Wednesday, February 22, 2006

Fruit Peeves

So there's lots and lots and lots of kinds of
fruits and vegetables in the stores these days.
Who can keep them all straight? Even the world's
greatest checker can't identify them all.

However, I would ask you all to get off your
sticky buns and invent something better
than those horrid stickers that are now on
every fruit and vegetable.

Here is the lovely tomato.
There is the lovely sticker.
It even has a little edge sticking out
to fool you into thinking that's the
part that isn't superglued to the tomato
and will let you peel it off easily.

One of two things will happen:
it will rip off much of the tomato skin with
it destroying the possibility of artsy fartsy
cutting to make a beautiful tomato arrangement,
it won't come off at all, forcing you
to cut it off, with the same dismal results
as above.

Oddly enough, the roma tomatoes
which are tough enough to not have
such peeling problems,

What is up with that?
Is it because romas are easily identifiable?
I think not.
Star fruit is easily identifiable but it has a sticker.

So now I've gotten the nasty habit of removing
all the stickers from the produce I buy.
If it doesn't remove, I don't buy it.

Of course, I'll be carted off to jail one of these
days for disfiguring fruit, disrobing tomatoes,
and releasing kumquats from their chains.

I shall shout:
"We're apples, not numbers!"
"Free the Physalis ixocarpa Five!"

Olympiczzzzzzzzz. huh?

So us geezers take turns dozing off then hoping the other one
has watched whatever was on the Olympics, then we
switch off.

It's not that the Olympics are boring, we're just unable to
recline without snoring. But at least I woke up in time
to see Sasha Cohen's short program, excellent.

Some friends were discussing whether ice dancing was
a sport, and after much discussion, they came up with:

If you can break a bone doing it, it's a sport.

I think that's overly broad, myself.
I know people who have broken bones having sex,
kicking chairs (at the office out of frustration),
falling in the shower, etc. These cannot be
considered sports.

I continue my attempt to get back in running shape,
however, a friend at McGill working on her philosophy
PhD was describing her six year old daughter's reaction
to her first Poutine complete with a side of hot dog
with cabbage on it.
She didn't like the cabbage.

Why has poutine not infiltrated the US?
Finding fresh cheese curd may be part
of the problem. There may be some
available at the Seattle Pike Place Market.
This could really slow down my running.

Poutine: french fries covered with dark chicken gravy and cheese curds

Wednesday, February 15, 2006

Beyond Magic BBs

I'm sure many blogs have posted about the magic bb theory.
A fine theory but wrong.

Cheney finally gave an interview to some cable channel,
I just saw parts of it on CNN, but he says he takes full
responsibility and that Whittington was not at fault.

But even if Whittington had moved position and Cheney didn'tknow it,
one of the basics of that kind of bird hunting is
you don't shoot until the bird is above the horizon.

This leads to other theories other than the magic BB.

1) Whittington was hovering above the ground and Cheney shot him
a) because he hates aliens, or
b) he was jealous of Whittington's super powers

2) these quail were not wild birds, they are grown on the farm,
they are not spooked as easily nor fly excitedly like wild birds.
I figure Cheney had Whittington running around the fields
trying to scare the birds up, and voila, he's in the line of fire.


Profile of Whittington By Simon Romero, NY Times

"... he has [passions]that do not fit so squarely with his image as a Republican elder.
One is prison reform. While serving on the board of the Texas Department of Corrections
in the 1980's and after observing the conditions in many stateprisons,
he once claimed, "Prisons are to crime what greenhouses are to plants."

He also led an effort to move mentally retarded inmates out of the general prison population
and followed this with outspoken support ofa bill to ban execution of retarded prisoners."

What kind of Republican, particularlyTexas Republican, can be anti-death penalty?

Cheney saw through this faux Republican shell and saw the liberal within! BANG!

Tuesday, February 14, 2006

OK here's the truth

Seems somehow the rational members of our family
have somehow stumbled upon our blogs.
There is nothing identifiable here.
Dwelf, nobody knows Dwelf.
And I only babble about irrelevant stuff.
Nobody even reads this blog.
Therefore it must be the little sister's famous blog.

So I have to either, go underground, or
spew my internal grist for all the world to see.

Oh, I can't. It's too much.
If I'm lucky, Dick Cheney will shoot
me and put me out of my mystery.

Wait, just a minute.
Gruff Ducks is very much out of date.
Let me fix that up, then pepper me with buckshot.

Sunday, February 12, 2006


There's a funny word.
And I thought only guys got pulled groin muscles.

Well, poor old Kwan, class act but eventually
age catches up, you don't recover as quickly.

I have a recipe for organic stewed chicken
that makes one invincible, but it's too
late for Michele.

I mean, I offered it to a number of athletes,
guaranteed to make you super competitors,
and all of them turned me down.

Ok, ok, they didn't respond. Their loss.
Stay tuned. I'm making it right now.

I shall return shortly and write the
super blog. Because this recipe also
improves your mental strength.

After all, there's nothing worse
than a mental groin pull!

Saturday, February 11, 2006

LA LA LA LA i'm not listening

Planted two new apple trees today.
Lost 30 buckers on online poker.
Wait, some sucker just bet against my 2 kings!
anyway, plastic bags for the apples will
take care of the MAGGOTS! MAGGOTS! MAGGOTS!

They don't make movies about apple maggots but they should.

Tomorrow we shall bathe the cat.

It's been nice knowing you.

Friday, February 10, 2006

Fluster Buster

Sometimes I (we) make up word combinations and Google them.
Do they already exist? Are we (I) not so creative as (I)we thought?

OR WORSE! Nobody has thought of them. Should we register
domain names? How much money is in my bank account?
Some of these ideas are priceless! Oh my god, we must
run with the idea now before some other slobbering
maroon accidentally thinks of it too.

Last night, I spent an unpleasant night wheezing.
My suspicion is an asian green bean salad i've never eaten before
or possibly something in the other ingredients. I'm not known
for my food allergies. But if it was just an air allergy
the wheeze spray would have taken care of it, so I suspect
food assasination.
Anyway, left my very tired for today. Not a bad day at work,
but too tired to work out, which makes me CRANKY!

Then I rented Wallace and Grommet: wererabbit and the wife
already tried to watch on the plane to Africa, but she's
nearly threw up (small screen, blurpy image) so she's
willing to try it again.

So I went online lost, $30 at poker, and googled "FLUSTER BUSTER"

Parrots. that's all i'm gonna say, parrots.
they're taking over the world.

Thursday, February 09, 2006

War is not the answer

So the wife has this sticker on her car,
"War is not the answer".
A knock at the door on a dark night.
A young man, probably 17-19 y/o, asks:
"What is the answer? Isn't war necessary?"
He was polite. We talked a bit.
He said sometimes there's no alternative.

It's an imperfect world, I agreed, and
indeed, there are occasions where unfortunately
violence is necessary to protect oneself, but
it should not be the default way of dealing
with difficult people and situations.

He said he had just moved here (Seattle) from
the south and they very much supported
the military, and was curious about
finding out what people in Seattle thought.

I told him I had been in the Navy,
I have no problem with the military,
but I do have a problem with the
way it is being used.
He seemed to think that was ok, and
he went back out into the street
to smoke his cigarettes with his friends.

Mrs. wife said I should have invited him
and his friends in for dinner and we
could convert them to being
Quackers, the religious society of Fiends.

But I was concerned. He was not a big
guy, not small, just kinda skinny, and
I'm afraid the cat might just
gobble him up on the spot.
The cat gets very hungry in the spring.

Spring? We have not had a hard freeze
this winter yet. It's February and
tomorrow it may hit 60 degrees.
The plants are very confused.

Monday, February 06, 2006

How To Survive Impossible Horror

First of all, Seattle is in the state of Washington,
not Oregon, and from north to south this is how it is:

Washington, Oregon, California

We have hot and cold running water, flush toilets,
and superb summers which we spend naked.
We are a real place, maybe not as sophisticated as you,
but likely more liberal.

So how do the liberals take the horrendous outcome of
the Supper Bowl? Well, they aren't called the
Pittsburgh Stealers for nothing.

Let's just say, the refs weren't a conspiracy, but they
sure better not show their faces around here,
because we'd really do a liberal number on them, like:

"Oh, you poor guys, what stress you must have been under?
How horrible for you. Have a latte. We know you feel as
bad about causing our loss as we do."

Yes, we know that these officials were brought up in
a school system where everyone got an A so no one
felt bad, everyone was a winner, and so when they
get into difficult situations, they cave in to
the bullies.

But we understand their anguish, and forgive them
for ruining our lives.

Yes, if the Seahawks had won, they'd return with lots
of money, endorsements, and raise the profile of our
lovely area attracting lots of out of state visitors
and money.

But instead, we'll remain in our swampy dank little
backwater state, wet liberals to the west,
dry conservatives to the east, and all STARVING!

For shame.

If only Bill Gates had played football in high school,
then we might have had a chance.

Friday, February 03, 2006

Getting Chomped

This got booted by Blogger, so it's out of date.
But here it is anyway, because time is relative.

I've read so many strange things in the newspaper
recently, I'm pretty sure I'm not living in reality.

Well, not the reality that would be real if I did
live in reality.

Or the media is not reporting reality. That seems
more logical, but when I asked my soon-to-be famous
philosophy major taking courses at McGill in
frenchy Canada, she tells me logic has nothing to do with it.

Her suggestion is to move to Alaska. That's where
she's from. I asked about gignormous mosquitoes,
moose tramplings, bear bites, frozen drunks, etc.
and she said, less than in Seattle except maybe
for bear bites.

But people moving to Alaska are locked in their houses!
until they receive bearbiting training.

I just don't know.
There's going to be a BIG wind here this weekend.
Mayhaps it will blow my brain clean.
And then I will be able to sleep like the cat,
drooling, twitching, warm and fuzzy,
and eternally waiting for someone to feed me.

Wednesday, February 01, 2006