So, tonight’s meal will be a homage to my Favourite Sicillian Fruit, with a blood orange marinaded goats leg roast, with a watercress, spinach and roast potato salad (blood orange and sour cream dressing) and finished off with a dessert of a poppy seed, almond meal and semolina cake with a blood orange frosting.
I made the comment that when I used to go clubbing with my gay friends, I really liked the Blue Jeans Glamour Lesbian look… I was asked what that looks like, so having complete faith in the all knowing Google, I typed in “Blue Jeans Glamour Lesbian” into the image search box.
Now, Google, I have no issues with you throwing up an infinite number of pages of porn images for my bemusement - however, I do take offence that there were no pairs of jeans for at least four pages and there were far too many penises for “lesbian sex”.
So, there’s this documentary on the Miss Nude competition.
They are trying to present a serious view, with serious interviews, intelligent conversations and heart wrenching stories … all of which is a great, enlightened, humanesque view of the girls rather than the as the horrendous social outcast view of sex-hungry, drugged-out, abused, exploited, desolated remnants of society.
All of which is completely undermined by the fact that they interview them in the nude.
Taiss, every time I see your avatar, it cracks me up. There's got to be a story behind it. Willing to share?
A long, long time ago I was constantly concerned with the way people saw me. I was always overtly aware of being out of place or being “seen” in a certain way. So, one day, I decided I needed to challenge myself and allow myself to just be a fool. So, I took a number of photobooth shots being as absolutely stupid as possible and animated it to become my avatar.
Unfortunately, tumblr does not support gif89a formats for avatars. So, I had to choose just one image. The current avatar seemed to embody the combined tomfuckery and frustration I felt at the time. Now, it serves as a reminder that I have allowed myself to come out of my shell, clown face and all :)
2. I do have this one pipe that needs unclogging …
3. I think you’ll find that it doesn’t. Indeed, unless, of course, that is that you ingested the shit of a small cilantro munching marsupial, at which point you may well find that the shit tastes like cilantro and thus your confusion. However, I will state that if overworked it does taste like soap.
What do you mean by "playing coins"? We were pooling our shrapnel to pay for another round (without breaking out the plastic).
There’s two ways to play it, one is for the sculling of the yardglass, the other is for the paying of the round.
Basically, all of the players gather around and hold three coins each in their hands. All players then put their hands behind their back and bring out none, one, two or all three coins in their closed left fist which they present in the center of the circle. Each player then goes around the circle and guesses the total amount of coins in the circle.
So, for example, if you have 5 players, there can only be a maximum of amount of 15 coins and a minimum of 0.
Each guess must be unique. At the end of the round, everyone opens their fist showing the amount and the person that answered correctly at the end of the round is out of the game.
This carries on until one player is left.
This player is the final loser and must thus drown yard glass or pay for the round of drinks.
that when a male thinks of a threesome and imagines two girls with them being “interested” in each other as well, then that is “normal” but if a woman thinks of a threesome and imagines two guys who are “interested” in each other as well then “that’s sick”?
Hello Xntrek -- I'm having fun at camp -- cooking my brains out!! I made 25 dozen chocolate chip cookies today --- No wait -- it was more like 12 x 2.5 = ??? and then multiple that x 12 and that is how many cookies I made. Lots. And they were AWESOME!!
12 * 2.5 = 30.0 * 12 = 360.0
That’s a lot of awesome chocolate chip camp cookies which were awesomely awesome.
Did you remember to write a letter back home? If not, Let me start you off:
Hello muddah, hello faddah, Here I am at Camp Granada …
During the week, there is Work: There are approximately 6000 man hours of backlogged job requests our team is trying to power through. For me this means I am working on 7 simultaneous projects and have very little time to even think about scratching my ass. This does not look like it will slow down anytime soon. I get home at an average time of 7 to 8pm and by the time you get your usual tasks of cooking, cleaning, etc done … it’s time for bed :(
Come the weekend: I have a task list of jobs to be done around the current home — including finishing about 60 feet of retaining wall, finalise laying of skirting boards, repair the dishwasher, replace the kitchen window mouldings and lay a road crush mix near the car port.
I also have to finish the homework assigned as part of the Ag Science courses I have taken on and I am still working on my whole farm plan and the 26 page (and growing) consultancy report supporting it with data, analysis and project plans so as to present it to the Shire Council and be given the green light to start working the land I purchased into the vision I have for it.
The only reason I want to win lotto now, is that it would give me more time!
Him: Did you hear about this 36 year old woman who was stalking 16 year old men on facebook to sleep with them?
Him: Yeah, she was arrested last week.
Me: That’s just … weird … and wrong.
Him: I couldn’t do it.
Me: err, if you did, that would make you a paedophile dude.
Him: No! Don’t be like that! I meant be with a younger woman anymore.
Me: Define “younger” ‘cos otherwise I choose to uphold my previous statement.
Him: C’mon! I meant like in their twenties!
Me: Oh, OK … strange segway, but ok.
Him: I don’t know, maybe I’m just getting old, but I find myself struggling … even with a 25 year old.
Me: Yeah, I know what you mean, I find the same thing … I think it’s because they never expect me to leap out and catch them from behind like that …
Him: Why do I bother with you?
Me: Sadomasochistic tendencies?