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Pastimes : Don't Ask Rambi -- Ignore unavailable to you. Want to Upgrade?

To: melinda abplanalp who wrote (42718)	11/24/1999 3:30:00 PM
From: Rambi	Read Replies (3) \| Respond to of 71178

Mel, Not yet!!! I thought I should wait for my mother-in-law before I opened the bottles- Hey! REAL bottles? I hope you caught that! We are a class act this week. I am making Bete Noir at the moment. As an alternative to apple, pumpkin, and lemon meringue pie. Here are the ingredients: sugar, chocolate chips, 2 sticks butter, 5 eggs and whipped cream. It is to die for... Wishing you a very, very wonderful day, my wine-guzzling friend!

To: melinda abplanalp who wrote (42718)	11/24/1999 4:11:00 PM
From: Gauguin	Read Replies (4) \| Respond to of 71178

Speaking of chard, my cousin and spouse and I were drinking and watching some "sports event," they adore, on the tube. It would have to be football or basketball, as it is that "season." My cousin tried to say that one half of my brain ~ even though he admits the other half may be active ~ he tried to say one half of my brain doesn't work. While, both halves of his work on a gin and tonic. Three or four. I can count. Sports "people," do that, a lot. Insult. What, exactly, is it about calling Detlef Shremprftfh, Detlef Skemp, that gets them so riled up? Is that reasonable? I don't think so. But it's like a Holy Chorus from them. And they pack readily. I don't mean weapons, I don't think; I mean like fawn- or bunny-tearing Alaska grey wolves. They divide, very quickly, and multiply. Into them and Me. You've seen a cell mitosis? Where all the stuff pulls to one side and the other, everything just migrates over there, pushing hard against the walls with their backs to each other, because they can't get along and hate each other so bad, and then bwooop! Two cells! Well! That settles that! Everybody's happy. But they, are still in the same cell, with me, and they're facing this-a-way. Their cell wall is the couch. And I get some other space, where I "won't interfere with tv reception." Hopefully out of earshot, too, as far as they're concerned. They might let me use a chalkboard, and scratch little messages during commercials. "Get me some chips." Needless to say, heedless to say, as my cousin likes to say, it gets annoying. So ~ so I can't tell who the teams are by their uniforms, and might ask, "Who's playing?" That seems pretty innocent. I can get the Seahawks and the Rams and most of the obvious ones, from their helmets, but what are you supposed to make of a fleur de lis? "This one looks like a cowering squirrel. Squished salamander." Tag art. What are the Packers sposed to put on theirs? A string of gut sausage? Pig ears? OH! And those OILERS! What a hoot! "It's a derrick." "I'm not going out there with a derrick on my head. Not for eight million dollars." The Dolphins. I can get the Dolphins. Bless them, they have what appears to be a Dolphin on the sides of their helmets. And I can always tell professional from college, because they don't make them tuck their shirts in. "Tuck your shirt in." (Remember when we used to hear that?) (Usually followed by, "Mister.") Wearing your shirt "out" could get you in big trouble. Not any more. You can get on tv. Looking like a slob. Hard to believe Mr Wears His Pajamas To Safeway can get away with calling them a slob, but..... They're dirty, too. So he, my cousin, tries to tell me I'm a Moron. Nothing wrong with this, in and of itself, as long as you can do it. He says, "You are port moron!" "Hmm?" "Part moron. Part moron. Part moron." "Port Moron? Castillia?" "Part! Part!" "Port moron ~ is that......like, a mascot? Court jester? Port moron?" "I said port moron. Part moron." "I'm Port Starboard." "Pp...." "Port. Have some more port, moron." Oh dear. It appears I've disrupted their Sporting Event. For shame. Oh well. Nothing quite like having a guy trying to size you down call you port moron. I like it. It's divine justice, it is.