I haven't checky checked my mailboxes yet, so I don't know if I have any funnies for you today, there might be one sneaking in towards the end of this.
Recently, I wrote up a 'pseudo' dating ad and actually put it on Plenty of Fish dot com. Here's the update: I have some peeps checking me out. Apparently they're not actually reading the 'ad' though. Here's a refresher:
BBW seeking YHM (Young Hot Male) for naughty tryst in late afternoon sun-shaded glade. Must be tall dark and handsome. I am a sweet, blue-eyed, red-head that scares men into running like jack-rabbits. This is due to the fact that I am an independent, strong, funny, kind, supportive (as in I'll support you, since you don't feel like working) and caring woman. I also enjoy cooking, gardening, fetching beers, propping feet up on pillows, giving massages and doing all the household chores, including but not limited to taking out garbage and mowing the lawn. Don't get your hopes too high up, as eventually you will run screaming from those traits, even though they'll be an exact match to what you're 'searching' for in a woman. I do hope to meet you very soon and look forward to another notch on my lunacy belt!
Yeah ... so I got a response from a 65 year (young?) old guy; who is not tall, dark or handsome, stating: sweet pea what afternoon do you want to play?? You able to host??
And a second guy: you dont scare me!!!!!!
Apparently the only part the first one read was: "naughty tryst in late afternoon sun-shaded glade". *sighs* Typical!
And the second guy? WTF?
And ONE last thing: I stated on my profile that I didn't want kids. No offense to you single and loving dads out there (I know you're terrific!), but that means I don't want your kids either. Hit me up when they're in college! Thanks! (Again ... no offense intended towards blended families either.)
Okay ... now I'm going to delve into my past and tell ya'll a little story. This will explain my deep seeded hatred towards most mainstream sports.
When I was about 11, I'd had it up to HERE (all nearly five feet of me basically) with sports being an all consuming pastime in my daily life. Constantly being dragged to my brother's football games and baseball games. (Keep in mind they only had to go to ONE of my functions a year.) Constantly hearing about it over dinner, and breakfast, and during lunch and on the way to school, and just before bedtime, and well ... frankly ... 24/7/365. So ... I thought ... hey ... maybe if I learned what football was all about ... I'd end up actually enjoying the game. SOOOO, I asked my older brother to teach me the game.
OB: sure ... I'll teach ya! (he promptly got the nerf football and we headed out to the front yard)
ME: Okay ... what do I do.
OB: I'm going to throw you the ball, and all you have to do is catch it, when I throw it it's called a pass, and when you catch it, it's called blah blah blah (some specific name I'm sure. Or some such bullshit)
ME: What do I do if I drop the ball?
OB: Jump on it.
ME: Okay, pass it to me.
OB proceeded to pass me the ball, which I immediately fumbled. (HAH ... I picked up some terminology somewhere along the way)
I then started jumping on the ball posthaste. Literally jumping up and down on it like I was on a trampoline. My OB starting laughing so hysterically he directly fell over and began rolling on the ground clutching his sides. I instantly developed an even stronger dislike for the game, if you can believe it. And of coursed I kicked him and stomped away.
I've always said, if I marry a sports fanatic, I'll have no problem with it. I plan on making the snacks (good ones too, I love to cook!) ... picking up the beer ... putting out the spread ... and then getting the hell out of dodge double-time! I'll take myself off to a nice quiet lounge, sip a couple of bottles of vino; read a good book and then hail a taxi for home. Pass out, and let the hubby clean up the mess. I think it's a fair trade. Don't you?
Okay ... well I said there wouldn't be a funny, but maybe that story will make you laugh. It seems to thorougly crack my brother up to this day.
That's all folks ... meep meep! (okay ... well except for the rest)
Academe, n.: An ancient school where morality and philosophy were taught. Academy, n.: A modern school where football is taught.
Days after his inauguration, President Barack Obama signed into effect plans to close the Guantanamo Bay detention facility within the next year. What do you think should be done with its remaining detainees?
I think they should hold them in the White House. Feed them, clothe them, entertain them in the White House bowling alley. Give them tea and cakes in the afternoon, and massages in the evening. God forbid they actually be treated like terrorists!
verb intr.: To work (such as study, write, discourse) laboriously or learnedly.
Here's a word that literally encapsulates the idiom "to burn the midnight oil". It's derived from Latin lucubrare (to work by lamplight), from lucere (to shine). Ultimately from the Indo-European root leuk- (light) that's resulted in other words such as lunar, lunatic, light, lightning, lucid, illuminate, illustrate, translucent, lux, and lynx.
"So MPs have voted to lucubrate less. To lucubrate fewer? To sit for fewer midnight hours. To work less antisocial hours. To have less/fewer late nights."
Still re-reading High Noon. I'm being so batty with my books lately. I need to formulate a game plan!
Tuesday night was: Reaper, NCIS, 90210 and Cupid. I haven't seen the new Cupid yet, it's DVR'd, I was sleeping ya know? Because I've been lucubrating alot lately! Tonight is: Lost, Better Off Ted (I saw the pilot, looks pretty good so far), Criminal Minds is a re-run, so none of that. Hmm ... yeah ... so that's it. Wow ... slow TV night. More sleep for me ... YAY!
Little Birds are dining
Warily and well,
Hid in mossy cell:
Hid, I say, by waiters
Gorgeous in their gaiters -
I've a Tale to tell.
Little Birds are feeding
Justices with jam,
Rich in frizzled ham:
Rich, I say, in oysters
Haunting shady cloisters -
That is what I am.
Little Birds are teaching
Tigresses to smile,
Innocent of guile:
Smile, I say, not smirkle -
Mouth a semicircle,
That's the proper style!
Little Birds are sleeping
All among the pins,
Where the loser wins:
Where, I say, he sneezes
When and how he pleases -
So the Tale begins.
Little Birds are writing
To be read by cooks:
Read, I say, not roasted -
Letterpress, when toasted,
Loses its good looks.
Little Birds are playing
Bagpipes on the shore,
Where the tourists snore:
"Thanks!" they cry. "'Tis thrilling!
Take, oh take this shilling!
Let us have no more!"
Little Birds are bathing
Crocodiles in cream,
Like a happy dream:
Like, but not so lasting -
Crocodiles, when fasting,
Are not all they seem!
Little Birds are choking
Baronets with bun,
Taught to fire a gun:
Taught, I say, to splinter
Salmon in the winter -
Merely for the fun.
Little Birds are hiding
Crimes in carpet-bags,
Blessed by happy stags:
Blessed, I say, though beaten -
Since our friends are eaten
When the memory flags.
Little Birds are tasting
Gratitude and gold,
Pale with sudden cold:
Pale, I say, and wrinkled -
When the bells have tinkled,
And the Tale is told.
Huevos Rancheros in Tortilla Cups
4 tablespoons olive oil, divided
6 6- to 61/2-inch-diameter corn tortillas
1 15-ounce can pinto beans or black beans, drained
2/3 cup chopped fresh cilantro, divided
1 teaspoon ground cumin
6 large eggs
3/4 cup grated Monterey Jack cheese
1 cup purchased pico de gallo
2 to 3 teaspoons bottled chipotle hot sauce
Preheat oven to 350°F. Brush six 10-ounce custard cups with 1 tablespoon oil. Stack tortillas; microwave uncovered until warm and flexible, about 25 seconds. Gently press 1 tortilla into each cup. Brush tortillas with 2 tablespoons oil.
Place pinto beans, remaining 1 tablespoon oil, 1/3 cup chopped cilantro, and cumin in small bowl; mash coarsely with fork. Spoon bean mixture into bottom of tortilla cups, spreading and dividing evenly. Crack 1 egg into each tortilla cup atop beans. Sprinkle each with grated Monterey Jack cheese, covering egg completely. Bake uncovered until egg yolks are firm to touch and whites are set, about 27 minutes (yolks will still be soft inside).
Meanwhile, mix pico de gallo, 1/3 cup cilantro, and hot sauce in small bowl. Using large spoon, lift tortilla cups from dishes; transfer to plates. Top eggs with pico de gallo and serve immediately.