THE WEIRD I DON'T KNOW WHY I STARTED THIS THREAD THREAD
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if ben affleck is batman does that mean matt damon is robin?
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Since the Browns started losing.... football is like a box of chocolates....
sugar-free on a hot day.
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My doorbell rang and I was hesitant to answer because I was watching San Diego comeback. It was my neighbor with a huge plate of homemade cookies! Nine different kinds. Some were gluten free for the dizzy guy she works with. But the best were the oatmeal, chocolate chip, chocolate mint chips, peanut butter, and snicker doodles.
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where are the flying cars?
someone promised us all flying cars by the year 2k.
waiting...........
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Am I the only one who likes smoked oysters? Everybody says they're gross for some reason but I love em as a basic horderve.
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You know, that reminds me of a story.... back in my Biloxi Air Force days, a gal friend of mine, Judy,
and I used to drive up along the coast (Keesler AFB was only two blocks away from shore), and we'd order
oyster sandwiches. For 65 cents.
But they weren't smoked, they were fried. On a poor boy bun. And lettuce, cheese and tartar sauce.
65 cents, but the rootbeer was a buck. We did this often. She had a Convertible Bonneville. I ended up
dating her best friend down there. She'd lend us her car when we went to Biloxi for a movie. The three of us
went out to that place and got those oyster sandwiches a lot, never got tired of em.
They don't have those in Ohio. But this summer, we went on a road trip to Texas to visit the father-in-law,
and stopped over in West Munroe, LA, to see the Duck Dynasty store. And went to a local restaurant,
and I ordered oysters, and alligator.
The really nice waitress told me they didn't have alligator.
I gave her my meanest, Clint Eastwood disgusted glare, and I did my best Eastwood voice.. "but this is Louisiana, you have alligators in Lousiana...", and she laughed and said "but they are out of season. We have great steaks, though. You'd love our oyster and fish plate."
So, I ordered a fried oyster and fish plate, and started to follow up with Clint Eastwood again, but my Wife
went to pinch my earlobe, I hate that, and made me quit picking on the poor waitress.
She came back with our order, and told me "I expect a really huge tip, Mr. Eastwood."
I don't know why my Wife thought that was so funny.
dammit.
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And I still remember the traumatic event one Sunday afternoon when Judy and I were out.
She had a salad. With blue cheese dressing. I never heard of blue cheese dressing.
We finished our oyster sandwiches, and she started on her salad. She coaxed me into
trying a big bite of blue cheese dressing salad.
She ended up laughing til she had to go to the bathroom at the face I made. And it
wasn't a Clint Eastwood face. More like Don Rickles eating a cold, fried pickle.
I've have a phobia about blue cheese dressing ever since. That's a long time, but I've hated
the puking pittspuke squealers a lot longer.
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So did you tear that shit up or not?
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stare into the tv a foot away from it when bill o'reilly is on a rant. then close your eyes.
you can still see that neon fucker.
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stare into the tv a foot away from it when bill o'reilly is on a rant. then close your eyes.
you can still see that neon fucker.
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