Playing with my food, and other things...
Quarry not prey
Last updated:
2/4/2007; 5:22:02 AM


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Paul/Male/56-60. Lives in United States/North Carolina/Carrboro, speaks English. Eye color is brown. I am skinny. I am also cynical. My interests are All Music/All Food.
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United States, North Carolina, Carrboro, English, Paul, Male, 56-60, All Music, All Food.

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Sunday, June 06, 2004

A picture named 57chevy.jpg 

57 – Strength In Numbers

 

Tailfin of the ’57 Chevy, elegance without excess - kinda like Heinz 57 and now, Virtual Occoquan #57. The truth is out there. Go read it (while you still can)

 

 


10:23:30 PM    comment []

A picture named lamb and potatoes.jpg

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A boneless lamb roast is like a second date without a goodnight kiss. This poor lamb to slaughter sacrificed not only life and bone, but also the indignity of losing his lanolin-rich fat on the road from butcher to supermarket commodity. Liz would mostly disapprove of loss of bone and that can’t be helped, especially when the roast is marked down, but the loss of fat can be overcome with a few strips of bacon overlaid atop what should have been the fatty side. The redskin potatoes below can’t see what’s above them and probably can’t tell the difference between lamb and bacon drippings anyway, and they were reasonably happy in the company of peeled garlic cloves and some freshly ground pepper. Potatoes can always be appeased.

 

While it was roasting, we watched Calendar Girls, a beauty of a true story about the Yorkshire women who bared nearly all for the sake of a modest sofa in a local hospital, but found unanticipated international success (and notoriety) for the good of all humanity. If The Matrix effectology confuses you, but you like low-budget, well-developed Brit plots along the line of Brassed Off, Waking Ned Devine, or Billy Elliot, this flick just might be your cup of Yorkshire Gold.

 


5:44:24 PM    comment []

A picture named oldfred.jpg

“I was an only child…”

I was an only child, and I often think about what my dear old mother used to say when there was news on the radio about how many German planes had been shot down.

My dad would say: "Oh, great!" But my mother would say: "Well they all belong to somebody. It could have been my lad."

 

 

 

 


6:25:14 AM    comment []



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