out UNTIL you hear this electronic noise that sort of gets your attention and you look up to see a ROACH meandering its way towards your face! You can betcha if that was me wife in there, she'd FIND superhuman strength to dig her way out FAST! That is, once she stopped screaming.
Crazy Memory:
I was sitting at a table in a lobster shack in Maine, the Dragon was sitting across from me, Tonya was looking at the menu and Big Tony was in the men's room (probably admiring himself in the mirror). Waitress came over and Dragon looks up and says to her this:
"Do you have lobster?"
Crazy Revelation:
Golfer Rory McIIroy the Irish golfing sensation from Northern Ireland upset those who consider themselves Irish by saying this: "The fact is, I've always felt more British than Irish. I have always felt more of a connection with the U.K. than with Ireland."
Who'd a thunk it? I had to laugh, being a Catholic who lived in Northern Ireland, I can quite well understand Rory's saying what he did, and if I was from Holywood, where all the rich people live, well . . . so while Rory there expects lots of criticism about possibly representing Great Britain in the Rio Olympics, he knows and states, "my decision is going to upset some people but I just hope the vast majority will understand." Uh Rory? THEY DON'T.
Crazy Situation:
After I found I could not sleep because the sushi experience played over and over in me head, I put meself asleep with a combination of NyQuil and Ambien, and I dreamt you were suffering with some crazy old persons disease that turned into a form of really bad old persons disease and you were in bed for the rest of the year, leaving me . . . MUSE-LESS!
I later dreamt you were shaking me from sleep telling me to look at you and you were pointing to your pink eyes and blaming them on the daddy man. I jumped up and shoved you into a glass enclosed isolation chamber and told you the only way to get rid of that eye thing was to eat fudge and have no contact with any persons sick or dead but through the glass.
I opened the little window and slid the fudge menu in. You couldn't read it because your eyes were pink and full of crud and anyway one eye was closed as if wielded shut by pinkeye crud. So you demanded I read it to you. I read it. I told you there was chocie almond fudge, chocie coconut fudge and chocie walnut fudge.
"You choose," you said as you took a large bottle of sterile water and started spritzing the crud off the old eyelids.
"Ewww." I commented. "Okay so listen up, here you go, it's chocie coconut fudge coming in and YOU better eat it, I made it meself and you deserve to be sporting a muffin top for the winter instead of me! Consider it revenge from a few years back when you had a concrete mixer full of fudge dump the stuff on me doorway and stupid me ate it resulting in not one but THREE muffin tops!" And I slid it through the opening. Like a blind person you were lurching around like where is it? But you knew where it was, your nose was not broken, you were just acting the maggot to irritate me good job of making a fudge that wasn't lumpy . . . like the kind you threaten to make me!
"YOU want me in this isolation thing with fudge? Oh hell no! I will wake up weighing 1500 pounds, I'll never walk again!" You shouted at me pushing the tray out.
"Nah, not this time, it's your turn," I said pushing the tray of treats back in towards you.
"YEAH but it should be YOU! No muffin top for me, I'm muffin already!" And you shoved them back out.
"Then let's turn you into a full-fledged cake! I like that idea." And I shoved in the other two flavours as well.
"Seriously, you want to go there?" You said squinting at the gigantic tray of fudge. "It's a good thing you crack me up, else I'd have to hurt you." You squinted with one pink eye at me as I flipped the tray window closed. Then you remembered something, something gross. "You remember when you were burping guppies after eating your friend's sushi? We call that shark bait Bozo"
"Bozo? Why . . . why you . . ." I watched you squirt more sterile liquid into your crusty eyes. "OMG! Gads you look like a pirate doing that. Can you stop?"
"Yar Captain I can but . . . I WON'T until you eat all that fudge!" You said aiming the squirt bottle at me. And you squirted it and stupid me ducked watching it go nowhere but drip down your side of the glass.
"Really?" I said straightening up, you standing with the bottle ready for another go nowhere squirt, a demonic smile on your smug fudge-less face.
"HAR!" You shouted squirting again, and I don't know what was the matter with me but I ducked again then realised you couldn't do a damn thing so I straightened back up.
"I'll make you a deal," I said. "I'll not put your name in for a candidate for Tom Cruise's next wife, IF you promise to eat just a teeny-weeny bit of that fudge."
"You think you're pretty clever don't ya bud?" You said one eye crud-less and looking pinkishly at me. "You forget I can make your life miserable." And you laughed.
"How? You are in there and I'm am out here." I reckoned.
"Well now," you held up the hand that wasn't holding the squirt bottle, and when I saw what you had I took an intake of breath trying to fill me empty lungs that you had emptied with the fear of being blog-less. Yes, there you were jingling the keys to the blog in your hand and laughing. "Look familiar GABE? Consider if you don't eat all that fudge, and let me out of here, I will eat your keys and you know what that means . . . no more blog. Mahhahaaaahaaa!"
"You wouldn't dare!"
"Try me." You said opening your mouth and dangling the keys inches from your teeth.
"Oh yes you would, OKAY, OKAY, OKAY!" But it was too late you had let them drop and I watched as your throat muscles worked them down.
"Ummm tastes like fish." You said.
Then suddenly I woke up to find I had somehow made me way down me stairs and found I was standing in front of O'Hare's aquarium. I looked in and there were no fish, no notta one! I had in an Ambien sleep enhanced state eaten every single goldfish and there had to be like 30! I awoke to choking on the last one. I tell ya I be green to the gills at the thought and worse, I be repeating fish BIG TIME!
Gabe
Copyright © 2012 All rights reserved
12 September 2012
R. Linda:
Crazy event:
So I had sushi at a friends last night. He made it himself he did. I understand it takes near centuries (okay years) to perfect the art of sushi. My friend . . . let's see . . . two hours. Okay, so there I was sitting at his breakfast nook. He brought over two plates of what looked like . . . uh roughly something that resembled sushi, but you couldn't be 100% sure. Anyway, in the middle of these sushi-like things was a grouping of greens that looked like green pasta or worse, what floats at the bottom of O'Hare's aquarium. Now if that wasn't enough to make you ill at the sight of it . . . but I digress.
Chopsticks were handed over. I looked down at me plate and said as I pointed to the black wrapped rice things with raw fish in the middle, "What is this?"
"Tuna."
"And what is this?" I pointed to another wrapped with rice but a different coloured meat in the middle.
"Uh . . . that is . . . that is . . . I don't remember, but it's some kind of raw fish."
OK, leaving that side of the plate I recognised the salmon draped limply over more rice on the other side and then there was this smallish looking orange object with a tail that was also hanging over the rounded mini rice cake that looked like a filleted scorpion.
"And this?" I pointed at it.
"Uh . . . oh that's a halfed shrimp. But it's cooked."
Well okay then. I took a bite of the salmon which I was told to take a bit of the green paste and dump it into the soy sauce. Yes, I know what you are thinking, WHY was there NOT any GINGER soy sauce? I dunno, because maybe we are talking amateur? Whatever. I had never seen Wasabi sauce in a paste form from what looked like a toothpaste tube, so I had no clue what the green stuff was, but I took a healthy dose of that and splashed the salmon in the soy sauce and me reward was not the salty taste as expected, but the fact I burnt out me sinuses forever. Yup, I actually got up and danced around and the only thing to down this concoction with was a fruity white wine which didn't do it, it didn't put the fire out, it only gave me an excruciating buzz!
OK! I wasn't about to make that mistake again, and of course, me host was being sympathetic but he was also trying to keep from laughing. Maybe he too suffers from Schadenfreude. So I took one of the wrapped tuna things and only dipped it in the salty soy sauce and it tasted very fishy. Extremely fishy. I took one of the wrapped things of mystery fish and oh my God, the fish tasted like I had downed one of O'Hare's goldfish. I had all I could do to swallow it, but I managed.
Sad to say, I couldn't finish it all. He had made us a dozen each of his sushi masterpiece and all the way home I was hitting me chest with me fist trying to keep the fish from swimming up river. I have to tell ya I feel like I swallowed an aquarium. Decidedly not feeling well.
Crazy Idea:
Homeland Security be thinking of using remote control roaches (yes those big bad buggies) to go into small areas for search and rescue missions. Can you imagine being in some small confined space like a parking garage that caves in, and YOU can't get out UNTIL you hear this electronic noise that sort of gets your attention and you look up to see a ROACH meandering its way towards your face! You can betcha if that was me wife in there, she'd FIND superhuman strength to dig her way out FAST! That is, once she stopped screaming.
Crazy Memory:
I was sitting at a table in a lobster shack in Maine, the Dragon was sitting across from me, Tonya was looking at the menu and Big Tony was in the men's room (probably admiring himself in the mirror). Waitress came over and Dragon looks up and says to her this:
"Do you have lobster?"
Crazy Revelation:
Golfer Rory McIIroy the Irish golfing sensation from Northern Ireland upset those who consider themselves Irish by saying this: "The fact is, I've always felt more British than Irish. I have always felt more of a connection with the U.K. than with Ireland."
Who'd a thunk it? I had to laugh, being a Catholic who lived in Northern Ireland, I can quite well understand Rory's saying what he did, and if I was from Holywood, where all the rich people live, well . . . so while Rory there expects lots of criticism about possibly representing Great Britain in the Rio Olympics, he knows and states, "my decision is going to upset some people but I just hope the vast majority will understand." Uh Rory? THEY DON'T.
Crazy Situation:
After I found I could not sleep because the sushi experience played over and over in me head, I put meself asleep with a combination of NyQuil and Ambien, and I dreamt you were suffering with some crazy old persons disease that turned into a form of really bad old persons disease and you were in bed for the rest of the year, leaving me . . . MUSE-LESS!
I later dreamt you were shaking me from sleep telling me to look at you and you were pointing to your pink eyes and blaming them on the daddy man. I jumped up and shoved you into a glass enclosed isolation chamber and told you the only way to get rid of that eye thing was to eat fudge and have no contact with any persons sick or dead but through the glass.
I opened the little window and slid the fudge menu in. You couldn't read it because your eyes were pink and full of crud and anyway one eye was closed as if wielded shut by pinkeye crud. So you demanded I read it to you. I read it. I told you there was chocie almond fudge, chocie coconut fudge and chocie walnut fudge.
"You choose," you said as you took a large bottle of sterile water and started spritzing the crud off the old eyelids.
"Ewww." I commented. "Okay so listen up, here you go, it's chocie coconut fudge coming in and YOU better eat it, I made it meself and you deserve to be sporting a muffin top for the winter instead of me! Consider it revenge from a few years back when you had a concrete mixer full of fudge dump the stuff on me doorway and stupid me ate it resulting in not one but THREE muffin tops!" And I slid it through the opening. Like a blind person you were lurching around like where is it? But you knew where it was, your nose was not broken, you were just acting the maggot to irritate me good job of making a fudge that wasn't lumpy . . . like the kind you threaten to make me!
"YOU want me in this isolation thing with fudge? Oh hell no! I will wake up weighing 1500 pounds, I'll never walk again!" You shouted at me pushing the tray out.
"Nah, not this time, it's your turn," I said pushing the tray of treats back in towards you.
"YEAH but it should be YOU! No muffin top for me, I'm muffin already!" And you shoved them back out.
"Then let's turn you into a full-fledged cake! I like that idea." And I shoved in the other two flavours as well.
"Seriously, you want to go there?" You said squinting at the gigantic tray of fudge. "It's a good thing you crack me up, else I'd have to hurt you." You squinted with one pink eye at me as I flipped the tray window closed. Then you remembered something, something gross. "You remember when you were burping guppies after eating your friend's sushi? We call that shark bait Bozo"
"Bozo? Why . . . why you . . ." I watched you squirt more sterile liquid into your crusty eyes. "OMG! Gads you look like a pirate doing that. Can you stop?"
"Yar Captain I can but . . . I WON'T until you eat all that fudge!" You said aiming the squirt bottle at me. And you squirted it and stupid me ducked watching it go nowhere but drip down your side of the glass.
"Really?" I said straightening up, you standing with the bottle ready for another go nowhere squirt, a demonic smile on your smug fudge-less face.
"HAR!" You shouted squirting again, and I don't know what was the matter with me but I ducked again then realised you couldn't do a damn thing so I straightened back up.
"I'll make you a deal," I said. "I'll not put your name in for a candidate for Tom Cruise's next wife, IF you promise to eat just a teeny-weeny bit of that fudge."
"You think you're pretty clever don't ya bud?" You said one eye crud-less and looking pinkishly at me. "You forget I can make your life miserable." And you laughed.
"How? You are in there and I'm am out here." I reckoned.
"Well now," you held up the hand that wasn't holding the squirt bottle, and when I saw what you had I took an intake of breath trying to fill me empty lungs that you had emptied with the fear of being blog-less. Yes, there you were jingling the keys to the blog in your hand and laughing. "Look familiar GABE? Consider if you don't eat all that fudge, and let me out of here, I will eat your keys and you know what that means . . . no more blog. Mahhahaaaahaaa!"
"You wouldn't dare!"
"Try me." You said opening your mouth and dangling the keys inches from your teeth.
"Oh yes you would, OKAY, OKAY, OKAY!" But it was too late you had let them drop and I watched as your throat muscles worked them down.
"Ummm tastes like fish." You said.
Then suddenly I woke up to find I had somehow made me way down me stairs and found I was standing in front of O'Hare's aquarium. I looked in and there were no fish, no notta one! I had in an Ambien sleep enhanced state eaten every single goldfish and there had to be like 30! I awoke to choking on the last one. I tell ya I be green to the gills at the thought and worse, I be repeating fish BIG TIME!
Gabe
Copyright © 2012 All rights reserved
