Last night I cooked up a batch of banana cinnamon pancakes, big ol' stack, no short stack here, poured some nice local honey over the heap, then, for a bit of far-up-north Y*nkee flavor, poured some maple syrup on top.
As I was putting the syrup away I noticed some white schmutz floating on top - I hadn't noticed prior to pouring as the syrup level was low and the paper label obscured the syrup.
Yep, mold. So into the garbage went the whole shebang. She bang, she bang, and I am still without my pancakes.
Need some Tupelo honey, none of that Y*nkee tree sap.
Went drinking yesterday afternoon at the "tasting room" of a brewery not too far from here. About a fifty-fifty mix of men to women in their twenties and thirties. Crowd packed shoulder to shoulder. Little chubbier than necessary. Well-mannered.
So a lesbian couple comes in, on the wrong side of fifty. Natty dykes. Unfriendly.
And I thought to myself, if I were to go into a dyke bar, would they look at me and think: "Oh, get a load of Mister Straight Guy. It's so important that we all know that Mr. Straight Guy is straight."
Probably not. They'd probably just wish I would leave.
And that's the difference. Because I thought it was kind of neat having them around.
8 comments:
Going to the Packer game w/ my son and 2 Jet fans from NJ. Great day for a game.
This great song was on the soundtrack for a very good flick, Ulee's Gold starring Peter Fonda.
Nice way to start a Sunday morning. Sweet, even.
Last night I cooked up a batch of banana cinnamon pancakes, big ol' stack, no short stack here, poured some nice local honey over the heap, then, for a bit of far-up-north Y*nkee flavor, poured some maple syrup on top.
As I was putting the syrup away I noticed some white schmutz floating on top - I hadn't noticed prior to pouring as the syrup level was low and the paper label obscured the syrup.
Yep, mold. So into the garbage went the whole shebang. She bang, she bang, and I am still without my pancakes.
Need some Tupelo honey, none of that Y*nkee tree sap.
Great song. Liked the sax solo.
Went drinking yesterday afternoon at the "tasting room" of a brewery not too far from here. About a fifty-fifty mix of men to women in their twenties and thirties. Crowd packed shoulder to shoulder. Little chubbier than necessary. Well-mannered.
So a lesbian couple comes in, on the wrong side of fifty. Natty dykes. Unfriendly.
And I thought to myself, if I were to go into a dyke bar, would they look at me and think: "Oh, get a load of Mister Straight Guy. It's so important that we all know that Mr. Straight Guy is straight."
Probably not. They'd probably just wish I would leave.
And that's the difference. Because I thought it was kind of neat having them around.
Sixty. What no one told you was that the maple syrup makers put a layer of magic dust on top of the syrup in every 100,000th bottle.
The person with that bottle can redeem it for the $1 million prize.
Into the garbage, eh?
Tough break.
A great tune.
I played organ and led the congregation in singing for Mass this morning and I feel fine.
The hymns:
Shall We Gather at the River?
How Can I Keep from Singing?
I Want to Walk With Jesus
Faith of Our Fathers
Let There Be Peace on Earth
Great tune, I just can't sometimes understand a fucking word he says.
Yeah, me neither, but he is able to understand himself well enough to do a one man call and response.
*mumble mumble*
Singing *MUMBLE MUMBLE!*
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