Friday Pot Luck

Okay, time to knock out some quick-hitters that have been sitting around on my desk too long….

Recently I went to a restaurant and ordered the ostrich dog. I offered a bite to the Mrs. but she declined because she didn’t know how to classify it. She’s not a strict vegetarian since I’ve talked her into eating fish and poultry (as long as it’s boneless), but still avoids beef and pork. And apparently ostrich. So picky.

One of my favorite actresses recently decided she was a singer – Zooey Deschanel. Unlike Juliette, I’d prefer Zooey stick to acting. Unless she plans to serenade me to sleep in person every night with her songs, it’s just not working for me. Sorry, babe.

Although Juliette pissed me off – some dates with The Donnas and the Licks were recently announced and I could hardly sleep for a week. And then they quickly and mysteriously canceled. I was so depressed I didn’t get out of bed for a week. In fact, they were supposed to be in Chicago tonight. In protest, I’m not wearing my spandex pants, legwarmers, and Indian headdress today. Just jeans and a t-shirt. Well, okay, and the legwarmers. I had an aerobics class at lunch. Let’s get physical, babe, physical.

I don’t know how long this has been around and maybe I’m the last to see it (no, I’m not talking about the Tommy Lee and Pam Anderson sex tape), but I was flipping around the television and found a concert called something like The Rolling Stones at the Circus. It was the craziest shit I’ve ever seen (except for that polar bear skipping rope at Arby’s). Keith’s pants and the crowd, including John Lennon, all stoned out of their minds and dancing around in yellow and red cloaks. It also made me sad knowing that something like this could never bust out today. Try to picture the same scene in the day of corporate sponsorships and digital cameras.



I was recently stuck in a small airport waiting for a flight. As if I’d be sitting there waiting for a stagecoach. I ended up at the bar at Friday’s with an angry twenty-something bartender who seemed to get pissed off whenever a server would bring him a drink order for anything other than beer.

Bartender: A whiskey sour??!!
Server: Yes.
Bartender: How old is this person?
Server: I don’t know, maybe late twenties…
Bartender: Hrmph. Nobody drinks that shit anymore.

Misheard Phrases: I’ve been familiar with the phrase “for all intents and purposes” but for a long time I had thought people were saying “for all intensive purposes”. I don’t know if my hearing sucks or people's diction sucks or if I’m just a moron, but thankfully I don’t use words and phrase like that when I write so I never embarrassed myself. Until now. Oh, and don't worry, I know I'm a moron.

Finally, shortly after we moved into our new place a friend of the Mrs. came over to hang out and was righteous enough to bring us flowers and her own beer. But even better was the story of how she came to acquire those items. She had stopped at a small food store and was in line behind a guy who she described as follows: Slighty gruff, wearing moccasins, and the type that does his shopping only by buying what he can carry in his arms – that particular night featuring a large bottle of gin and some Gatorade. He seemed somewhat lubed already and decided to start up a conversation with her, including a discussion of her freshly painted blue toenails. This all led up to his parting comment, “And if tonight goes as planned, I’ll be sucking on those toes later.” I thought I had mastered the obnoxious or horrifying pick up line at my prime, but I must pass on the title to the new king.

Misheard Lyrics: My most embarrassing entry –
I want to rock and roll all night…
And probably every day.

Have a swell weekend. I’ll probably rock and roll and suggest you consider doing the same.